Evan

The Paragon Preparatory Academy for Timeless and Traditional Achievement, or PPATTA for short, boasted a grand art wing reserved for its finest students. This wide-open space, with high ceilings and skylights, was filled with the scent of oil paints, turpentine, and fine wood. The walls were adorned with the masterpieces of the Academy's aspiring artists. In the center stood a grand, marble pedestal, typically reserved for the live models who posed for the students. Now, shivering on the pedestal, was a barefoot, nude Evan, his semi-erect cock throbbing at the humiliation of being on display. He'd been forced there by Hamel, as part of a transaction between the latter with Professor Wyndham, in exchange for better grades. The professor, a middle-aged man with a brown mustache that had seen better days, sauntered into the room with a cane in hand, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His beady eyes gleamed as he looked over Evan's body, admiring the way his cock twitched and leaked precum, the head flushed a bright red. "Good morning, class," he announced in his irritable tone. "Today, you shall have a live model to practice your anatomy studies. This is Evan Grey, a student here at the Academy, who's graciously volunteered to help broaden your artistic skills." Evan's cheeks flushed a deep red as he stood there, his eyes scanning the room filled with curious, lust-filled gazes. They were all students, some his peers, and others his superiors. It was one thing to be Hamel's sex slave, but to be ogled by classmates was a new level of degradation. "Alright, boys," Professor Wyndham bellowed in his gravelly voice, turning to the assembled students, "no sketching until I've given the order. You will study his form, and only then, will you commit it to paper." The art class hummed with excitement, students openly staring at Evan's perfectly sculpted body, his freshly shaven pubes and the thick, veiny cock that was the centerpiece of his lustful display. Some even licked their lips, eager to capture the erotic nature of Evan's humiliation on their canvases. The professor approached Evan, his calloused fingers tracing the contours of his chiseled features. "Hold your arms out to the side, boy," he barked. Evan complied, his body rigid with embarrassment. "Now, arch your back." Slowly, Evan did as he was told, feeling the professor's fingertips trail over his nipples, causing them to stiffen. He bent over, holding his arms to the side, his ass in the air, a perfect canvas for both the students' eyes and their brushes. He could feel the stares of the class, as if they were feasting their eyes on a delectable meal. The professor's voice echoed through the room. "Begin!" The students began to sketch, their pencils moving rapidly across the pages, capturing every inch of Evan's humiliating display. Evan, his member half-mast, was forced to endure the occasional giggle and whispered comment about his own alluring form. Professor Wyndham moved around him, guiding him into various poses, his fingerprints leaving smudges of charcoal on Evan's porcelain skin. The professor stopped in front of the class. "Now, onto another pose." He smiled, unapologetically lecherous. Evan swallowed hard, his cock twitching at the thought of what the professor might demand. "On all fours."