Chapters The constant snapping of a camera's lens was one of several sounds adrift in the cramped studio that Featherweight was in that afternoon. It was a prevalent sound, weaving its way through the audible heavy duty fans placed around the set. Chatter between the other staff members was minimal, to minimize the amount of distractions for the photographer hard at work, his face buried inside his camera. Featherweight was fine to keep quiet, just trying to take in all of the scene in front of him. His new internship at Graceful Magicks had started only a couple weeks ago, and so far, it was going well; as well as being the errand pony for the models and photographers can go, at least.
“Good, now give me a turn, would you Fleur?” The photographer instructed the model before him. Flare Shot, Featherweight recalled. The tall stallion was very keen on instructing his models every few seconds. Featherweight knew this was necessary, to better capture the model at work. There was no better model though than the one that Flare had his camera lens on.
Doing as she was told, the mare onstage turned at the hip at the photographer's direction. She gave a small lean forward, and her luscious mane of magenta spilled about her elegant neck and shoulders. The small gusts of wind from the fans made her hair billow out behind her, giving the illusion of a graceful breeze coursing through her beautiful locks. Fleur de Lis was the model's model. Featherweight felt his heart thump in his chest as she smiled towards the camera, envisioning for just a moment what it'd be like if she directed that smile to him…
The harsh ring of a bell above his head snapped him from the daydream and back to reality, several other ponies giving a small and similar jump like he had as the bell continued until it stopped. The harsh interruption had shattered the aura of calm cast by Fleur's presence on set, something that did little to deter the mare it seemed. “Alright, everypony, take ten! Standard breaks. We'll be back here to finish up after.” The studio assistant, Brisk Order, tapped her clipboard with a pen. “Where's some water when you need it? Fleur, water?”
“Oui, yes please.” The model replied as she walked over to her chair.
Featherweight snapped to attention and grabbed the light cooler containing the iced water that the studio had requested for today. He walked forward, approaching Brisk and holding the open cooler out for her. “Thank you!” She chimed, passing it on to Fleur as others clamored around to get their own portion. The pegasus kept still, waiting until everypony had gotten their share before the crowd departed to their own odds and ends. Some went to the windows to look out at the bright Canterlot afternoon outside, skies clear and sun shining upon the picturesque buildings that dotted every square inch of the city. Others went out into the adjoining hallway, seeking a smoke break out and away from anypony who detested the smell or act.
There was but one bottle left in the cooler, one that Feather had counted as being the sole one he'd get for that rather warm afternoon. Looking around, it seemed everypony was satisfied with their drink, and Fleur had downed most of hers already. Steeling himself, the pegasus approached the lounging model seated in her own personal chair, a fan waving cool air for her as her magic held it in place. When he approached, she took her eyes away from the magazine she had been picking through and smiled. “Yes?” Her bright violet and grey eyes peered at him. Her gaze was soft, more relaxed and welcoming compared to the usual harder, more fixed stares of Canterlot society.
Featherweight found his voice and spoke, not wanting to occupy her too long. “I-I have a water left, miss Fleur, if you’d like some more.” He said, holding up the cooler where the singular bottle in question jutted out from the icy contents in offering. “Being in the spotlight so long probably isn't exactly low temperature right?”
Fleur giggled and nodded. “You would be quite right. Merci.” She thanked him in that curious, but alluring overseas language he knew she spoke. Taking the bottle from the cooler, she popped the top off and took a sip from it, swallowing it before sighing in satisfaction. “This is the mineral water from Copperknuckle street, is it not?” she asked.
“Y-yes, ma'am. I remembered that it was better to get our water from there than the other typical stores, since Copperknuckle works to make sure the water is fresh instead of processed. I think I remember you saying you preferred it that way?” He answered, polite while he stood there in her presence.
“You are quite right. Thank you...hmm?” She paused as she looked at his face, leaning forward a little as she took him in. “You are...Featherweight, no?”
Surprise captured Featherweight's mind as she identified him. “That's right, miss.”
“I thought I recognized your face. I have seen you in this studio before. It is good to have friendly ponies here aware of others and not just themselves.” She remarked before going back to her magazine. Smiling to himself, Featherweight nodded and stepped back and away, giving the model her space. Inside, he was still comprehending the fact that one of the most known celebrities of Canterlot and Equestria knew his name already. It was a star-struck feeling.
Setting the cooler down, Featherweight sighed and looked about the room. Everypony was still occupied with their own odds and ends, talking amongst their co-workers or fiddling with equipment for when the break was over. To his left, he spotted the camera that Flare Shot had been using for the shoot, placed atop its tripod and still on. He gave another look about the room before approaching the camera, careful as he picked it up and looked through the viewer to see what the technology saw. However, it was not marvel that came to his mind as he peered through the expensive equipment, but confusion.
“That's...weird.” He muttered to himself as he looked over the camera to the set it was directed at before looking at the viewer again. Featherweight knew his way around a camera, he reasoned, enough to recognize the basic settings and styles a photograph would be captured in. It was his passion for photography that had brought him here to Canterlot in the first place, to seek out a job in the field of art and fashion that photography could blend itself into. His experience had earned him plenty of a good reputation with cameras back home in Ponyville, and it was that same experience that was giving him caution flags while checking the setup for the camera.
“These filters are weird...what if we tried this?” he murmured as he thumbed through the settings, adjusting things until it seemed to suit what he felt was better for it. The viewer now gave a much sharper, cleaner image without the filters that had been in place, on top of improving the lighting that the spotlight's shine wouldn't make Fleur or her outfit too bright to be seen. He sat the camera back on the tripod, but froze as a voice spoke behind him.
“Just what do you think you're doing, kid?” Flare Shot's voice questioned as Featherweight turned and saw the stallion looking at him with a scowl. “That's my equipment you're playing with.”
“I-I'm sorry, sir. I was just looking through the viewer, to see what you see, sort of thing.” The pegasus explained. “I-I didn't break anything. I was just checking the filters on the settings and thought things might look a little out of place is all.”
“Oh? And you've got experience working with this camera, do you?” Flare sneered, leaning forward as he took advantage of his taller height over the smaller pony. “You'd better hope you didn't damage anything, or it's coming out of your pocket.”
The rest of the room was quiet, nopony else getting involved between the two. Some were just getting back from their smoke break, and were staring at the taller stallion being so aggressive.“I didn't damage anything! Promise!” Featherweight insisted, holding his hands up in a submissive gesture. “I'll just, go now. I'm sorry.” He apologized before removing himself from the scene, going back to his spot at the sidelines. Chastising himself, he remained to the side for the rest of the shoot, taking care to not cross paths with Flare Shot when he exited, nor to bother anypony else. With the photo shoot done, he had little else to see to other than cleanup and going about his own business. He took it as a blessing that nopony else had seen him touch the equipment, lest he get a call from his boss about fiddling with the studio's tools. At least he had gotten to speak to Fleur...and she'd even known his name!
Oh Sisters, why did she have to know his name?
Featherweight's quiet afternoon had been disrupted when out of nowhere, Photo Finish herself had contacted him and insisted on him coming to her office as soon as possible. Taking the call in his apartment, he had at first thought he had dreamt the call. Five minutes later, however, the concrete fact was evident by his caller I.D still flashing on his phone, another call from the very same mare asking him to bring his sample folder with him of photographs he'd submitted for his application to her studio.
Now, he was in her private office, across from the very mare responsible for signing his meager paycheck while aside her stood Fleur de Lis herself, the model having changed out of her fashion shoot outfit for a casual blue dress and sunhat that was currently in a chair next to her purse. The model was behind the desk with Photo Finish, looking over the selection of photos that Featherweight had brought at her request. This left the stallion in very uncertain waters as he waited in silence, unsure of his fate that laid in their hands.
'Is this from me touching the camera? Did Flare Shot report me? Did I mess something up from the shoot?' He racked his mind for any answers to the panicked questions, but none came to surface. Instinct while handling the camera had been assuring of nothing being damaged, since surely Flare knew how to handle his own equipment as well. But if that was the case, was this a reprimand for stepping out of line? And why was Fleur even here?
“I haf seen enough.” Photo's declaration drew him out of his thoughts as she closed the binder shut, setting it aside as she steepled her hands while peering at him. Her eyes betrayed nothing, hidden behind the stylish sunglasses the fashion mare was rarely seen without. “Featherweight. Answer me in truth; did you fiddle with zhe camera when you were at zhe shoot today?”
Featherweight's stomach recoiled from the question, but he swallowed and nodded. “Y-yes ma'am. I-I wanted to just see what a...professional's camera was like compared to mine. I-I noticed that certain options were enacted that...changed the quality of the picture. At least, to me.” He answered. “Please, I didn't mean to cause a problem, I just-”
“Ap-bup.” Photo Finish interrupted, holding up a hand and cutting him off. He closed his mouth as she spoke again. “Was zhe instinct that guided zhat decision zhe same that led you to make zhese photos?” She gestured at his green binder, where his pictures rested.
“I-I would say yes, ma'am.” He answered, glancing to Fleur who only smiled at him with his answer. Her smile did only a little to help him keep calm, but it wasn't a glare or an unhappy expression coming from her. He took that as a blessing that at least one mare appeared to be alright with him.
“Zhen I have my answer.” Photo said, laying back in her seat. She looked to Fleur, who nodded as well. “Featherweight; I am seeking new talent to blossom within my studio.”
“Ma'am?”
Photo Finish waved a hand at him. “Relax. Breathe. Compose yourself. You will not be fired zhis day, not for demonstrating a perception for art so few can grasp.” Her words confused the stallion, but he nodded and straightened in his seat as she continued. “Rather, I would fire you only if you showed zero potential in my studio. I knew when I found you, zhere was something...hidden. Waiting. Und now, I see zhat has surfaced.”
Featherweight looked between Photo Finish and Fleur, calm settling into curiosity as the nervousness from before ebbed away. “So I'm...not in trouble?”
“Certainly not.” Fleur insisted, nodding at the stallion. Her affirmation brought relief to the stallion, who let out a breath of relief before Photo Finish continued.
“When you work in zhe industry we do, Feather, one must reel in new talent and bring it to life as soon as you can. Zhe older professionals, like myself, we are established. We are zhe foothold, zhe basis, from which new artists, new models, can come to be. I compared zhe shots from before and after you changed zhe camera before Flare Shot tried to delete zhem. Your attention to detail is something few can say zhey had so early in life. And in zhat, I see an opportunity to bring you and your talents to the forefront.” She explained.
“What I wish to do, Feather, is to assign you with zhe task of creating your own photo series for my review in a month's time. I want to see how you can work, how you function and would be if you were in zhe big leagues, so to speak. Zhis is zhe only time I will offer it, zhe one chance. I have spoken to Fleur, and she has agreed to work with you to help you bring your talent to fruition.”
Featherweight gawked at Photo Finish before looking to Fleur beside her, his surprise keeping him quiet before speaking. “Y-you and me? Working together?”
“Oui, Feather. It would be a breath of fresh air to me, and a fun challenge for myself as well.” Fleur answered. “I have been working with Flare Shot for some time now, and I fear that remaining with him will make things go stale. I am curious to see what you can do, if working with moi is not a problem?”
“O-of course not! It's no problem! Not at all!” He assured, standing up in his excitement at the prospect being handed to him. “I'd be honored to work with you. You're Fleur de Lis, for Celestia's sake!”
Fleur smiled at his enthusiasm and nodded. “Then I see no reason for us to not do our best.” She said, turning to Photo Finish who was watching. “If Madame has no objections?”
“Nein. I expect great things from zhe two of you.” Photo Finish said before standing up. “Of course, I cannot expect zhat you will accomplish much on zhe salary of an intern, Featherweight. So the studio's resources will be available to your will. You or Fleur need only call, and I will aid you.” She held out her hand to Feather, who looked at it before grasping her hand with his own in a firm handshake.
“Thank you. Both of you. I promise, I'll do the best I can for you both.” He swore, hope swelling within him at the doorway that he'd entered from. A look to Fleur's smiling expression kindled those hopes with the fervor of desire to do right by her. “I won't let you down.”
“Zhen get to work, you two! Go on, chop chop!” Photo Finish urged them both, waving her hands at them as Fleur donned her sunhat once more while Feather collected his things. The stallion nodded at her before exiting, waiting for Fleur to follow before looking up at the taller beauty in front of him.
“So. Where should we start?”
Friday
“That's good Fleur.” Feather said as he held his camera horizontally. “Just hold that spot, and...good.”
Friday arrived, and with it, their next photo shoot. The week had seemed to drag on to reach the weekend, and with it, Feather had tried and tried to plan out more of his and Fleur's shoots. The first shoot had been great as a starter, keeping things basic for her and to show off her product. But he couldn't just keep using a white backdrop and little bits of furniture. That was repetitive, and boring. The consumer world was fickle in its tastes, never satisfied with just one format, one way. He would need to variate things some. But the question was how?
It had led him to changing the scenery from the studio to another locale, this one using the landscape of Canterlot for the background. He’d surprised himself in his decision to go with a rooftop setting for this one, making use of the studio's wide roof for this session. They'd also been blessed with good weather from the pegasus teams, with clear skies and a light wind that kept them cool under the bright sun shining on their heads. For this session, it was less materialistic and more of a focus on Fleur entirely. Since last time had been an effort to showcase Fleur's businesses, this time would serve to bring attention to Fleur herself.
Fleur relaxed from her pose, having been standing with her hand at the side of her head and her torso in profile to the side, facing away from Feather. His intention was to try and capture her when the wind would blow by. He had passed on using fans at the start, thinking they wouldn’t need them. However, the little bursts of wind that had come by so far did little to help them, leaving Feather feeling frustrated. He lowered his camera and ran a hand through his mane. “Let's take five, Fleur.” He called to her, getting a nod from the model as she stepped down from her small makeshift wooden stage and came to where he stood. He didn't look up from his camera, cycling through the pictures he'd taken so far.
“How are things looking?” She asked as she came up to his side, peeking at the viewer from over his shoulder.
Feather sighed and shook his head. “You look great, but I feel like it’s missing something. Maybe this idea wasn't a smart one.” He remarked. “It's like what I'm trying to reach for is there but I'm not seeing it.”
“Are you perhaps distracted?” Fleur questioned. “I have had days like that myself. Have you been sleeping well?”
“Well enough.” He wasn't going to tell her that he'd tossed and turned for two nights on deliberating on the shoot. He had to keep a solid face up in front of her. Flare's words echoed in the back of his mind.
‘Rookies don’t see their mistakes at first. That’s why they’re rookies. It takes some time to learn how this business works, what the public wants.’
He stopped scrolling through the pictures, turning the camera off to look at her. She looked wondrous in the midday light, even in light casual clothes consisting of a pair of black pants and a white sleeveless top. Her mane was down and free, hanging past her shoulders and adding a bit of color to her apparel. She looked all the part of the model she wanted to be.
“You don't sound very convinced, Feather. Come, sit.” She invited him to follow her to a pair of chairs they'd brought up with them from the studio. He followed after her, settling into a chair in the same fashion as the mare next to him. The view out beyond the rooftop was one to see, ; much of Canterlot lay sprawled out before him, pegasi flying here and there up above and ponies walking down below, their bodies small from his vantage. “You seem troubled. You have barely made eye contact with moi today, in fact. Am I bothering you, Feather?”
The pegasus shook his head and looked up at her, giving her his full attention. “No, Fleur, not at all. It's not you, it's me that I'm bothered by.”
“What could be causing that?”
“I...” Did it even matter? Would she even care if he told her? He was just a photographer, a rookie at that. He was only here on the whim of their boss, a chance and a gamble being taken that could just as well spell trouble for them all as much as it might succeed.
“I'm not very experienced, Fleur. I'm making my first steps into this profession here. I've done plenty on my own free time, but I'm not exactly premiering in my own little art studio for ponies to see and pay for my pictures. I'm still figuring things out.”
Fleur nodded, waiting until he was finished speaking before she responded. “And this inexperience; it is making you nervous? Unsettled, perhaps?”
“...yeah. If I'm gonna put all the cards out there, I'm nervous about screwing up. .” He answered her, turning his gaze back out to the city beyond them. “A lot's riding on this project, for me. It's a lot to take on for my first time, and I didn't really start feeling it until a couple days ago.” He hadn't told her about running into Flare Shot after their first session; it didn't seem necessary or helpful to make her think he might quit.
“Cannot anypony say they are nervous like that when they are taking their first steps?” Fleur asked, making him look back to her. Seeing she had his attention, the mare smiled and continued. “Does a master craftsman expect perfection on his first chisel on marble? Or a painter on his first stroke?”
Featherweight listened and shook his head no, watching as the model stood up and walked back to her wooden stage he'd had her stand on before. It wasn't really a stage, even; it was a few spare wooden boxes that came up to his middle, put together to give her a little more height and to keep perspective of the city beyond her. He had asked one of the stage teams to help set it up this morning. She continued, looking over at him as she spoke.
“I was by no means perfect on my first try either. When I first learned the ropes of the catwalk, I was very much intimidated. I was putting myself out for the world to see, to let myself be judged entirely by peers and viewers of all kinds.” As she spoke, Fleur walked, her steps light on the wood, slow and methodical. “I was afraid: what if I made a mistake? What if I fell? So many what if's, Feather, can leave a pony to keep a pony petrified with worry, because we are made to think we must be perfect all the time.” She came to a stop at the edge of the stage and turned about, putting one foot forward while posing before him.
“That is not a style of life I subscribe to.” She assured before coming down to stand in front of him. He was enraptured by her words and her voice. It was the balm to the burning irritation he'd been struggling with since the beginning of the week. “I believe in experiencing life outside of perfection. Though some might argue that I myself am perfect in some ways, I know in many ways I am not.” She reached out to him, and he tensed before watching as she held up his camera. “Take your camera, for instance; for all the knowledge and experience I have as a model, I know nothing of how to take such photos myself. I could not begin to tell you what equipment to use, what settings to select, filters to apply. But does that make me lesser?”
“No.” He answered immediately. “Not in the slightest.”
“Precisely. I am moi, and I love moi. I love what I do. And that is good enough for me.” Fleur let his camera return to its resting spot and smiled up at him. Her eyes captivated him in their warmth as she stared into his own. “Don't let fear stall you or trip you on your path to success. Do what you do best. Be you. If you can be yourself, then nopony can argue that you're not doing your best or being the best, because only you can be the best at that. Do you understand?”
Feather nodded. He was distracted by the pounding of his heart in his chest, echoing in his ears. She was so close to him, he could count the eyelashes on her eyes as he continued to stare into her bright pools of violet.
“Yeah. I think I do.” He murmured back to her before a thought struck him. He mentally compared his shots of her on the stage versus where she sat now, the backdrop of the wide sky above her while arching skyscrapers rose on either side of them. In the far distance, the royal castle itself sat in its gleaming glory, distant but recognizable nonetheless. “Fleur. Don't move from there.” He said, making her pause but adhere to his wish as he took three steps back, enough to keep the city around Fleur visible but herself as the centerpiece. He snapped the photo, then a second one, before lowering the camera. “Thank you. I think that was part of the problem. I was...aiming too big.”
Fleur beamed at him, making his own smile grow in response. His heart was still pounding in his chest, albeit more controlled now. It was inspired by a new feeling of Fleur's assurances, and the knowledge that she was backing him despite the risks involved. “Let's keep it up from there; I want to keep you in the center. You always do look better in the spotlight.” Fleur giggled but nodded, staying put on spot as Featherweight moved to catch other perspectives of her with his camera, carrying on for some time until the sun had shifted position in the sky.
Same Day, Canterlot Square
“I’ve been walking for ten minutes now, Powder Touch. I’m still not seeing it. You sure you’re not just waiting to pop out and surprise me?” Flare said into his phone as he ambled down the sidewalk. At just half past noon, the foot traffic in Canterlot’s main street was excessive as always. Flare was grateful for his height, as it let him carry on with little hassle. His insider to Graceful Magicks, Powder Touch, had called him a half hour ago about seeing something on display in the main square.
“Come on, it’s like, so big you can’t miss it!” Powder’s nasal voice answered back. “I only just saw it a little while ago on the way here.”
“Alright, alright. Let’s hope this isn’t another waste of time like that ‘magic dragon’ you claimed you saw last week, you screwball.” Flare remarked, shouldering past a lost-looking couple and giving a hand wave when they asked for help. “I’m on Unicorn Boulevard now. You said above the opera house, right?”
“Yeah, that’s the one!” she exclaimed. “Just stay there, look up! There should be that alternating billboard up!”
Flare shook his head but indulged the mare as he stood in place and watched the advertisements flash upon the billboard. A clever piece of magic at work, the billboard was designed to display a new image or ad every few minutes. The red-maned stallion kept his eyes trained on the billboard, waiting for Graceful Magicks to have its turn. Photo Finish always had a reserved spot on the billboard, a constant source of advertisement for her studio to promote herself and her models.
He didn’t need to wait long, as the magical transition effect washed out the image of the Wonderbolts’ next air show and shifted to its next advertisement. An image of Fleur de Lis stared back out at Flare from her higher vantage, frozen in time as the picture displayed her lying on her side in a delightful black dress, looking every part the beauty she was reputed to be. A small black bottle of “Magnifique Mare” was placed beside her, giving a nod to Fleur’s own fragrance line as well as showcasing the mare for Graceful Magicks.
Flare’s grip on his phone tightened as Powder squeaked in his ear. “So~? Isn’t it cool! You got on the billboard again!”
“That. Isn’t. Mine.” He growled out as his fist clenched at his side.
“Huh? Weren’t you just working with Fleur a few days ago? I thought you did that one?” Powder asked.
“No. I didn’t do this shoot.” Flare replied, mind racing as he recognized the pose and where he’d seen it before. He remembered seeing the picture in his very hand, in Photo Finish’s office. Flare’s pride dropped into his stomach as he remembered the scrawny novice who’d taken the photo. That damned brat had upstaged him, and now that rookie’s work was on display on Unicorn Boulevard! “I need to go. I’ll talk later.”
“But Flare-” Click! Flare Shot hung up his phone and pocketed the device, turning away from the billboard to make his way down the sidewalk. The kid was just a rookie compared to him, but Photo Finish was using Featherweight’s material over his own? What was she thinking?! He shoved his way past passerby ponies mulling on the street as he aimed for his apartment. That brat was going to be a thorn in his side if this was allowed to continue. There was room for just one pony on top, and he wasn’t going to let some newbie take that place over himself.
Monday
“Ok, Miss Finish. Thank you for the advice!” Feather called over his shoulder as the door to Photo Finish's office closed.
“You are welcome!” She called back before the door closed. Feather sighed to himself and adjusted his jacket before aiming for the elevator. He had presented Photo Finish with the latest batch of photos from the rooftop shoot three days later on Monday, thankful for no interruptions this time from Flare Shot. The mare had eyed each photo with a critical look before requesting he give her time to sort through them on her own. Her appraisal of his use of scenery gave him a boost to his self-esteem, making him walk with a bit of pep in his step as he reached the elevator.
When the machine dinged and the doors parted, however, that pep deflated as he took in who was standing in the elevator. “Feather!” Flare Shot exclaimed as he recognized the younger stallion. “Hey, kid! Just who I was hoping to bump into.”
“Hey, Flare.” Feather returned the greeting, albeit with much less enthusiasm. He hadn't forgotten the veteran photographer’s remarks on him, or Photo's own critique of the man. It put him in an awkward setting to be stuck with him on the elevator. “I was just heading out, but I...forgot something. I'll just take the stairs.”
“No, no! This is perfect; you're just who I was looking for.” Flare reached out and threw his broad arm around Feather's shoulders, tugging him into the elevator. Before he could protest, Flare had already hit the close door button and had Feather riding with him. The youth could feel the machine shifting as it rose. The moment Flare’s grip slackened, he stepped out of his grasp while the older pony spoke. “I was hoping to talk to you.” Flare said as he looked to Featherweight. “How's the project going?”
“It's...going well. We're doing fine.” He answered. He kept away from Flare's reach, a fact that the stallion seemed to recognize as he only smirked and shook his head. The elevator came to a stop as it reached its destination. “Just gave Photo Finish the latest batch of pictures.”
“Good to hear. Just come with me for a minute, I wanted to throw something by you.” Flare urged him as he exited the elevator. Featherweight recognized the floor as the same level where they kept a couple spare rooms for photo sessions when no other locale could be found. The red-maned pony looked behind him at the youth and waved a hand. “Come on!”
“Flare, I need to go home. I'm kinda beat from today. Can't this wait till tomorrow?” Feather asked.
“It'll take just a second! I promise!” Flare insisted. Feather's instincts tugged at the back of his mind, but he followed the stallion into an open room. There was no actual set inside this room, leaving much of it bare save for a few spare wooden chairs and a couple lightstands. It was more of a storage spare room than anything else. Feather had actually used this room to get seats for a session on his first day.
“Look, I gotta hand it to you, kid. You're pretty darn smart to take on this project. I mean, your first foray into professional photography, and you're getting to work with the Fleur de Lis?” Flare said, walking up to a window to look outside. “You couldn't ask for a better setup to break into the big time. Not to mention getting to work with such a beauty. She's a real looker, ain't she?”
Featherweight just nodded to his remarks. “Fleur's the model's model, I guess.” He replied. He wasn't sure what to make of Flare's presence here. The older stallion turned away from the window and saw that Featherweight was watching him, and raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Hey, nothing bad about appreciating the goods you get to see, right?” He remarked before facing Featherweight. “Just think how many stallions would be clamoring for your time with her.”
“Maybe. What is it you were wanting, Flare?”
The red-maned stallion sighed and rolled his shoulders before regarding Featherweight again. To the younger pony's eyes, it was almost like he was sizing him up. It made Feather uncomfortable, but he stayed put. Flare just snorted and shook his head.
“Look, kid. I wanted to...apologize. I know I probably came off as being rude before, and that's not right. I'm really just looking out for you, you know.” Flare said. “See, this business is a really demanding one. I had to work from the ground up to get where I'm at now, and to be frank, I'm happy you're getting such a big push to get your own ball rolling. But you gotta watch out for pitfalls and problems on the way. And I don't want you to take a hard hit.”
Feather tilted his head in confusion. “What are you talking about?” he questioned.
“Simple. Let me help you out some. The next shoot you do, call me up and let me tag along. I can help you make such better shots than what you're doing now. I've got a whole crew at my fingertipsI can just call on, and we'd have our own personal set ready to go. Fleur could be positioned for anything, whatever the theme is. All you'd have to do is keep taking photos and doing what you do, and I'll help guide you on how to make it better.” Flare held out a hand towards the younger stallion, as if to further invite him. “We can work together.”
Featherweight eyed his hand before looking up at the older stallion. “...aren't you busy with your own projects?” he questioned.
“That stuff? It's small time! Fleur is the best of the best, grade A stuff, kid! If you're gonna aim to be the best, you gotta get the best.” Flare took a step closer, and Feather's instincts tugged at his mind again. His wings at his back gave a flutter as he kept an eye on the taller stallion. “Look, let's face it; you're new to this. I've got years of experience under my belt. I've worked with a lot of models, and you've worked with, what, nature? A few happenstance neighbors who thought it'd be nice to let you indulge in your little hobby?”
“It's not a hobby. It's my profession.” Feather countered, but Flare talked over it as if he couldn't hear him.
“Let me help you, kid. Is it really so demanding that I'm just trying to help you out? Stop being so stubborn and just let the pros handle things.” Flare insisted. “I'll even cut you some credit on the final printing. Just work with me on this. Come on.”
Feather stood there, thoughts racing on Flare's words and his own beliefs. It was true that he was new to such alevel of work, and that Flare had tons more experience. The older stallion had undoubtedly worked with several other models and had a good understanding of what makes a good photo versus a bad one.
“He is arrogant in his ways. Too firm, too unyielding. I hired him with the hopes zhat he would be great, and he has become great. But it is tempered with his brash behavior, and ruins zhe hopes I had for him. I worry he has forgotten zhe true magicks of zhis industry .” Photo Finish's words came back to mind in that instant, the description ringing more true to Featherweight than this show of good will that Flare was clinging to.
Shaking his head, Feather took a step back from the stallion. “I appreciate the offer. It's nice of you. But I'm alright.”
Flare Shot stared in disbelief and tilted his head. “Come again?”
“I said...no. I'm fine to keep on doing what I'm doing.” Featherweight repeated. “I was told to do this my way, to do it the way I felt best. And if I give up on doing this, I'd be saying that my style isn't good enough. I don't know if it is or not for sure; that's not for me to decide in the end. That's up to Miss Finish. I'm not doing this to make myself look great or like you said, to be the best.” He took a breath and carried on, noting the look in Flare's eyes begin to change from disbelief to frustration.
“If anything, its Fleur and the other models who get to look great. I'm not expecting fame for doing this; I don't think I want it either. It's more important that I enjoy what I'm doing, and I am. Even if I might make a mistake, I’m happy with what I’m making here. So thanks, but no thanks.”
Flare exhaled through his flared nostrils, and balled a fist at his side. “Think about what you're doing, kid. You're throwing away a chance to be a real pro. A real photographer, not just some brat posting scribbles on the fridge door. I can help you, if you'd just let me come on and work with Fleur. And you.”
Featherweight shook his head. “The answer's no. I'll see you around, Flare.” Featherweight turned to leave, eager to get away from the older stallion and get home. Before he took two steps, however, he felt Flare's hand grab for his shoulder, and swing him around. Featherweight's smaller frame was easily moved by the taller stallion's actions, leaving him to grasp for the edge of a spare desk he fell against while Flare stood overtop him. Gone was the friendly face and charming smile; instead, he looked cold, distant as he stared down at the pegasus with grit teeth and his eyes brimming with anger.
“You don't dismiss me like that, brat. I'm your senior. I'm five times the pony you could be, and ten times the photographer. You think just because Photo Finish picked you that you're some kind of special pony? Sure, and I'm in line for the royal crown.” He mocked. “Now wisen up and start listening to me, or else you'll regret it.”
“Get your filthy hands off of him.”
The voice came from Feather's left, making Flare look up in the same direction he did. The older stallion paused his actions at the sight of the intruder. “F-Fleur!”
The look on the model's face was one he couldn't recall ever seeing before. The beauty's face was hardened, her jaw clenched as she marched toward them, heels clacking on the floor with each step she took. Flare's grip on Feather lessened, and moved out of his reach.
“When I came by to see if Feather had delivered the photos, I thought I might run into him here. Imagine my surprise when the secretary tells me she saw you taking him into the elevator.” She spoke in a controlled, calm fashion while her eyes stayed trained on Flare. “You always do favor these quiet rooms when you need to be forceful, don't you, Flare?”
“Look, we were just...talking business! That's all. I was offering help to the kid. Tell her, Feather.” He insisted.
“Yes, of course you were.” Fleur replied. “Offering help by trying to intimidate this young man? I heard everything from outside. Five times the pony? Ha!” She scoffed at him. “Zhis is why I never signed a contract with you. You are always trying to make your own mark for your greedy gain. Using models like playthings and not real ponies. You are lucky that Photo Finish renewed your contract, or else it would be you on the streets.”
“How dare you! You can't just talk to me like I'm-”
“A fraud? A bully? A pathetic excuse of a man?” Fleur listed off. “Get out of here, Flare. Don't let me see you haunting either my or Featherweight's presence again. Or else there will be consequences.”
Flare Shot eyed them both before silently exiting, slamming the door behind him when he was gone. With him out of the room, Featherweight went slack, leaning against the desk again with a hand to prop him up. Everything suddenly caught up to him in a rush: the fear, the tension, the relief brought by Fleur's intervention.
“Thank you, Fleur.” He said as he looked up at her, standing upright when he'd caught his breath and calmed down. “That guy's just...not right. Photo Finish was right about him.”
“She told you about him?” she questioned. Looking up at her eyes, her gaze had softened; she was the Fleur he remembered now, warmer and more open.
“Yes. He barged in last week, after our first shoot. He...made some remarks.” Feather explained. “Photo warned me about him a little.”
“I see.” Fleur brought a hand up to his cheek, making him hold still as she looked over his muzzle and face. “Did he hurt you?”
“N-no, I'm fine.” Her fingers were soft against his cheek as she held him and smiled down at him. Her next words made him confused, however.
“Thank you, Feather.”
“For what?”
Fleur smiled at him, and his heart jumped as she spoke. “Your commitment to our project. Some ponies would have succumbed to Flare's tactics and simply allowed him to take over. But you persisted. If I was to be put under contract with him, I would be most afraid for my well-being.” She explained, looking to the door he departed through. “I have spoken to the models he has worked with in the past. The stories they told me...he is different from who he once was. Too arrogant. Too forceful. His spark is faded now.”
Featherweight nodded. “I wouldn't do that to you. I'd hate myself if I made you uncomfortable. I'd never want that.” He insisted. “I only want to do right by you.”
Fleur glanced over at him, her smile bright as she listened. “You are truly dedicated, aren't you?”
Featherweight rubbed the back of his head and looked aside at the floor, too bashful to meet her gaze again. “W-well, this whole thing isn't just about me. It's about you too. I can't just ignore you or pretend you don't matter. You do matter, a lot. To me.” He realized he was fumbling, and straightened up. “Anyway, we should probably go now. No need to hang around here, right?”
Fleur gave a small giggle that made him look to her. “Nervous to be in a room alone with a mare, Feather?” Her tease made his cheeks burn, and he looked away as he sought the right words to try and be witty back to her. She gave him no chance, instead leaning in and pecking his cheek with a light kiss that shut down his thought process to focus on the brief contact instead.
“Come along, Feather. You and I have much more work to do together.” Fleur said, opening the door and waiting for him to follow. Her bright violet eyes seemed to shine with something unfamiliar to Feather. Something different, but something promising only good things to him. He settled for a nod, and followed the mare out of the room and into the hall. They walked side by side, the stallion more comfortable in her presence than when he'd been dragged up here by Flare. She continued speaking to him, their chatter filling the quiet of the hall and elevator as they went. For Featherweight, they could've walked for miles if they needed to, so long as he could do it at her side. It was where he wanted to be, now more than ever.
The crackling sound of wood burning permeated the air of the room, the scent of the fireplace an inviting sensation to thoughts of storytelling and quiet nights in the wilderness. For Featherweight, there was not one, but two differences here. The first being that his wilderness surrounding him wasn't an amalgamation of trees, bushes, and weathered paths, but comfortable furniture, plush carpets, and the walls of the studio room he was inside.
The other difference was the company; the typical lit fire suggested the warm presence of other fellow friends and travelers alike, an experience Featherweight wasn't unfamiliar with from his time in Ponyville. In this apartment, Featherweight had only one other pony with him, and she was more captivating than the lit fire behind her. Fleur de Lis was lying on one side, facing towards the photographer with one hand on her hip, the other in front of her to steady herself.
Her appearance was immaculate as always, the decision on this shoot being one aimed for a more alluring, sensual take. Featherweight had gone to Photo Finish for advice, and she suggested aiming for a more intimate ambience than what he had been doing. She looked gorgeous in every shot so far, in his eyes. The selection she'd chosen here was designed in the idea of a romantic evening at home: a black dress with thin shoulder straps and a teasing window to bring attention to her curves and full figure. Fleur had her mane brushed and styled in a loose fashion that curled at the tips, kept away from her face as she smiled at the camera. A wine glass was placed just in front of where her chest rested, the positioning of herself and the glass keeping her decent yet teasing for a closer look in the same glance.
It only continued as one went further down her figure to her slim waist, the hill arching up once more to reach the swell of her hips. The dress ended at her lower thigh, her white legs crossed over the other, ending with her bare feet and pedicured toes. A hint of her tail made itself known just by her ankles, a dash of light purple and amethyst that only kept one focused on the model in her entirety as she was cast in the flickering lights of the fireplace.
Featherweight listened to the click of his camera as he snapped a picture, lowering it after the photo had registered in the camera's storage. He smiled at Fleur from his spot across from her, a couple of feet separating the two. “Let's take a breather for now. I don't want you feeling like you're being cooked and primed for dinner.” He remarked.
“Oui. I much rather prefer a diet of seafood and vegetables to meat.” She agreed, giving a small laugh as Featherweight approached and offered her a hand. “How did the shots look from that angle?”
Featherweight held the camera up, turning the display so she could see it as he did. Cycling through the photos, he paused at the first and made his way through each, the variety between them demonstrated in either his angle or of a small adjustment on Fleur's part.
“It seems to be going good there. The lighting is offset by your dress and coat color being opposites like they are, but it works to bring out your features. How long have you had that dress, you said?” He questioned.
“Only a month or two now. I have never had occasion to wear it until tonight.” Fleur answered, turning to smile at the stallion beside her. “You are growing more used to this now, no? Compared to our first shoot?”
Featherweight nodded at her remark. “It feels a lot easier, you're right.”
“I'm going to go switch into the next outfit.” Fleur said, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. He looked up from the camera to her as she smiled at him, dragging her finger along his shoulders before parting, turning to slip into the adjoined bathroom nearby. Featherweight watched her go, eyes trailing down her back to the heart-shaped rump that gave a small sway in her step before turning himself away to look at the fireplace instead.
Taking a slow breath, Featherweight kept his eyes on the flames while his hand ran through his mane. It did little to ease his nervousness. Since their encounter with Flare Shot, Fleur had become more open around him. She was more prone to physical contact, using gentle hugs or brushes of her hand instead of maintaining a casual distance. The newfound closeness did plenty to bolster his spirits while working, let alone the way his heart would rush every time she touched him. He would try to tell himself that these emotions weren't a crush, wasn't him falling for the beautiful mare; but he couldn't stop feeling nervous whenever she got close.
She was beautiful, intelligent, and bore a kind heart. He could see it in her smile, her laugh, the way she listened. The loud crack of the wood burning snapped him out of his thoughts, color rushing to his cheeks as he realized he'd zoned out while thinking of Fleur. Shaking himself from it, he put his mind back to task, checking over the camera again to be sure there was no impending problems or technical issues he might run into mid-shoot.
Fleur's return was announced by the door creaking as she opened it, stepping back into the room and closing the door behind her. “Voila!” She exclaimed when Featherweight looked up to her. It made him swallow down the shyness bubbling up inside him again as he took her in. She bore no shoes, socks, or leggings even, this time going with an elegant and somewhat fluffy looking red bathrobe that went with her white coat extremely well.
“Red always does look well on you, Fleur.” He complimented.
“Oui, Feather. Very astute.” Fleur praised while walking up to him. With the way that the bathrobe would shift and seem to shimmer against her figure, Featherweight felt it was a reasonable wager that there was nothing hidden beneath that thin bathrobe other than Fleur's own eye-catching body, a fact that rang throughout the stallion's being. “I had other ideas, but this one stood out to me. Do you think it suits my figure well enough?”
Like the question needed to be asked. Fleur's elegant figure kept the bathrobe tight about her torso, her full bosoms resting on her chest without a bra or any other support to keep them upright. The red silk material hugged her sides, fitting snug and proper to show how wide her hips were. The tantalizing exposure of her thighs past the end of the bathrobe made him jerk his eyes back up to her face, where her violet orbs waited, bright as they gazed back at him.
“Y-yes. Definitely. You look great, Fleur.” He spoke, managing to find his voice. Fleur nodded before bringing a finger to her chin as she spoke.
“What if we tried a different camera position for this one?” she suggested.
Featherweight turned away from the model and let his eyes wander until they found a small stepladder propped by the door. Nodding, he went to it and retrieved the stepladder before bringing it to the setup. “What if we tried one from above? We wouldn't have to worry about glare from the firelight coming off of the red colors, and we'd have a full perspective shot of you with a good background?”
Fleur clapped her hands. “Magnifique! Allow me a moment to get in position, Featherweight.” She said, passing by him to move to her spot in front of the fireplace. She was close enough that the stallion could smell a hint of her perfume, a subtle but sweet fragrance that made him pause before shaking his head to clear his senses. Turning, he watched as she laid upon her back, settling herself before stretching her legs out, one arm curled around her middle as she let the other rest above her head. Featherweight unfolded the stepladder and placed it near the model's body, choosing to try from her side than directly beneath her as the stepladder would have been too close that way.
Stepping atop the fixture, Featherweight turned his camera back on and settled atop his post before staring into the viewer. His mind came to a pause, however, when he took in Fleur's image.
'Stars and Moon above.'
It was like looking at a picture of genuine erotica, the kind one would see on the bookshelves of markets across Equestria. Unlike the cheap literature, Fleur's image was gorgeous. From his vantage, the firelight to her right gave her white coat and the red color of the bathrobe a pleasant glow. Her mane was cast about her head like a halo of light violet, bringing attention to the smoldering gaze she gave the camera – andhim – as she laid upon the floor. The robe itself had parted slightly from her posture, giving a tantalizing peek of her hefty breasts but maintaining enough decency that she was in no way obscene or too risque.
His hands shook the camera before he took a breath and steadied himself. 'Focus. Do your job.' He told himself as he snapped one, then two shots. Fleur would give an adjustment every couple seconds, changing her expression from sultry to inviting, to a come hither look, to a playful pout; a wheel of expressions that had Featherweight's heart pounding and sweat crawling down the back of his neck.
“Do you want to change position again?” He questioned after finishing a shot. His hands were starting to hurt a little from how tight he was gripping the camera.
“Perhaps. Allow me to adjust this.” Fleur remarked before lifting herself up on her elbows, hands coming up to pull at the cloth of the robe. Feather was left to watch from his position above her, his eyes wandering as she worked at her cloth. A hum of thought left Fleur's lips as it seemed the robe wouldn't do as she beckoned; a sigh left her before she scooted back, to give herself more leverage and pull. The robe moved, but in a way that left Featherweight to nearly drop his camera as as the bathrobe fell aside, caught on some sort of hitch. “Oh!”
For the briefest of moments, he was treated to the sight of Fleur's bare chest. His eyes hovered on the visage of the model's exposed skin and darkened areolae, the white breasts capped with dark red nubs that weren't erect, but no less tantalizing to the stallion's view. His imagination conjured the idea of what they’d look like up close.
“There we go, slight wardrobe malfunction. Feather?” Fleur looked up from herself to only find him stepping away from the stepladder and stumbling back from her position. His hand was over his eyes as he fell back against a sofa, the cushion catching his fall as he curled back onto it. The camera was left on the far side of the couch, abandoned and still on but away from Feather's trembling other hand.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.” He repeated again and again, his eyes kept hidden by his hand overtop them.
“Feather! What is the matter?” Fleur sat up, looking down to see the cause of the wardrobe malfunction: the stepladder had caught the end of the robe, the backside having been longer than she'd realized and thus when she'd tried to change position, it had caught. But Featherweight's behavior to such a sight was much more concerning. Standing up, she tied her robe closed and approached the shivering stallion. “Featherweight, darling, whats wrong?”
“Please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to look!” He answered, keeping his gaze hidden away from seeing her. “Please, I-I'll go home, a-and we can forget that happened and-”
“Feather, calm down. You'll give yourself a heart attack!” Fleur said, coming up beside him. Feather's body continued to shake before he felt and heard Fleur's magic glow alight. His body was being lifted off the sofa; his trembling renewed, imagining he was about to be thrown to the door for his mistake. But instead of the harsh rebuke of the wooden floor, his form found purchase in a soft embrace as silk caressed against his arm and hand. Arms encircled around his shoulders as he realized Fleur was beside him, and holding him to her. Her warmth was soft, as much as her curves were against him.
“W-what?” He didn't peek out; it could be a trick, a ruse. He could have misled himself and Fleur may only be intending to keep him put to scold him, for all he knew. That was how everypony back home treated him, how she'd treated him.
“Breathe, Feather. Breathe.” She whispered to him. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears as much as his own rapid, short breaths, but found it hard to meet the request. “It is alright. I am not going to hurt you. I would never dream of it.” Her words were spoken slow, clear and gentle as he listened to her over the crackling of the fireplace. “Breathe.”
It took a few minutes of silence, but Fleur's patience was rewarded with Featherweight's gradual calming as he inhaled and exhaled in long breaths, their fervor dying down as he rested against her neck and shoulder, cradled there by the older mare as she watched over him.
“Are you ok, Feather?” She asked.
He nodded, silent but calmed from her gentle hold and reassurances. The sharp sensation of fear had been dulled to a low undercurrent, subdued by the new feeling of shame at his reaction to her beautiful form being revealed.
“Featherweight, please. Look at me.” Fleur beckoned, but Feather didn't move. It was not until her own hand came up and clasped his, gentle but firm, that he responded. He let her move his hand, his eyes afraid to meet hers as he looked up. The stallion let her hold his hand as she stared back at him, the violet orbs searching what he felt like was his own soul as much as his very face. “You don't need to be afraid of me, Featherweight. I would never harm you. I wouldn't dream of it!”
Featherweight nodded. “I-I know.” He mumbled out. “I-I'm sorry.”
“There is no need to apologize. But I must know: what made you respond in such a way?” She questioned. “Truth be told, you would be the first man to have turned away from moi when I was exposed than to stay and look.”
Featherweight shook his head. “I-It's not right to look at a mare exposed when she isn't supposed to be. I'm not...I'm not a perv.” He answered, eyes casting aside from the beauty as she listened.
“No, you are not. You are my friend, Featherweight. A dear friend.” She replied, using her hand on his cheek to turn him back to her. “This is something you've had trouble with before, have you not? Something in the past?”
Featherweight looked into her violet pools before sighing, moving to lay back against the sofa and away from the mare beside him. The plushness of the sofa wasn't as comforting as the mare's embrace, but his emotions dizzied the line between comfort and discomfort in that moment. “I'm not exactly sure I...I mean, why does this matter to you? Shouldn't you be telling me off for seeing your chest or something? Isn't that how this works out?”
Fleur shook her head. “It was an accident, Feather. I wouldn’t scold you for something you didn’t do on purpose. Do you know how often things like this happen in our line of work?. We are all grown adults here; nopony is going to be immature and raise a fuss when we are all used to such things.” She explained. “A model takes it as a compliment when her beauty catches the eye of an onlooker. I have posed in much naughtier sets, believe me.”
Featherweight's cheeks colored, but he nodded at her reply. “You remember where I come from? Ponyville?” Fleur nodded, and the stallion continued. “When I was younger, like, five or six years ago. I was an awkward teen. Like, really awkward.”
“As are we all when we are stretching growing legs and learning new emotions.” Fleur replied.
“It does. Pretty predictable, I know. A-anyway. You know how when you're young, you make mistakes, right?”
“Learning from mistakes is a part of life, yes.” Fleur said.
“Yeah, well. This mistake I made stuck around for awhile.” His remark left his expression downcast, but Fleur kept her eyes fixed on him. Seeing her undeterred, he took a breath before beginning.
“There was a girl, Diamond Tiara was her name. When I was still in school back in Ponyville. She and I didn't exactly see on the best of terms at first, since she was kinda obnoxious to everypony. Some of my other friends got through to her though and she lightened up a lot. Or, so I'd thought.” He started, looking to Fleur before continuing. “We were working on a project in class together, for a summer festival. Just something simple. Since it was the end of the day, a lot of my classmates left their things out, scraps on the floor, tools. Everypony was more focused on their vacation coming up.”
Fleur nodded, and he continued. “I was helping put up some decorations around the class, and I tripped on something on the floor. I didn’t have good balance back then, even for a pegasus, so I tried to catch onto something to help me out. Unfortunately, it was Diamond Tiara in front of me. My hands grabbed her shirt, and when I went down, so did her shirt too. She was left topless in front of the whole class, myself included. I had maybe a second before she screamed and slapped me across the face. Everypony was laughing, because they thought I’d done it on purpose. I didn’t mean to, it just happened that way.” Featherweight leaned back into the couch. “Because of that, I’m always nervous around mares. I’m worried about making another accident and making myself out like a fool again.”
Fleur shook her head, raising her hand up to his cheek and turning him back to her again. Featherweight's brown eyes were cautious, but Fleur's violets kept him still as she spoke.
“Wounds of an emotional nature are sometimes the hardest to get beyond, Featherweight. Nopony is weak for dealing with such things. But you pressed on, no? You are here now, in Canterlot, a city few can dream of succeeding in and working towards your dreams. It takes time to heal, but it mends itself.” Surprising him, she leaned down and planted a brief, momentary kiss upon his cheek. It left his face red, but he kept listening.
“The past is in the past because it chooses to be. You are not the stallion you were when you were young. You have grown, matured. You are an upstanding young man, a hard worker. Do not let yourself be defined by one bad event: surpass it and learn from it, to become that much better yourself.” Her smile widened as she stayed close. “You might even find a mare who would want you to throw her shirt off, no?”
Fleur's words struck a chord with Featherweight, making the stallion nod at her wisdom. His trembling had ceased by now, soothed by her comfort. At her joke, he gave a quiet snort before speaking.
“That's really good advice, Fleur. But, I mean, look at me.” He gestured at himself with his free hand. “I'm not exactly somepony to grace the cover of Equestrian Illustrated shirtless, now am I?”
Fleur hummed in consideration before a playful smile came to her face. “Why not let moi be the judge of that?” She suggested.
“Beg pardon?”
Featherweight looked up at the taller mare as she stood up from the couch, following suit when she gestured for him to.
“Tell me, Featherweight. Your once-upon marefriend blamed your apparent lack of muscle as a cause to depart you, no?” She questioned. At his uncertain nod, she continued. “Take off your shirt.”
Featherweight blushed. “What? Why?”
Fleur's smile turned a touch impish as she waited, patient. “Am I not the experienced model in this room, Featherweight?”
“Yes, you are.”
“And would I not have an eye for what could and should make for a decent appearance too? Clothed or not?”
“...I think so?”
Fleur nodded. “Good. Then we agree. Take off your shirt.”
Confused, but curious, Featherweight unbuttoned the red polo he'd been wearing and laid it on the sofa. The air of the fan brushed against his pale coat, making him raise his arms up to cover his frame. He held them there until Fleur approached him, getting him to lower his arms as she laid her hands upon them.
“Trust me, Feather. Nopony else is here but you and I. I will not hurt you. I only wish to show you what I see.” She explained.
Feather let his arms come down until they were at his sides, leaving him to stand bare from the waist up before the supermodel. His nervousness tugged at his mind to put his shirt back on, that she was going to inspect him and find him lacking, despite her assurances. He was a thin stallion, after all; no real muscle or bulk, a credit to his pegasus heritage. But he reasoned there must be some purpose to her intentions, particularly after her curious statement.
Fleur brought a hand to her chin as she looked him up and down, leaving the stallion unsure if he should be trying to pose for her much like she often did in front of the camera. He settled for staying still while Fleur began to walk about him.
“Do you think beauty is a one-way street, Featherweight? That to be beautiful, one can only cross that street if you have the right traits? The right mane, the right complexion, the right figure, so on?” She paused at his side, bringing a delicate hand to his shoulder.
“Well, I mean. No? I don't think anything's ever defined just one way. Or it shouldn't be.” He answered.
Fleur nodded. “Good. You see, being the success I am, many might think that only a stallion would catch my attention if he is of the same grade as moi. But this is not the case.” She explained, her hand dragging along his shoulder to his back as she moved. “I apply a different measure. Different ideas. A stallion with broad shoulders may be strong, for instance, but that stallion may also be too rough, too forceful. Too forward in his ways. You are not a huge stallion, but that suits you for you do not need to be rough or forceful. Your mannerisms show me that.”
She continued, moving to his right as he turned to watch her. A shiver crawled up his spine as her index and middle fingers trailed along his right side up to his shoulder. It kept him curious to where this was leading, as much as he savored her delicate touch. Her fingers were smooth and soft, like her own voice as she spoke. “Some would mistake a model for wanting to have a coltfriend who is rigid and strong, muscular and buff. Not I. I do not need a beefcake of a man to keep my company, if he expects all the attention to be on him.” Fleur smiled at Featherweight as he listened with rapt focus on her. “You give me more than enough attention that a mare feels in the spotlight without even trying. Many a mare likes those qualities. But perhaps most appealing of all?”
Featherweight felt his cheeks color as her hand came to rest on his chest. “Y-yes?”
“You are kind. Gentle. Honest. The qualities of a stallion that give more radiance to themselves than any sort of physical charm ever could. You may have been harmed in the past, but here, you will not find such cruelty forced upon you. Not from moi.” She explained. “I would never allow harm to come to somepony who treats me as an individual, and not just the pretty mare for a cover shot. You stood by me when Flare tried to tempt you away and discourage you. You have integrity.” Fleur paused as she brought her free hand to her own chest, mimicking her gesture upon himself.
“When we first met, I was not sure what to make of the young man before me. Would he be a friend? A chore? A problem? You answered that question on our first day together; talking to me, sharing with me. Treating me as an individual, and not merely a pretty flower to look upon. You showed commitment against adversity, and here,” her fingers gently rubbed his fur, “a heart that's pure. So if you're going to ask moi if you are one to be desired? Believe me when I say you are.”
Featherweight considered her words as she withdrew from him and moved back in front of the fireplace. It was unexpected for Fleur to be so open with him, but it was reassuring. It also stoked the flames he'd been keeping down inside all the while.
“T-to be fair, Fleur, a-and I have to be. You're...very desirable too.” He confessed. The words spilled from his tongue quicker than he could think to restrain or rephrase them. “Smart. Gorgeous to look at. Fun to be around. Out of all your pictures you've ever done, I honestly think your best are when you're smiling. And not the fake, practice one. It's that real one, the one when you're happy.”
Fleur beamed at him and leaned in closer. Featherweight had but a moment to see her drawing in before she kissed his cheek. Unlike the time before, this one dwelled longer, and she pulled back only just enough that he could still feel her breath against his skin.
“I am happy around you, Featherweight.” She said, her cheeks a red that he knew wasn't from her makeup.
He stayed put there, neither of them making a move as the crackle of the fireplace loomed in the background. It was Fleur who moved first, standing upright again before giving him a smile. “So shall we resume? I still have other outfits to try on for you.”
Featherweight nodded and fetched his shirt, throwing it back on before her words caught up to him He didn't know if it was intentional or not; his hammering heart didn't care either. “Sure. I'm up for it if you are. Let's make it our best. Together.”
Fleur's grin never faded all the rest of the night, the model giving Featherweight many a tantalizing tease as he snapped dozens of photos, pushing his camera's storage nearly to the brink. He wasn't sure if she intended to show all of these to Photo Finish, and in that moment, he couldn't find it in himself to care. He just wanted to see more of her.
Featherweight rode the elevator in quiet, his camera bag slung at his side as he watched the count of the floor rise with him, continuing up and up the large tower that was one of several deluxe apartments of the rich and influential. The building was one that few could miss, as it stood high above others in Canterlot with ease. If anything, it made Featherweight feel like his wallet would shrivel up to even try and pay to live here. In his clenched hand at his side was the passkey that had granted him entry to the building, a gift from Fleur from the shoot they'd finished a couple days ago.
The elevator dinged on his arrival, and Featherweight strolled out into the empty hallway towards the room number Fleur had told him was hers. Thinking of her brought a blush to his cheeks; more and more, he realized he was building affections for the older mare as more than just good friends. She was enthralling to him, a radiant figure that nopony he knew from Ponyville could match up to. Her laughter, her smile would make him grin and feel delight. It made him want to ask for an extension on the project, if just to get more time with her.
He snapped out from these thoughts when he realized he'd been standing in front of her apartment door for the better part of five minutes. Raising a hand, he knocked on the door and waited for her to answer. When the door opened, he opened his mouth to greet her.
“Hey Fleur, sorry I'm a little...” he trailed off as the mare who opened the door was wearing only a bathrobe, her wet mane about her face while the light made the droplets of water on her bare neck and cheeks gleam. “Did I come at a bad time?”
“Non, Feather, you're right on time. Prompt as ever; it is moi who is a little behind.” She answered, holding the door wider to reveal her form. The fluffy white bathrobe kept her bare form hidden, but it was no less tantalizing as the robe reached the tops of her thighs, leaving plenty of bare leg for him to drink in. “Come in, come in. I will finish cleaning up and be right with you.”
Invited in, Featherweight followed the wet mare inside. His eyes widened as he took in the lavishness of the apartment. The size was wide and open, enough that two of his small room back uptown would fit and still have room to spare. He took off his shoes at the door before proceeding further, his sock-clad feet silent on the carpeted floor. To his left, a part of the room sunk down a small level to make room for the L-shaped sofa that fit into the designed corner of the sunken level. A large television was sat opposite the sofa, attached to the wall and colored a sleek black. Beneath it, a matching black cabinet held a simple stereo and sound system setup, several films laid beside the stereo player. The light from the window opposite him gave the room plenty of light, adding a brightness to the wood décor that dotted the otherwise bare wall, no doubt holding other means of entertainment for Fleur and her guests.
To his right, the kitchen was revealed as attached to the living room, seating arranged along the counter where one could cook food and deliver it to a waiting hungry pony immediately. He could make out a fridge, oven, sink, and all other amenities one would need to make a home feel like home. “Wow. I almost feel like I should ask permission to sit down.” He told her as she walked up beside him.
“Oh, don't be silly. My home is your home to enjoy! Allow me a few minutes to finish cleaning up. Make yourself comfortable, Feather.” Fleur assured before departing for a doorway at the far end of the living room, her light violet tail swaying through the hole in the robe over her rear before she vanished out of sight for now.
He waited until she was gone before setting his bag down, looking about the apartment before deciding to seat himself on the lounge for the time being. It was a comfortable seat, the cushions sinking and letting him fall back into it with ease. It was certainly an improvement compared to his small and rather unkind mattress back home. He looked over the selection of films she had, recognizing a couple popular titles along with a few foreign numbers he'd never seen mention of in the papers or in passing.
'She must be eclectic or something .' He thought to himself as he picked one up, turning it over to read the back cover. His eyes were drawn to the portrait of the female lead for a moment, wondering if Fleur had ever been asked to star in films.
“Feather?”
Fleur's calling voice made him jump, fumbling the dvd case in his hands until he caught it and set it back in its proper place. “Y-yes?” he called back. “Everything ok?”
“Oui, I am fine! Could you come in to give me a little assistance, please?” she asked.
Featherweight nodded to himself. “Sure, be right there!” He answered before following the path she'd taken to her bedroom. The door was cracked open, and he pushed it open further to allow himself in. Compared to her open living room, Fleur's bedroom was more confined, lacking a window outside but lit by a single fixture on the ceiling. The bed was placed towards the left side of the room, occupying a corner to itself. Dark blue sheets covered her bed, the pillows atop it a lighter shade that complimented the sheets. Past the foot of her bed was an open closet, various garments hanging inside that ranged from casual wear to formal red-carpet shows. To the right and away from the closet and bed was her vanity mirror, where the owner of the home herself stood.
Featherweight's breath caught in his throat as he took in her appearance. The mare had certainly been quick to dry off and dress, no doubt a practiced talent of her profession. The dress she'd selected was a blackish-blue hue that was trimmed with a gold outline, her back revealed from a wide V that started from her shoulders and reached down past her middle to where her tail peeked out to sway behind her shapely rump. In fact, the dress itself seemed to be rather tight around her rear, judging from how it clung to every inch of her cheeks to tuck underneath it and pool at the tops of her thighs. When she turned to face him, the front display was as enticing and tight as the back, her cleavage teasing his eyes from the deep V cut of the dress while the rest adhered to her slim figure to better illustrate her curves.
“Wow!” He muttered under his breath. “You look...fantastic!”
Fleur giggled, the laugh making her breasts shake under the dress. It took a good deal of Featherweight's will to keep his eyes trained on her face and not her cleavage.
“Thank you, Feather. I had to have this one adjusted for my figure, as the original was a little too small in the rear.” She remarked. Her mane was brushed and straightened, kept loose and allowed to flow down her shoulders and back like a violet-rose waterfall while her bangs framed her flawless face. “Knowing you like it makes it certainly a good choice.”
Featherweight felt his cheeks darken, but he smiled and nodded. “You'd look great in anything, Fleur. But you've probably heard that line too many times to count.”
“Perhaps. But it is still good to hear.” she joked, giggling again before gesturing a hand at the bedroom. “I was thinking to do a two part shoot in here. A sort of 'evening date' design. This is good attire for an evening date out, isn't it?” She gave a quick spin about, her tail whipping in a circle with her before she came to a stop on her bare toes, hand on her hip as she cocked it to one side. Fleur was the definition of “tall drink of water” to Featherweight's eyes, and he had to shake his head to throw himself out of a stupor from watching her.
“Y-yeah. I think that'd work. What's the second part?” he asked.
Fleur walked up to him and held a finger to his lips, making him pause at the contact. “In good time, my dear Feather. Let us see how this does for us first.”
He wasn't sure why she'd not tell him outright what the second half of her idea was, but Featherweight knew better than to question the fashion model's line of thinking. She knew what she was doing, and he could trust her just as much as she trusted him. He fetched his camera, coming back to find the mare seated on the small cushioned seat and waiting, looking over her shoulder as he returned.
“Right. Let's get started.”
Fifteen minutes passed in calm quiet, Fleur demonstrating her idea of a beauty preparing for a night on the town. Featherweight had plenty of candid shots of the model as she applied a light color of blush to her cheeks, bringing out the brightness of her violet eyes, before moving to lightly gloss her lips to emphasize their fullness. Featherweight had felt a pang of desire resonate inside him when she had pouted at the camera, pushing down thoughts of what it'd be like to kiss those lips to focus on getting a proper shot. She gave him a chance to cool down as she brushed her mane, her magic aiding her as she closed her eyes and hummed. Fleur's humming was soft in the stallion's ear, the only other sound being the click of his camera.
“I think we got plenty there, Fleur.” He said when she sat the brush down. He regretted saying the words after they slipped from his mouth; he didn't want her to stop. “Did you have more you wanted to try?”
“There is. But first, can you close the door there? I fear the light may be a little much from the living room.” She suggested.
Featherweight nodded and got up to close the door, but paused as he grabbed for the doorknob. The thought of being in a personal space like that with her made his heart quicken, his mind bringing back the thoughts he'd tossed aside during the shoot only moments ago. His pulse pounded in his fingers, but he reminded himself that this was the same woman who defended him before from Flare Shot, who hadn't rejected his insecurities and had instead embraced them and him. He could trust her.
Steeling his resolve, Featherweight closed the door and returned to find Fleur standing by the bed, hands behind her back as she waited for him. “Ok. So what's next?” He asked.
Fleur turned away from Featherweight to step by the bed, letting her hand glide along the cover before coming to a stop. “Next, monsieur Feather, is something only a few ponies have enjoyed before.” Her words confused him, but he kept quiet as Fleur brought her other hand up to her shoulder. Slowly, she pulled the strap of her bra down, her other hand coming up to mirror its partner as they took hold of the loops and moved them to her bicep. Casting a look over her shoulder at the staring stallion, Fleur only smiled before releasing the straps from her hands. Without them holding it up, the dress itself slid off of her curvy figure to pool on the floor at her bare feet.
She was naked and absolutely flawless with no lingerie, no panties, nothing to cover her modesty or figure. Featherweight felt his face burn as he took her in, shaking in his spot from the alluring sight of her bare curves and supple flesh. In the gentle lighting of the room, she was radiant without a need for blinding light, her beauty doing all the work to show off herself before him. Her breasts rested at ease on her chest as she turned to face him, mercy being granted as she held one hand over her crotch to hide her flower from the world. It tugged at Featherweight's imagination to see what was behind her hand, while her other arm reached under her bosom to give it a slight lift. Fleur only drank in Featherweight's stare, her confident smile completing the picture of a erotic covergirl ready to be photographed.
“F-fleur?” he mumbled out after he found the capacity to speak again. He could feel a throbbing in his chest from his heartbeat as much as in his pants, unable to resist the allure of her beauty. “W-what is...i-is this the second part?”
“Oui, Feather. After all, when a night goes so well for a couple, some hope for more than just a farewell at the door.” Fleur remarked. She took a step towards him, her mounds giving a delightful jiggle that he couldn't help a glance at before looking back to Fleur's eyes. “So I wished to show the beauty of what a romantic evening really is”
“Y-yeah, just...” Featherweight trailed off as he couldn't help but look her over again, the mare taking another step closer. His height put him at eye level with her bosom, making it easy to see the light pink areola of her nipples while her arms kept her them just out of sight. He felt himself twitch in his pants again, but tried to steady his heartbeat to keep talking. Was he talking to keep her coming closer? As an excuse to keep seeing her like this? “Are you ok with me? Seeing you like this?”
Fleur smiled and moved her arm from her breasts, letting them rest at ease as her hand came up to his cheek. Featherweight had a momentary glimpse of the pink nubs that capped her breasts before his gaze was drawn back up again to her violet eyes.
“I would not invite you here if I did not feel ok with this, Feather. I know you, and trust you. I want you to take all of zhis in.” She explained with a smile. “I would not let somepony like Flare Shot within a mile of my bedroom. But you, I can trust. I want you to see what a real mare looks like, and to enjoy it,” she winked at him, “all you wish to.”
She knew. She must've known that he was aroused by the sight of her like this, he reasoned. But she wasn't mocking him, she wasn't shoving him out the door, no. Fleur was encouraging him to enjoy it, to embrace the side of him that was his lust and desires with her as his inspiration. It took a moment to comprehend it, but Feather's head gave an irrefutable nod of acceptance to her thinking.
“Alright. How um...how should we do this?” He asked as she released his cheek and turned away, walking back to the bed. The sway of her hips was obvious in its intent, but he drank up the free look of seeing those bare legs walk, how her juicy butt cheeks would jiggle and bounce with each step she took.. “I'm not practiced with shots of a nude model.”
Fleur giggled, seating herself on the bed as she spoke. “Leave that to moi. Let us try this first.” Shifting around, the unicorn took her time to position herself, choosing a position with her back to Featherweight as she curled her legs back, tilting herself at an angle where one could make out the slope of her breast from behind, yet she remained decent. Her rear was left bare, her tail out of the way and pooled beside it for the time being. Fleur rested one arm on the bed to balance herself, the other reaching back towards Fleur in a come hither gesture she held, topping off the look with a smile that made the stallion swallow.
Bringing the camera up, Featherweight went to work, snapping pictures at a steady pace as he moved from spot to spot, sometimes lifting the camera up or tilting it to one side. The various angle shots were a common enough practice, but in this case, each shot presented a different allure of Fleur. Featherweight couldn’t deny the personal pleasure of witnessing Fleur’s bare bottom, round and soft, before his eyes. He was allowed a few photos before Fleur changed position; this time on her back, her arm draped over her flat belly as she raised her legs. Featherweight’s position at her side allowed her wide hips to cover her nethers his view, but he found himself equally drawn elsewhere. Her bare bosom and sultry expression captivated him, how she would pout her full lips as she gazed back at him and the camera. She was relishing being on display for him, as well as the obvious signs that he enjoyed what she had to offer.
He came to a pause as he stood in line with her head, focusing a few shots on a profile of her face and not just her luscious curves. There was a touch of red that formed on Fleur's cheeks as they'd continued, but it served to heighten her beauty as she beamed at the camera. Featherweight let his imagination soar as he envisioned being in that bed with her smiling at him like that, her hand reaching to touch his bare chest as her long, smooth leg would drag itself over his own.
Featherweight stared at his camera screen. He was much closer to Fleur now than he'd been a few moments ago; too lost in his daydream to realize what he was doing. This close, he could count the eyelashes on her eyes as she batted them at him, her soft looking lips moving as she spoke.
“Getting a closer shot?” she murmured up to him. Her tone was soft to his ears.
“Yeah. I was, just. Yeah.” he mumbled as he got on one knee, snapping a photo of her face, close enough now that he could swear her breath would fog the glass in one exhale if she desired. He stopped moving as her hand came up to the camera, taking hold of it before he let it slip from his grasp into her own before she lowered it. Without the camera, it was just her and him, and for a moment he hesitated, lost in her violet orbs as she stared back.
“Do you think maybe you should come a little closer?” She invited. The corner of her lips were turned up to hint at a smile, not lost to the stallion as he stayed kneeling in front of her, like the proverbial knight before his queen. It made sense to Featherweight's mind; he would've been at her beck and call without a second thought, to be allowed this close.
“I-I could. Maybe.” He answered back. His hand tried to reach for the camera, but it couldn't find it. His fingers searched, spreading across the soft fabric of the carpeted floor, but found nothing of the camera near him. Fleur kept her eyes on him, her smile growing as only inches separated them now.
His lips could feel something on them, something wet and warm and unlike anything else he'd touched with them. His mind fast-forwarded to catch up with what was transpiring, to realize that Fleur had closed the gap and was kissing him. She was kissing him! He held still, too surprised to respond but not moving away as she held the kiss for a moment longer, pulling back only enough to speak.
His own mouth tingled from the contact while Fleur spoke, a tantalizing whisper that danced on his ears and tugged at the imposed self-restraint he'd been keeping himself with. “How was your first real kiss?”
Featherweight wasn't sure how to answer her; even that brief contact had singed the nerves of his brain from remembering how to talk other than to utter mere small words in reply.
“...m-more?”
Fortunately for Featherweight, Fleur could understand the half-mumbled word that left his lips and went back in for more, her muzzle pressing closer to his as her lips rubbed and slid against his own in a slow but gradual deep kiss that had him clinging to the bed for support as her soft hands caressed his cheeks. There, they pet him as she breathed through her nose, the kiss continuing as long as he could handle until he needed to breathe through his mouth, panting for air as his face burned red. He was positively throbbing stiff in his pants now, just from her kiss.
“Fleur...” Words still failed him, too far adrift in the sudden rush of hormones and pleasure that he'd been denied for so long. What should he say? His heart hammered in his chest, blood racing to the south and away from the north where he needed it to speak, just to even remember what speaking was. He could only manage a small shiver, and opened his eyes to look into the model's patient gaze. The smile had never left her glorious lips, lips he was finding himself addicted to already.
“Would you like me to show you how a true lover shows her affections, Feather?” She whispered, the hands at his cheeks stroking lightly through his fur as she spoke. She seemed luminous before him, a vision of beauty that he couldn't find reason to refuse. He wanted this, he could feel it in his very being. So he gave a simple nod, not trusting his mouth to speak or even try to be coherent.
She guided him down, moving him to sit down to get him off his stiff legs and onto his back. The soft bed cushioned him with ease, letting him sink into it with little effort. His legs dangled off the edge, and stayed there as Fleur slid to his side and kissed him again. He imagined she was hoping for him to respond to her actions, and so he tried to return her kiss as best he could. Distractions tugged at his mind everywhere it looked: the rush of excitement and nervousness inside him of what was transpiring, the soft warmth of Fleur's bare chest pressed into his side, her hand coming to rest on his chest and rubbing there as her lips caressed him. Her soft mane tickled his cheek as she moved, parting from the kiss to smile down at him.
“Do you see, Feather? Zhere is no harm here for you. No pain. No anger. Just zhe affections of somepony who wishes to help you let go, to feel free.” She murmured.
“Y-you're right, just...I-I've never imagined that I'd actually be here. With you. Like...like this.” He answered. “W-what do I do? What should I-” He was cut off by her finger pressed to his lips, stemming the nervous flow of words that was trying to escape him.
“Relax, first. Zhe world likes to make us think we must rush lovemaking, to get ourselves there as quick as possible. But I find zhe real enjoyment to be in exploring at our own pace.” Fleur said before coming down to kiss his ear, whispering into it with a tone that made him shiver. “And I have a very strong desire to explore you, mon chere.”
Nodding his understanding, Fleur giggled and kissed a trail back to his lips, tantalizing him once more with her skilled ability to please him with such minimal effort. The hand that was on his chest made its way down his torso, slow but prominent as it passed his midriff and groped the front of his pants. The outline of his penis trying to move past its confines could surely be felt by her grasp, but she didn't push past it yet. She rubbed and petted him instead, his legs twitching as she toyed with his arousal.
Her wet tongue left his maw, giving room for them both to speak as she peered down at him from above, her mane framing her face in an alluring halo of picturesque beauty. “May I press on, dear Feather? I feel zhat there is something you'd wish to show me, hiding away in here.” Her grip changed to a gentle squeeze that made him let out a small moan. But she didn't move past it; he looked to see her waiting. She was letting him decide the pace, to be the one to call the shots. It was a touching gesture, her patience for him.
He nodded, giving her a small if nervous smile. “Just...not sure how much I stack up.” He mumbled as her hands worked at undoing his belt and button front.
“You are already leagues ahead of many, mon chere.” She assured. “After all; you are in bed with one of zhe most desired mares in Canterlot. A fact that zhe braggards outside can only dream of claiming.”
Her reassurances eased his nerves a little, giving him enough clarity to lift his middle up when her magic tugged his pants down and away, his boxers following suit. The cool air of the room greeted his exposed crotch and thighs, his cock rigid as it pointed upwards towards him against his groin.
“...goodness.” Fleur murmured as she looked down at his cock. “You have your own surprises as well.”
Feather looked down to where she was looking. “Is it...really that big?”
He’d never tried to compare himself with others in the past, but from his vantage, his cock was certainly long. Reaching from his groin to past his abdomen, his member was a dull pink with dark splotches of black as it neared the base. His ball-sack rested beneath it against himself and the bedsheets, and as Fleur reached to try and grip him, he found that her hand could only grasp around a third of his width. The thick cock gave a throb from her caress while she leaned closer to him.
“It is magnificent. Your cock is...marvelous.” Fleur whispered from beside him, her muzzle tucked into his neck as she kissed at his exposed clavicle. He could feel himself twitching in her hand as she stroked, moving in a slow rhythm up and down as they laid there. It occurred to him that he should be doing something, anything, to reciprocate. He wanted to show that he might be new to all of this, but that he wasn't going to be a boring partner.
His eyes drifted down her elegant form laid up beside him, tingling shots of pleasure coursing through him from the dual stimulation of his length by her hand and his neck by her lips and tongue. Her bare bosom laid against his side; full and shapely and wholly unattended by anything or anypony. His free hand next to her lifted up, mindful of brushing against her belly before hesitating just before reaching her breasts. He steeled himself and took the dive, his palm grasping for her breast and taking hold of it as fully as he could. Her generous chest was soft and smooth against his fingers, warm as he gave it a gentle squeeze that beckoned a soft gasp from the mare against his neck.
He paused; had he gone too far too quick? “I-I'm sorry.” He murmured to her, but withheld the rest of his apology as she smiled up at him.
“How does it feel? Tell me.” She asked, shifting her posture to better present her bosom to him. It pressed more of her breast into his palm, his grip letting her overflow past his fingers as her nipple poked against his skin. Her hand on his length continued to stroke him, keeping him pleasured just as he was doing while exploring her.
“I-It's so soft. Warm.” He mumbled as he looked from her grinning expression to the breast he was fondling in his hand. “I-Is this ok?” he asked.
“Oui, Featherweight. Love is all about exploring one another. Some are rough, and some enjoy the roughness. I prefer to let things take their course as it happens, to savor every touch and every caress.” She answered. Her free hand found his other unoccupied hand and raised it, letting it grasp her other breast. The pair had shifted position, Featherweight turned on his side halfway to let him play with her chest, while she shuffled closer, her long leg draped over his thigh as her handjob continued onwards. “Touch me all you wish.”
Taking her invitation for what it was, Featherweight's hands began to knead and squeeze the soft flesh they held, massaging her mounds and beckoning a pleased sigh from the model as he worked at her. The nervous energy that had claimed him before was now a dull sound in the back of his mind, the affection and warmth that Fleur was radiating doing well to ease his worries. “You're amazing, Fleur.” He said aloud, beckoning a blush from the mare as she raised her hand to move her bangs away from her eyes.
“I am only beginning to teach you, mon chere. Lie back. Allow me to show one way a mare gives her affection to her lover,.” She beckoned. Obeying, if reluctant to let go of her bountiful chest, Featherweight laid on his back again as the taller mare rose up on her hands and knees, placing herself beside him with her head facing his length. She cast her eyes on him and winked before lowering her muzzle down, the caress of hot air from her breath his only warning before her tongue shot out to caress his cock in a tender lick.
Lightning shot up from his member and through his being, electric pleasure from the intimate contact like a blast of magic into his mind. “Fleur!” He gasped out as she continued on, giving his rigid member continuous licks of her wet tongue, the erotic display captivating him as he watched the beauty attend to his length with such doting actions. She had to raise herself up slightly to meet his tip, towering before her muzzle. Her hands rubbed at his thighs, getting him to spread them as she rose her head to the tip before licking it in a slow swirling motion. When her lips clamped upon his sensitive tip, his hands gripped the bedsheets they laid on as she suckled on him, wet slick sounds of her lips moving the only other sound aside from his breathing.
He couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight of her going down on him, the backdrop of the room behind her doing little more than to emphasize the way her violet mane would weave back and forth to follow her motions. Every wet slurp was followed with a swipe of her tongue, every bob a blow against his hair-thin restraint on his climax. In the course of her sucking on him, his hand had found her head, running through her mane to lift it and keep it out of her way. From the way she smiled with his cock in her muzzle, the gesture was appreciated, and returned by her dipping down to his medial ring to suckle there as his tip poked at the back of her mouth, aiming for her throat. The wet grasp of her tongue and muzzle was incredible, a feeling that was emanating through his body and leaving him to do little more than throb in her mouth as he moaned onwards. She was too much for him, too experienced and amazing that it was a wonder he'd lasted this long.
The air left his lungs suddenly as Fleur inhaled through her nose before her head suddenly dipped further still, engulfing him to almost the base as his length rubbed her throat. She didn't gag in the slightest, a moan leaving her filled mouth to reach his ears. He was sure that most of him was within her grasp, his grip on her mane twitching. The throb of his heartbeat pounded as her tongue wormed its way around his base, wet and loving in each motion.
It was too much. Rapid gasps left Featherweight's mouth as his legs convulsed, control snapped in two as his climax thundered to life to blast down her waiting throat. But Fleur didn't sputter or stop; she took in every shot he had to offer, drinking his essence down with slow full gulps that beckoned for more.
Sliding past the peak of ecstasy she’d brought him to, the stallion laid in place, his muscles slackened from being tensed. Featherweight tried to regain his senses that had gone flying away while he'd been centered on the wetness and warmth she'd given him from her blowjob. The realization that he had climaxed without warning her tried to tug at his mind, but the words wouldn't come forward. Instead, he looked to her, watching as she sat back on her ankles, a delighted smile on her muzzle as she gazed at him.
“A liquid diet is important to keeping my figure, you know.” She teased as she licked her lips.
“Y-you were so good. I couldn't...I-I...” A twinge of shame crossed his features at climaxing so quick into the act, but before he could turn away, she was at his side, hand on his cheek to keep his eyes on her.
“High expectations aren't needed between us, mon chere.” She said as she laid there, drawing him in closer while her leg caressed his own, rubbing against it as she shifted it back and forth. “I savor giving you such pleasures. That carnal delight you felt is my utmost desire.” She added.
Featherweight nodded, leaning into her hand on his cheek as he closed his eyes. Just basking in that moment with her was wonderful in itself, the open air of affection between them inviting him to stay and savor every second she had to offer. He opened his eyes again and looked to her with a small smile, before letting his hand come up to grasp hers on his cheek. His thumb ran along the back of her hand as he held it, making Fleur smile wider before she sunk down to kiss him once more. There was a new taste on her lips, one he knew was his essence still staining her cheeks, but he kept going, pressing the taste aside to focus more on the enjoyment of kissing her again.
When she withdrew from his lips, he was left blushing and panting for air, still learning how to breathe when in so deep a kiss with the elegant mare. His eyes cast themselves downwards to the rest of her figure, centering on her flat, firm belly and the treasure that until now had been unseen. Without her hand to cover it, however, he had a plentiful vision of her pink folds that were now exposed. He could even make out the slightest of shine to their delicate petals, a shine he realized was her own liquid lust emanating from her depths. The realization made his crotch throb in desire before Fleur's voice brought him back.
“See something you like, Feather?”
Her playful lilt made him tear his eyes away back to her face, where she waited, grinning at his clear interest in her marehood. “I was...um. Would you like me to r-repay the kindness?” he offered to her.
Fleur's tail flicked behind her against the ruffled sheets of the bed as she grinned further. “Such a gentlecolt. But I want to hear you say it aloud, what you desire.” She insisted, leaning closer to kiss his ear, making him shiver as her voice ghosted its way through his hearing and into his very person. “Tell me what it is you want.”
“I-I wanted to, to g-go down on you.” He tried, making her giggle at his shaky admission.
“Go down where, mon chere? Be bold with me; tell me what you desire.”
“I-I want...” he trailed off, swallowing as she nibbled at his earlobe. “I want to taste your pussy.” The utterance of the word made his cheeks blaze red, yet there it was. Fleur sighed as she pulled back from his earlobe, giving it a departing lick before appearing in front of him again.
“So you wish to take a peek at moi's flower, oui?” she teased, getting a brief nod from the stallion.
“If that's ok with you?” he asked.
“It is more than ok, Featherweight. That is another lesson you know already: treating your bed partner equally.” She answered before pulling back off of him. As she moved to lay on her back, she was surprised when he spoke up again.
“W-wait.” Fleur paused, looking over her shoulder to him as she postured on her hands and knees, rear facing him. Her tail was flagged to the side, an instinctive act she showed no resistance to.
“Hm?”
“Could you...um.” He paused, thinking of how to phrase his thought. He had already taken this far of a leap, he reasoned with himself; why not go all the way with it? “If it's not too uncomfortable, could you...couldyousitonmyfaceinstead?”
Fleur smiled before giggling, Featherweight watching as she shifted to kneel beside him as he shifted further back onto the bed, only his feet off of the side edge now. “One more time, Feather?”
“...would you sit...on my face?” he said, making Fleur grin
“I can hardly deny such a request from such a kind partner. After all,” Fleur paused to move, crawling overtop Feather's laid back form before coming to rest her belly atop his, their difference in height working to let her position her rear end over his head while she could bend down and reach for his returning arousal if she so chose, “what stallion can resist zhis ass, no?”
Featherweight found himself in full agreement with the remark. Fleur's bare ass was hovering before his eyes, her legs spread to let her rest atop his torso while putting her goods on full display. The swell of those cheeks before his eyes enraptured him, hands twitching at his sides to grab for both and to sink his fingers into their plush fullness. As she lowered herself onto him, her tail batted at the top of his head, the waving motion both comforting and enticing as it fanned her scent out towards him all the more, a sweet aroma that made his mouth water. He could nary stop himself before leaning his head up, muzzle planting squarely into the crack of her ass as it surrounded him in softness. He was immersed in her scent, his first sniff a deep inhale that flooded him with the rich, exotic scent of her pussy and clean nether region all at once.
His hands followed right after, clasping onto her profound rear and burying his digits into the plump, warm cheeks to squeeze and feel as much of her as he could. His shy nature had been abandoned in his lust, desire burning too bright to be snuffed out by concerns of pacing. She was giving him so much that he didn't know where to begin. He could hear her mewling above him as he kneaded and toyed with her ass, the rich scent of her nethers fanning into him more as he nuzzled himself into her as best he could.
“Yes, mon chere! Explore me all you wish!” Fleur implored above him. His sudden enthusiasm was endearing to her, seeing as much as feeling his fire grow beneath her. Such an enthusiastic worshipping of her rear delighted and enticed the model, and she pressed back further to push her rear into him for his liking. A surprised squeal escaped her as a wet tongue made itself known, pressed against her left cheek before sliding and swirling down to cross her perineum. The sensation made her legs shiver as her yet to be touched pussy throbbed in want, making her wiggle her rump against his face moreso as he continued.
When his tongue did dart about and find its first taste of her wet folds, Featherweight's actions paused as he took in her unique flavor amidst the sweat and other senses crossing his mind. It took only a second to comprehend he wanted more of her, and shifted down to give his tongue more room to move. The appendage slipped its way up from beneath her to rub at the base of her pussy's flushed lips, making Fleur moan in earnest at the contact as much as feeling him breathing in her scent as his exhales ghosted across her skin.
“That's it, mon chere. Taste me. Drink up your lover, just like that!” She beckoned, looking down to watch as his tongue moved and wiggled at the base more before extending further to reach into her. His appendage penetrated her moist depths with ease, a shudder crossing Fleur's shoulders from the intimate contact. His tongue had an intent it seemed to caress every inch of her it could find, and combining that with the worship he was giving her ass through his hands and nuzzling was very much getting her riled up.
Desiring to get more of him into her, Fleur shifted her posture to arch her back more, pressing her rump outwards while bringing her marehood closer to his reaching tongue. The effect was instantaneous as he slid more of his tongue into her depths, making her gasp and moan atop him as he dug into her flower. One hand on his thigh stabilized her as she held her position, the other wholly occupied with groping her dangling breast, toying with her nipple as she rode out Featherweight's enthusiastic worshipping.
Round and round his tongue went within her, caressing every twitching fold as if to drink from her was to drink from an oasis, his utter need for her echoed in his motions. If he was having trouble breathing in his position, he was either too lost in lust to speak of it, or managing well enough that she needn't worry. What was more pressing to her was the rising energy building from her core, brought on by her newfound lover's actions. She could let go, she reasoned, and bask in the glow of a climax he certainly wished to bring her. But would that be satisfying enough for them both? To ask the question gave her her answer, and she tapped his thigh in an urgent fashion that snapped him from his actions, his head removing itself from the crack of her ass to be heard.
“Did I do something bad? Are you ok?” Featherweight asked her, panting for breath.
Fleur took a minute to breathe in slow and steady gasps; she hadn't realized how close she'd been to going over the edge with him down there. If he had found her now throbbing clitoris and managed to manipulate it the right way with that same fervor, she'd have lost control. Instead, she ignored the burning lust inside that pleaded to let him finish her off, her hand coming to rest on her abdomen before she looked over her shoulder at him.
“If anypony ever tries to tell you what you were doing is bad, Feather, zhey are either numb from the waist down or an imbecile.” She assured before reaching back with her free hand to caress his cheek. “No, instead, I wish to finish in another fashion. One you'll find much more to your liking, I feel.”
Featherweight gave a nod and released her rear as she turned about, her front facing him once more. His attention was drawn to where his hips and hers met, his stiff arousal back in full force as it rested against her crotch and belly. Her wet marehood was pressed against his base as she ground herself on him in a slow fashion, lubricating him with her own lust. Featherweight could feel it dripping down his length to his balls resting against the bedsheets, the taste of her still tingling in his mind. Comprehension of her words came to the forefront as his mind leapt to catch up with the moment unfolding before him.
The stallion looked up again from where his twitching pole was being caressed by Fleur's moist lips to her face, and found her gazing on him with an affection he'd only reserved for his most private of fantasies. His heart raced as he breathed in and out, trying to think of something romantic to say, something assuring to give to show he was ready.
Before any words could leave him, Fleur's hand came to his cheek and held him there, her whisper soft to his ears. “Breathe, Feather. Relax.” She instructed as she withheld moving against him, pausing their intimate moment as she comforted him. “I can feel your heartbeat, you know.”
“S-sorry.” he apologized, offering a sheepish smile at her. “It...this is...” he searched for how to describe it, to try and voice his desires through the garbled train of thought his hormones and nervousness were making. “...I want this, Fleur, I'm just...nervous.”
Fleur nodded and leaned down, kissing his lips as he laid back, her taller form draped over his with ease as she kept her pose above him. Their shifting let him rub at her entrance, her flushed lips eager for something to fill them.
“Do you trust me?” she asked him when she withdrew from his muzzle. Her mane tickled at his cheek as it fell about her and his faces, but his eyes were captivated by her violets peering down to him.
“Entirely.” He answered, knowing the truth in him despite the sea of nervousness it swam amongst.
Fleur smiled before kissing him once more, giving him a stronger, deeper liplock that he felt drawn into, which distracted him just enough until he felt a sudden wet heat engulf his tip. He gasped into her mouth, tongue freezing in place while she took him into her innermost depths bit by bit. She matched him with a surprised squeak as she was stretched by him. It was a gradual sensation, growing more and more in intensity as seconds passed. The heat was complimented by the almost velvet-like grasp her marehood had on him, embracing him from all sides as she sank down. Fleur herself let out a pleased sigh through her nose, continuing to flick her tongue inside his muzzle while he was awash in the newfound sensation of her pussy claiming him.
It took only a second or two for her to find a resting point two-thirds down, but time was gone from Featherweight's mind in that moment. His world was centered on the pleasure battering at his head from all sides, the intimate grasp of Fleur's marehood on him blasting away any set standards his imagination had constructed before. Nothing had ever felt like this before that he'd done on his own. He withdrew from Fleur and let loose a shuddering moan as she clenched around him, rocking in place in his lap as his hands clung at her hips, if only to try and brace himself as much as not lose control.
“How is your first marehood, Feather?” She questioned. “Is it as you-ah!-hoped it would be?”
“I-Its even better.” He admitted. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing throughout his being as he spoke. “It's because its you.” Featherweight licked his lips, and took a bold shot as he kissed her for once, giving the mare a surprise at his forwardness but delighting in his courage as she returned his affections. Assured of his comfort, Fleur's hips began to move again, rising slow and easy up off of his lap, exposing his now wet member as it left her depths only for her to sink herself back down, plunging him once more into her and coaxing a moan from them both as they made love.
“By the stars...you're filling me so much, Feather!” Fleur exclaimed. Her motions began to bring her further down still, his base her goal until she finally could claim all of him within her. It was a tight fit, the slight twinge of pain from the stretching blown away from the pleasure of his pole rubbing against depths she rarely could stimulate. Her nethers gripped him like a vice, remaining tight as she rode him.
Featherweight's whole world became centered upon the mare in his lap, pulling back from the kiss to take in the visage of beauty riding his length in slow but steady strokes. Fleur's long mane rose and fell with her motions, her hand flicking the mass over her shoulder as she bounced. Her breasts jiggled and shook in rhythm with her movements, bouncing before Featherweight's eyes while his ears were filled with the continuous slapping of flesh from Fleur's buttocks meeting his waist. She was sexual energy incarnate before him, and found himself drawn into giving her more of him that he could.
It took a few attempts on his part, the pleasure from Fleur's tight grip on his cock distracting as it was intoxicating to feel; but he found his chance when she rose up off of him, and he met her downward thrust by raising his hips, putting him even deeper into her. Fleur's surprised gasp was followed by a moan of elation as he kept it up, sweat crawling down his neck and arms as he put all he had into pleasing her.
“More, Feather! Give me more of your cock!” she cried out. Her hands left his sides and came to his shoulders, bracing her better as she rode him. The wet schlicks of his cock thrusting in and out weaved its way between their gasps for air as they continued. Featherweight's eyes left Fleur's visage to focus on her breasts, entranced by the jiggling mounds before him. He found himself drawn into them, and Fleur looked down to watch as he nuzzled his way between them, lips kissing at the sweaty fur of her cleavage while her breasts squeezed around his head. Fleur's cheeks turned a darker red from the affectionate yet arousing display, slowing her motions to a slow grind as her hand reached up and ran through his mane.
“That feels so good, Feather.” Fleur whispered in his ear. Her encouragement pushed him on, his wet tongue coming out to lick and explore her skin as she cooed atop him. With the position as it was, all Fleur had to do was square her shoulders and bring her arms together, further enveloping him in her bosom while he was immersed in her beauty. Clenching tight around his throbbing member within her, she could tell from experience he only needed a little more of a push. She was close herself, but the edge she needed to touch was just out of reach. “Do you know what would feel even better for moi?”
Featherweight's head shifted, and his eyes peered up at her from between her bosom as she gazed down to him. “Mm?” He replied, muffled by the titflesh surrounding him.
“Give me your hand, and moi will show you.” Fleur felt his hand raise off of her hip and meet hers at his shoulder, their fingers intertwining for a moment before she led him down between their sweat-covered torsos. Featherweight's eyes widened as he felt just how far down her form she was leading him, but let her continue until she shivered as their fingertips came into contact with the hot button that throbbed just from the contact. “There, mon amour. Right there.” She let go of his hand, trusting in him to explore her as carefully as he had been since they began.
Her instincts were right as she began to ride him again, slow and steady, but now with the added pleasure of his fingers rubbing against her clitoris. Each round his digit made around her nub only incensed her for more, pleasure rising with each pass. “When you climax, Feather, let it all out. Give it all to moi. Let your love flow freely into me!” She beckoned in his ear before nibbling on it, moaning as she felt him thrust upwards as they moved in sync with the other. The seconds felt extended to minutes as they carried on, yet it was heaven for the mare as her newfound partner made love to her. He grew adept at manipulating her love button enough to press on it with every downward motion she made, causing her to gasp faster and faster as the intensity rose.
He would crash through the final barrier first, before she did. With a strangled moan, Feather's resistances shattered to pieces as his twitching cock swelled within her, the flared tip pressed nearly to her cervix before hot strings of his seed splashed onto it, coating her innermost depths with his cum. The sudden surge of his essence into her finished Fleur off, making her walls contract around him as she kept him buried to the hilt within her. Her pussy milked his length for every drop he had to offer, her own juices flooding out from her depths to soak his crotch and hers in her juices. Fleur fell with the stallion when he collapsed backwards, both lying together on the bed in a sweaty but satisfied heap of pony, undisturbed by the way their juices were running down the other's thighs.
“That was...wonderful, mon chere.” Fleur breathed out as she gazed up to him from his chest. Her long mane fanned out across her shoulders and back, the pale magenta strands colorful against his light coat.
“You were perfect. You are perfect.” He answered back, sweat dripping down his brow as his arms encircled her back. She returned the gesture, nuzzling herself into his neck as she did. They stayed there together, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. It was Fleur who would break the silence.
“Will you stay with me?” she whispered to him.
“Yes.” His answer made her smile, and brought her up to share a kiss with him as they held one another tight.
Author's Note
L’amour est une belle chose, non?
This story was a true challenge to do. I might be ok at writing romance sometimes, but this one took a lot of work to finally shine. My editor, Cloperella, helped me to make this work. They challenged me to make this story be something that's a complete 180 from what I'm used to doing, and this was the end result.
I hope you enjoyed this story, and I thank you for taking the time to read it. I hope I did justice to Fleur de Lis and Featherweight as characters. Let me know what you think!
Feeling generous? Donate to my Ko-fi, which is linked here !
Without a crowd inside the room with him, Featherweight found the studio's spare photo shoot room less stuffy and more open to him. His decision to get to work from the get-go was something he inherited from his time in Ponyville, everypony there usually having a gung-ho attitude when it came to working, carts being pulled to and from town and workers carrying their tools to their destinations. It took some time to sink in when he left the office a couple days ago, but by the time he settled in for bed at home, it was final. He was going to work his dream job, with a mare of many a stallion's dreams no less.
He’d called her only once, the day before, to confirm that their plans for today were still in the clear. That call was brief, but her melodious voice agreeing with his idea still sat in his mind. Shaking his head, Featherweight placed his camera bag in a nearby chair and went to work on fixing the set left behind by the previous crew. Part of him wished they'd at least put away some of their equipment, but it couldn't be helped if they were tired by the time they were done. Some sessions, Feather learned, could go on for hours. Fortunately, today wouldn't demand much of their time or effort. his was Feather’s first professional assignment, so keeping it simple was the best way for the moment.By the time he'd managed to clear away some of the lights and chairs, the area was looking at least more organized than when he'd arrived.
The sound of heels clicking on the tile floor made him turn around, and his breath caught as Fleur entered the room. To him, Fleur was an shining example of beauty as she walked. Her summer ensemble was one he remembered her doing before in a shoot: a pair of cream colored pants that drew attention to her long legs that carried her, inviting a further look up at her buxom figure contained in a pinkish-rose camisole with white lace. Her mane was brushed and free to fall down her shoulders, leaving her face open to the world. He only barely registered the small team of ponies coming in behind her, more of his attention on the model while they went to the table against the wall to set up her makeup station.
“Fleur. Good to see you.” He managed to say when he brought his eyes back to hers. “I only got here a few minutes ago myself. The crew before us left things out, so I've been picking things up so we have room to work with.”
The mare smiled at him and nodded. “Not to worry, Feather. These ponies do have a tendency to leave a mess behind them, but it is little trouble for us. Today is our first shoot, so there is no need for anything complicated or difficult.” She assured him. “Tell me, how are you feeling? Are you ready to get to work?”
Featherweight nodded at the model before turning back to the light fixture he was trying to move. It was a grounded unit, meaning it was a bit heavier than he expected. “Yep, just...trying to get things situated.” He told her. The unit suddenly lifted up from the ground, making the stallion stumble before catching himself as the light moved to where he needed it. By the time Fleur's magical aura had left the fixture, he had straightened up. “Thank you.”
“Don't mention it.” Fleur assured, setting her own bag down in a nearby seat. “We work together, after all. Do you remember our plan for this shoot?”
Featherweight ran a hand through his hair, then dusted it off on his pants leg. “For Photo Finish's catalog, we were going with a focus of you and your successes under her tutelage.” Fleur gave a smile and nod before he continued. “So today's shoot would focus on showing you alongside some of the successes you've made while working with Photo Finish, like your perfume and clothing lines. So we won't need too detailed a set since the focus will be on you and those.”
“Very good. You've been paying attention to how these work, I can tell.” Fleur praised, making him smile at her. “I still remember one of my first shoots; the photographer came in with such a haphazard plan that even his staff were confused. It was like trying to draw water from stone with him.” She moved away to seat herself at a nearby table, with a vanity mirror and accompanying lights surrounding it. “I'll give myself a quick check-over while you finish fixing up the set, ok?” She turned and approached the table where makeup was waiting, seating herself in front of the vanity mirror while they went to work.
Featherweight nodded, refocusing on how he wanted to approach his task. The first setup would be her and her perfume line, which meant close-up shots of her and the product. A few minutes later and some more lifting had rewarded him with a comfortable seat for Fleur and a prop table placed at a height she could work with. The white backdrop was the standard for this, anything else would detract from the focus of the shoot. Feather took a step back and peered through his camera on the tripod a couple feet away.
“I think that'll do it.” He muttered. He had made use of more natural lighting in the room by doing away with the curtains to the windows and dimming the set's lights. The brightness from outside in conjunction with the white backdrop would be plenty of illumination for the model and her products for the time being. If the shoot took long enough though, he'd turn the lights on to compensate for adjustments.
He realized that the room was quieter than it should have been, as previous experience told him that makeup teams were anything but quiet. Looking over, he found the vanity table bare of anypony, confusing him before he heard a shuffling sound to his left. Turning, he saw the motion of a pale magenta streak by the privacy screen used for changing outfits before Fleur emerged from it. The mare's clothes she'd worn in, were now draped over the top of the screen, while she appeared in a much more extravagant dress. It was a slim, form fitting red piece, a light shade that made her white fur stand out where it didn't cover her. The dress reached her knees, a suitable fashion that kept attention to all of her and not just her long legs. Her mane was being brushed via her magic holding a brush by her head, finishing in time to let her sweep it back so her face could be seen clearly. She batted her eyelashes at Feather as he gazed at her.
“I am ready if you are, Feather.”
The youth had to swallow to find his voice. Her remark snapped him from his reverie, and he nodded. “R-right. Um...” he glanced at his setup, pushing down thoughts of how un-extravagant it appeared, before looking to her. “Ok. Take a seat there and let me know if it feels comfortable for you first.” He instructed. “Where did your team go?”
“I told them just the one round was needed for now. If I have need of them, I will call them back.” Fleur said and walked past him, heels clicking on the tiled floor as she passed him to go to her spot. He watched, the fluid gait she used a practiced one he imagined came from the constant passes of the catwalk she did for shows. Fleur turned, her long tail draping itself over the right armrest of the chair while her torso occupied the opposite side. The perfume bottle was placed on the table next to her, the label reading “Magnifique Mare” in bright gold lettering against the black bottle.
Feather moved to the camera tripod and turned it on, centering its focus upon the model and her product. Already, he was making adjustments in his mind for changing their setup, the next step to follow along in their shoot for today. With the crosshairs of the camera upon Fleur's face, he marveled at Fleur’s enchanting beauty, from the way her mane framed her face to how the light makeup she’d applied brought out her bright eyes.
“You look fabulous, Fleur. Tilt your head up just a little for me?” Snap, snap went the camera. “Move your hands down, please?” Snap. “Was this dress one of your making or from somepony else?” He asked as he started taking photos, the clicking sound filling the room.
“It was one from my own line, thank you. I have several more like it at home, but it felt fitting for this shoot.” She explained, smiling for several seconds as he took more shots. When Featherweight paused to move the tripod closer, she spoke again. “I did not expect that you would want my advice for what I should wear here, Feather. It is usually the decision of the photographer on what a mare might wear.”
Featherweight held his position as he zoomed in on Fleur's direction, the camera's vision capturing part of her muzzle and flowing mane while keeping the perfume in profile. As lovely as Fleur's face was, the emphasis was on the product and her. “True, it usually is. But I'd like to think I'm not as savvy on women's fashion as you are, Fleur. I'm not the one who walks the catwalk like she owns it.”
Fleur giggled, her smile becoming more relaxed as time went on. “So true.” She waited until he paused again to move, this time shifting to her right for another angle, before speaking again. “Feather?”
“Yes?” He stopped what he was doing and looked over the camera to the mare. “Is it too quiet? I can turn on the radio if you'd like.”
“No, no, it is not that. I had a question to ask you.” She explained. “Tell me; what drove you to become a photographer? What motivates you?”
It was a curious question to come from the model, but Featherweight indulged her while settling back in. “Well, I grew up in Ponyville. When I was younger, I always liked looking at photos of things, whether it was of other ponies, or of nature. Mom always let me have the newspaper in the morning when she was done reading through it. It was fun to see the pictures they'd take.” He explained. “I wound up actually working on the school news staff as their photographer, which was pretty fun.”
“So you started when you were just a colt. Impressive.” Fleur summarized.
Featherweight nodded. “Why do you ask?”
The model gave a smile, and brought her hands together to steeple her fingers while her delicate chin rested upon their bridge. “I wanted to learn more about the pony I am working with. It is not every day Photo Finish changes things up; it's different, and I like different.” Featherweight felt his cheeks color slightly, but carried on snapping pictures as Fleur spoke. “Tell me about Ponyville. I've heard so much from rumor and gossip, but I want to hear it from somepony's lips who has been there.”
“Well, what can I say about Ponyville...” Featherweight trailed off as he tried to find the right words to describe it to the model without coming across boring. “It's a unique place. A lot of ponies mistake it for just a country-town, but there’s more to it. I always found it to be somewhere you can never expect the next day to be the same as the last.” He looked over his camera to the model. “Lay on your front some.”
“True? Tell me more.” Fleur asked while following his instruction, causing Featherweight to shift again to center on her while she rested her torso on the chair. The model's chest was pressed up from the way the armchair sat against her, a fact that Feather tried not to focus too much on.
“Well, like, take the seasonal changes for instance. When the seasons change here in Canterlot, the only real difference that can be made out is the change in weather and in everypony's outfits.” He described. “But in Ponyville? It's a whole community effect when there's a change in the seasons. Farmers change their crops, vendors swap out their goods. Local events are themed for the season. It's like everypony wants to make the most of each day.” He paused to unhook the camera from the tripod, using the transition to free-motion shooting to keep talking.
“I tried to capture some of that in the profile I sent when I applied for the studio. One of my favorites was a shot from the treeline I got of the annual Running of the Leaves. It's a Fall event where everypony who wants to participate takes on a 5K run through some of the forest trails. It was based on this old story of how our ancestors used to run and stomp their feet to shake the leaves loose from the trees.” He explained, a smile crossing his muzzle. “It sounds kinda silly, saying it out loud.”
“I find it fascinating.” Fleur assured. She lifted a hand up and behind her to flick her mane back before letting it rest on the armrest she was propped on. “I have wanted to visit Ponyville when I have had the free time, but my schedule keeps meso busy, it is a rare chance if ever. Hearing such tales to me is wonderful.” Feather was surprised by her interest in his stories; most Canterlot-ians who asked about Ponyville were more keen to snub it as a country town than a refined culture center like Canterlot.
“I think you'd get a warm welcome there. You're a known model and celebrity everywhere, and Ponyville's no exception.” He assured her. “You would probably have to get a bodyguard or two just to have some space, though. There was always a crowd when Princess Twilight would go out in town for things.”
“Perhaps I should have you give me a tour sometime?”
The question made Featherweight pause, and he lowered the camera after snapping a shot to look at her with his own eyes and not the camera's.
“Really? You find it that interesting?”
Fleur nodded, and sat up from her position. Feather felt like giving her a small break anyway; he had snapped plenty of shots in this setup, and a change would be good. “Canterlot is a city I will always love for its uniqueness; it is something I've grown into myself. But there is always the appeal of seeing the rest of the world, and Ponyville is a curiosity to many who have not visited. I have only met with a select few who come from Ponyville, such as miss Rarity, and yourself of course.” Fleur stood to her feet, stretching her arms up. The act caused a delightful swell of her breasts that made Feather pause again before fixing his eyes on her face once more. “Shall I change outfits once more?”
“U-uh. Yeah, sure. We've got enough for this portion. I'll switch the set while you pick out your next outfit.” He answered, before she disappeared behind the curtain once more. Feather studied the set. This time, there'd be no furniture, and he could have her stand or perhaps pose on the ground with the bottle. A more direct approach than just posing next to the bottle felt better to him anyway.
He turned around to ask Fleur her opinion, but the question died in his throat as he looked at the curtain. Featherweight’s eyes locked onto the black, shapely form displayed across the curtain’s surface. The light of the sun from the adjacent window cast the dark outline of Fleur’s body onto the screen in front of her. Feather couldn’t see the mare herself, but the moving silhouette was a marvel to behold in itself. Her long arms rose above her head as she peeled off the dress she’d been wearing, before tossing it over the side of the curtain. Even from her shadow alone, it was obvious that Fleur was fully naked behind her protective drapes. Lowering her arms, Fleur gave a small stretch of her torso, turning to the right and left to loosen up from the poses she’d held earlier. The motions made the model’s bosom bounce as she twisted, the cantaloupe-sized mounds giving a jiggle before coming to a stop when she turned to her dress rack to her right.
Picking one from the line, Fleur lifted it up with her hands, only to drop the hanger by accident as she moved the dress off of its holdings. The shadow of the model slowly leaned forward and picked it up with her hands. While her hair fell over her face, her round, full cheeks stood out as she bent over, her tail shifting behind her from her movement. The cheeks of her derriere were massive, as big as melons, smooth and thick through and through . Standing upright again, the shapely silhouette lifted her dress up, and slipped it down over her elegant curves. Her arms pulled the fabric down over her back and to her waist. Her momentum ceased for a moment, as her hands tugged at the dress which seemed stuck over her substantial buttocks. Her lower body swayed from side to side, her hands carefully wriggling the fabric down over every inch of the wide obstacle. Once she’d finally overcome the endeavor below her waist, her tail lifted and waved as it slipped through the small, makeshift hole designed for it, giving a flick before settling again.
Cheeks burning, he tore himself away and stared just at the white backdrop. Photo Finish didn’t hire a drooling idiot to oggle one of the best models in the business; she hired a professional! “S-Say Fleur?” He called to her, not looking over his shoulder in fear of losing track again.
“Yes, Feather?”
“Uh...” Featherweight almost slapped himself just to get words to flow out of his mouth. “So what's it like being in Canterlot, for you? You said you love the city, but if I remember from your profile, you didn't grow up here, right?”
“That is correct.” Fleur answered, emerging from the curtain once more. This time, she appeared with a more refined look, her mane pulled back into a ponytail. The red dress had been swapped for a black number, the cloth cut to leave her shoulders bare and to expose the top of her chest.
“Canterlot was not my birthplace; that was overseas, a humble beginning for a mare like myself. It was Photo Finish who found me there and brought me to Canterlot in my late teens and started my career. I was only a teen model in those times, but I blossomed under her guidance and teachings.” Fleur said. “It seems such a long time ago now. I fear one day my age will catch up with me.”
“Nonsense. You look great, Fleur.” He insisted, making her giggle while he blushed at his outburst. “I-I mean, you already knew that. It's just that I think you always look great.”
“You haven't seen moi in the mornings then.” She countered, her smile reaching her eyes and making them sparkle. Featherweight found that expression more alive on her than when she was posing. He needed to keep that smile on her.
“Oh? Are the mornings tough on you?” he asked as she stood in front of him. When she didn't answer at first, he realized she was waiting on his instructions, looking around at the empty set since there was no furniture to sit upon. “Sorry, I wanted to try and bring more of the attention to you and the product. The furniture was a good start, but you can only do so much.” He explained. “Why don't we try a low-angle pose? Are you alright to lay on your side with the bottle in front of you?”
Fleur nodded, settling down and lying on her side on the floor. Without the furniture to interfere, her body was more at rest, her ponytail styled mane a cascade of color behind her head while her bright eyes stared into the camera. Pushing down any sort of blush, he focused on snapping pictures.
“I prefer to sleep in in the mornings when I can. I can rise early, but I need a coffee or two. Getting between a model and her coffee is like taunting a manticore; it never bodes well for you.” Fleur said, smiling once more. Featherweight snapped rapid shots of the expression, capturing her face and form with the bottle in perspective. Kneeling like he was, it kept her posed just how he was hoping for; the center of attention.
“This is looking grand, Fleur. You really are a natural for this.” Feather appraised as he continued snapping. “Thank you, by the way.”
Fleur's expression changed to one of curiosity, and Feather realized he had slipped up. “For what, Feather?”
The pegasus lowered his camera and gave her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Just...all this. I could only imagine ever getting to do a professional shoot like this, with a beautiful mare like you. I mean not two days ago, I was just an intern handing out for the crew. And now I'm here.” He kept talking despite the worryin the back of his mind fretting he was boring her. “It means a lot that you'd agree to work with me. I want to do right by you, Fleur.”
His cheeks colored as he took in the model's bright smile, the mare sitting up to kneel in front of him while she rested her rear on her tucked back feet. “It is good to know that you feel that way. A photographer and their model work best together when they agree and can bond. If you keep your distance, it leaves a mare feeling like she is merely an object for show.” Her hand came to rest on top of the perfume as she spoke, but her eyes remained on him. “I can tell you are not the kind of stallion to treat a mare that way. It is a mindset few can appreciate or have in this profession.”
Featherweight nodded and gave her a smile in return. “Can you tell me more about your history here? What was your first shoot like?”
Fleur smiled, before shifting position to rest on her hip and not her side, propping herself up on her arm while the other rested along the slope of her side and hips. It brought attention to the hourglass figure she was known for, making her appear in her element even more as they carried on. “My first photo shoot was actually done by Photo Finish herself, in her earlier years. When she first found me, her studio was still getting on its feet. Things were unorganized back then compared to now; a photo shoot would change direction if Photo felt even the slightest bit off or interested in something else.”
“She must've kept you very busy.” Featherweight noted. With the light changing as they had carried on, he adjusted his camera's settings to make use of the shift, the filter he applied giving more lighting to Fleur while they continued. “Did it ever feel overwhelming?”
“Truthfully, I had my worries at first. I was uncertain if this really was meant for me, or if my talents were best utilized in another field. But when I had my first big break, it became a natural part of me. Now we are intertwined.”
Feather mulled over his thoughts before speaking again. “Was that big break the one where you had the series of travel shots around Canterlot? The ones they still use today for the tourism ads?”
Fleur giggled and nodded. “I did not know I had such a fan in my photographer. Most have simply come to believe I did those only recently, and not so long ago.”
The stallion gave a sheepish chuckle. “Kinda hard to not be a fan, Fleur. I'd have to be blind to not see how great you are.” The praise slipped from his lips, and he chastised himself for babbling. “H-hey, I think I got enough here. How are you feeling?” He asked to keep her from noticing his praising.
“I am doing well enough. I am surprised; these shoots usually take so long, but you have made an hour pass in what feels like so little time.” Her remark made him look to the clock on the wall, and it surprised him to see she was right.
“Huh. Well, we've only gone through two of your outfits so far. Did you want to use anymore?” He asked her.
Fleur rose up to stand at his question. She brought a finger to her cheek in thought, leaving Featherweight to wait for her decision.
“We can try for a couple more; there was a blue dress I love wearing so much. If that's alright by you?” She asked him.
Feather nodded. “Sure, lets go for it!”
“Intriguing…” Photo Finish uttered the word while flipping through several of the photos Featherweight had taken in today’s shoot. She went back and forth between each pose Fleur was in, her lips in a thoughtful pout as she inspected them. It had been something she'd required as part of this experiment, seeing things “fresh from the fire” as she called it. It was little work on his part to go over what shots he felt captured Fleur best from their time together that day, having spanned another hour past their first break and encompassing a few more outfits of her choosing. It had been fun to spend that time with her. She left with a smile and a written note with her number on it, so he could contact her any time he needed about ideas or anything concerning her for the shoots.
“Fascinating!” He heard Photo whisper to herself as she scrutinized one of his first photos before shifting to another. “How long did zhis take you to complete, Feather?”
The pegasus thought before answering. “Well, the whole shoot took about two and a half hours, miss Finish. I made sure that we took a break to eat lunch and to let Fleur rest when she wanted to.”
“Did you use many cameras or just your own?” She asked.
“Just my own, ma'am. I didn't want to cause fuss and leave somepony without a camera to work with themselves.” He answered. “I used a tripod to stabilize the camera for some of the early shots, but I moved it aside when we wanted to change posture and positions. I intended to keep the focus on not just the product, but Fleur herself as well, since this is her own product she's posing for.”
Photo Finish nodded, and straightened up as she adjusted her shaded eyewear. “Featherweight, I think zhat this shows me-” Any further words were lost when the door behind Featherweight opened suddenly, making the pegasus look behind him in surprise. “We are in a meeting!” Photo Finish barked out, yet the would-be intruder was undeterred. Featherweight recognized him immediately as the photographer from before he got assigned with Fleur.
“Sorry, Madame Finish. I was just hoping to pop in for a minute.” Flare Shot replied, waving a hand in a placating fashion. The tall stallion was dressed in a casual outfit of khakis and a button up white shirt, suiting his orange coat color. A small rounded hat rested atop his head, hiding most of his red mane while the bangs peeked out from the rim. “One of the makeup team said Fleur’s newest session just finished up, and I was hoping to see-”
“Quiet!” Photo’s tone made Feather jump as the mare rose to her full height, her white eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to glare at the taller stallion through her glasses. “Zhis is my office, Flare. You do not barge in as if zhis studio is yours!”
“Right, right, I know.” Flare raised his hands, fanning them at Photo Finish. “I’m just wanting to see how our-your, number one model’s new project is going.” It was then that Flare noticed Feather’s presence, and raised an eyebrow before jerking his thumb at him. “What’s the kid doing here? He your new secretary or something?”
Photo Finish huffed through her nose. “Featherweight was zhe photographer for Fleur’s latest session. I am reviewing his work, and I do not take kindly to being interrupted!” She replied. “If you’ve business, you can wait outside until I am done!”
“Photo, babe, come on now. You’re coming off all wrong here.” Flare said as he took a step closer, plucking up one of the photos that had been laid out on Photo Finish’s desk. “I’m one of your senior photographers, been here for years. If anything, you should’ve asked me to offer some advice, help the newbie out.” Holding the photo up, Flare seemed to take his time to appreciate the picture before speaking again. “So what’d you do, kid? Take some shots and edit them for more lighting? It looks kinda bright.”
Featherweight swallowed before speaking up. Photo Finish didn’t look to be enjoying having Flare’s presence intruding on them, and he didn’t want to exacerbate her anger. “No, I just used a white backdrop. We did it around noon, so the sun provided the lighting.”
Flare hummed in thought before flicking the photo back onto the table, where it landed face down. “Smart thinking, for an amateur. You probably should’ve gone with having her use some other colors than just red or black, so her fur doesn’t shine too much.”
Featherweight glanced at the other untouched pictures before looking back at Flare. “I-I didn’t think they looked bad.” He answered. He wished his voice came out stronger than it did. The pegasus’ voice sounded more like a scolded child.
“Rookies don’t see their mistakes at first. That’s why they’re rookies. It takes some time to learn how this business works, what the public wants.” Flare said, shaking his head. He reached out and gave Feather’s shoulder a pat, making the youth flinch from the contact. “You’ll learn though. If you don’t, Fleur’s gonna be mighty disappointed in her new partner.”
“That is enough!” Photo exclaimed, coming out from behind her desk. Her movement drew Flare’s attention, allowing Feather to back away while Photo began pushing him out of her office. “You dare to come in, interrupt my meeting, harass my new photographer! I should fire you! Consider zhis mercy zhat I do not! Now get out, und stay out!” Photo declared before shutting the door in his face, locking it right after. She breathed in several harsh breaths before calming herself, walking back to her desk and seating herself once more.
“He is arrogant in his ways. Too firm, too unyielding. I hired him with the hopes zhat he would be great, and he has become great. But it is tempered with his brash behavior, and ruins zhe hopes I had for him. I worry he has forgotten zhe true magicks of zhis industry.” Photo Finish remarked before taking off her glasses and rubbing at them with her spare handkerchief. Her indigo eyes peered at Feather, who kept quiet as she continued. “He is too taken with zhe fame, zhe spotlight. He is not zhe one in zhe spotlight, merely its audience, its witness. He believes it iz he who deserves zhe spotlight and not zhe beauty he claims to capture. Our place as photographers iz to bask in zhe beauty of zhe world, not to be zhe beauty.”
She donned her glasses back on and adjusted the photos that had shifted on her desk, flipping back over the one that Flare had tossed away. The room stayed quiet, Feather having nothing to offer in reply to her remarks. He wasn’t sure if it was even his place to say anything, if he even could give anything to his defense. Flare’s words had tugged at his self-confidence, more than he cared to admit openly. Photo Finish brought him out of his thoughts as she broke the quiet.
“I need more of what you haf given me, Feazher. Und I vant zhem before zhe end of zhe week.” She instructed him, her accent coming out in full force. “Can you do zhat for me?”
“Y-yes, ma’am. Fleur has some meetings this week, but we’d planned for Friday when she’s available next.” Feather answered.
“Good. I will keep zhese for now, for further review. Go now, go onwards. Keep zhe magicks working and flowing. We must keep going!” She declared. Feather took this as his dismissal, and nodded before exiting the office and heading out of the studio. He didn’t catch sight of Flare Shot hanging around, something he was grateful for. The taller stallion’s remarks reminded him that he really was in the big leagues now; he couldn’t afford to make mistakes or slip-up if he wanted to make this work. He was working with a top-class model, and making a photo portfolio the whole world would see, and judge, and it could go south with just one bad photo.
He looked at himself in his bathroom mirror and tried to steel his mind to push out Flare's remarks. He couldn't afford to be distracted, he had to do his best for Fleur and Photo Finish, and himself. He couldn’t give any less than his best, and that was all there was to it.
