The Academy boasts a grand art wing dedicated for its finest students. This wide-open space, with high ceilings and skylights, is filled with the scent of oil paints, turpentine, and fine wood. The walls are adorned with the masterpieces of the Academy's aspiring artists. In the center stands a grand, marble pedestal, typically reserved for the live models who posed for the students. Now, shivering on the pedestal, is a barefoot, nude Evan, his semi-erect cock throbbing at the humiliation of being on display.

He's 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 has seen better days, saunters into the room with a cane in hand, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His beady eyes gleams as he looked over Evan's body, admiring the way his cock twitches and leaks precum.

"Good morning, class," he announces 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 flush a deep red as he stands there, his eyes scanning the room filled with curious, lust-filled gazes. They are all students, some his peers, and others his superiors. It is one thing to be Hamel's sex slave, but to be ogled by classmates is a new level of degradation.

"Alright, boys," Professor Wyndham bellows 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 hums with excitement, students openly staring at Evan's perfectly sculpted body, his freshly shaven pubes and the thick, veiny cock that is the centerpiece of his lustful display. Some even lick their lips, eager to capture the erotic nature of Evan's humiliation on their canvases.

The professor approaches Evan, his calloused fingers tracing the contours of his chiseled features. "Hold your arms out to the side, boy," he barks. Evan complies, his body rigid with embarrassment. "Now, arch your back." Slowly, Evan does as he is told, feeling the professor's fingertips trail over his nipples, causing them to stiffen. He bends over, holding his arms to the side, his ass in the air, a perfect canvas for both the students' eyes and their brushes. He can feel the stares of the class, as if they were feasting their eyes on a delectable meal.

The professor's voice echoes through the room. "Begin!"

The students begin to sketch, their pencils moving rapidly across the pages, capturing every inch of Evan's humiliating display. Evan, his member half-mast, is forced to endure the occasional giggle and whispered comment about his own alluring form. Professor Wyndham moves around him, guiding him into various poses, his fingerprints leaving smudges of charcoal on Evan's porcelain skin.

The professor stops in front of the class. "Now, another pose." He smiles, unapologetically lecherous. Evan swallows hard, his cock twitching at the thought of what the professor might demand. "On all fours."