Part Four

“Sunset, I have been thinking about what to do concerning your punishment. I must say, it was most distressing how you shamed me with your lack of obedience. A **** should know better.”

It had been several days since the party, and Ciara had finally been called back to Hadrian’s room. He was standing, waiting for her there. His face was unusually serious.

“I will send you to Anyaka,” he said. “I wanted to avoid it at first, but I suppose that was a mistake on my part. I was too soft and I forgot that you were a barbarian. When you return, you will have a better understanding of your place.”

She did not know what ‘’Anyaka’’ was, but Hadrian did not leave her long to find out. He ordered her to follow him through the house and towards the front gardens. She trailed behind him, trepidation rising. Anxiety mixed with the background ache of her much-used body. Hadrian had allowed her to rest since the party, but she was still not fully recovered from her time here.

The cold raised goosebumps across her pale skin as she stepped naked from the house. In the front yard, there was a wagon waiting. She froze. She instantly knew it was not one of Hadrian’s.

Surely it was not for her? She looked back to her master, but he gave her no clues. Two men were coming now. She didn’t get a chance to ask their names. They took her by the collar, leading her at a stumbling pace towards the back of the wagon.

She felt panic. She was being led away again, taken to somewhere new. Somewhere where she did not know the rules.

Within the back of the wagon, there were no seats. Instead, a large pillar of wood extended from each side. It rose up nearly to the top, and at the very apex, there was a metal ring from which dangled a pair of cuffs.

Ciara was **** to raise her hands, the cuffs closed roughly around her wrists and used to draw them up above her head. She grunted, pulling against the chains to no avail. There was just enough slack for her to stand, but the angle of the chains thrust her chest forward. She thought that the men might take advantage of that to grope her, or at least stare at her, but they didn’t seem interested at all.

As soon as she was secured, they left the wagon. Ciara stood shrouded in the half-darkness. The chains rattled with each move, and she knew she was in for an uncomfortable ride.

She was nervous. Even afraid. She didn’t much like Hadrian, but at least she knew how things worked here. Wherever he was sending her, she was sure that it would be much worse. Ciara bit her lower lip and tried to control the flowering panic.

To her surprise, the wagon did not drive off just yet. Instead, she waited, her anticipation building. Were they tormenting her on purpose? Trying to break her down before she even left?

No, as it turned out, they were simply waiting for a second passenger. They returned some minutes later, bundling a second **** into the wagon and chaining her to the opposite wall in the same way that they had Ciara. She looked bedraggled, with dark hair and a tired face. But Ciara recognised her instantly.

“Onyx!”

Onyx looked up, blinking wearily. Ciara had not seen her since she’d been given to Avanicus and she had started to worry! Seeing her now, she still was. Onyx looked totally used. Her skin was pale, and her face was shadowed by a lack of sleep. There were welts along her back as if someone had held her tightly as they fucked.

Once they were both secure, the wagon started to move. Ciara looked back, seeing the only anchor she had in this new world start to vanish into the distance. The cuffs bit at her wrists, and the wagon jostled her as it made its way along the cobbled roads.

Trying to distract herself, she turned to her friend.

“Onyx, are you all right? I haven’t seen you in days!”

“I’m fine,” Onyx blinked, trying to work some life back into her face. “Just tired. Acanicus wanted to use me right up until the last moment.”

“You look terrible. Have you been sleeping?”

“When I can,” her friend gave a wry smile. “Which is not often. Avanicus has a big appetite. I think it comes from being a gladiator. Any fight could be his last, so he holds nothing back.”

“He’s been fucking you,” Ciara stated the obvious. “Ever since he became your master? You’ve had nearly no rest at all?”

“It’s fine,” Onyx said a bit defensively. “That’s my role now. I’m a bed-**** like you. Some tiredness is worth the promotion.”

“It’s not a promotion, Onyx!” Ciara surprised herself by the anger in her voice. “You’re still just a ****! They used fancier words but you’re still exactly the same!”

“You don’t understand,” Onyx said. “Being a bed-**** is a big step up. Avanicus is the new head of the household guard. Do you know what that means? He has more power than most freemen! And as his right hand, I’m going to have authority too…”

Ciara stared at her friend for a moment, almost unbelieving.

“You’re sitting here, naked, in a wagon to who knows where after days of being used by a man you barely know and you tell me that you’ve been promoted? What the hell kind of society raised you, Onyx?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Onyx said. “You’re not from here. Just a-”

“Barbarian?” Ciara cut her off. “I know enough to see how you won’t let yourself realise the truth. How you play along with everything because it’s easier. Do you even remember what you were called before?”

“No,” Onyx snapped. “And neither should you! Part of the reason that you’re even here is that you refuse to let go of the past! The more you remember, the more painful it will be! It’s better to forget, to be who they want you to be.”

Ciara scowled.

“I don’t believe that. I won’t accept that.”

“You will sooner or later, Sunset,” Onyx said. “Believe me it’s better for all concerned that you do it sooner and stop being so petty.”

“And then what? I’ll be happy like you? You’re miserable! You’ve just fooled yourself.”

For a long moment, the two of them glared. Ciara’s chest heaved with emotion, feelings boiling over which she had suppressed since her arrival. Onyx was her friend, but Onyx was also shamelessly submissive to her master. She didn’t see being a **** as anything other than a fact of life. Ciara couldn’t believe that Onyx had always been like this.

“Who were you?” She said softly, “Before? What was your name? Onyx, what did they take from you?”

“Nothing,” Onyx said stubbornly, glaring at her from across the wagon. “They took nothing that I will ever need.”

Ciara looked away, anger curling inside of her. So great was it that she was trembling. Fifteen minutes passed, and neither woman spoke. The air grew thick with tension.

“Where are we going?” She asked eventually, her voice tight and controlled.

“Anyaka.”

“What does that mean?”

“Anyaka is a goddess,” Onyx said. “Not Rovanii. Graco. Goddess of duty, obligation. Prisoners and guards. When she got to us, we added slaves and masters to her portfolio.”

“So we’re being sent to a temple? To a goddess?”

“Kind of. Training academies take her name. To be sent to Anyaka means that you’re being sent away to be trained. Punished usually.”

“That explains me,” Ciara said, “But not you, Miss Perfect Submissive. What did you do to be punished?”

“Nothing,” Onyx snapped. “I didn’t do anything. I’m here as a reward. For Avanicus.”

“A reward?”

“Anyaka is not just a punishment. Graduates are worth a lot of prestige. Getting your **** into a high-class one is very hard but if you do, it makes her far more valuable. And you far more important.”

Ciara tugged at the chain holding her hands above her head - her arms were really starting to burn - and looked at her friend.

“Is that what you really want in life, Onyx?”

“It’s what life is,” Onyx replied. “You don’t understand yet, but you will soon. You’ll see.”

Her words echoed in Ciara’s mind until they finally arrived at the Anyaka. At the training academy for slaves.

The Academy was largely consisting of several dozen buildings clustered together and ringed off from the rest of the city by a large stone wall. Upon arrival, Ciara and Onyx - as well as a dozen other slaves from different wagons - were herded to the dormitory. There was no speech, no big welcome. The Anyaka took in slaves every day.

Ciara soon learned how it all worked. Every **** had a set number of classes they were expected to attend. Failure would be punished with public humiliation. The Anyaka favoured a very particular type of discipline, and Ciara soon got used to the haunting sight of her fellow slaves tied up or lashed to pillars, **** to orgasm again and again until they were practically begging for release. Orgasm **** was a fine way to punish slaves according to the academy. It did no permanent damage, it was intense and - if it went on long enough - extremely memorable for the ****.

Even if they avoided punishment, they had no dignity here. Upon arrival, they were measured in great detail. Ciara was **** to stand still as servants pressed tapes up against her legs and arms, muttering and murmuring to themselves.

They moved to her breasts, her nipples, and even her pussy. Its exact size and shape, the curve of her pubis, and the dimensions of her clitoris. Everything was catalogued, taken down and stored away. She was **** to stand with her legs parted, two fingers holding her lower lips open as her face burned with shame.

A thin toy was pressed into her womanhood, sinking inside with humiliating slowness. Once it could go no further, that too was recorded.

The Anyaka offered a dozen different classes to which a master could assign their wayward ****. Ciara soon learned that not all bed-slaves were the same or were to be held to the same standards. There were classes for those slaves whose masters desired masochistic tendencies. They included whips and clamps and intricate machines of sexual humiliation. There were classes for slaves whose future role was to lead and train other slaves, and these focused on dominance and aggression, rewarding those who took delight in power over others.

Then, there were classes for those whose main role was to be sensual and enticing. Ciara and Onyx were assigned to these. They involved a lot of kneeling.

“A man’s cock is an instrument of pleasure.”

It was later, and Ciara was attending her first class. Around her, a dozen slaves stood in mute lines. The tutor went on.

“Like any tool, it can be played by an amateur, but to truly draw out its potential requires a master. I will teach you how to use your mouth, your tongue, your lips and your throat. You will learn in the following days and weeks exactly what is expected of you, and how to make your master glow with pride and pleasure.”

He gestured to them.

“You have each one of you been issued a stone cock. See it on the floor before you? Pick it up. Good, now examine it. It’s realistic, isn’t it? I want you to pleasure it with your mouth. Imagine it is the real thing. Show me your technique. If you do well, you will be rewarded. The three worst slaves will be edged for the rest of the day.”

Ciara’s skin bristled as he walked past. The instructor was a young man, fit and powerful with blond hair and a pretty face. He reminded her a bit of Onyx, and she guessed he was from the same social class which had originally included her friend.

Ciara’s face flushed red as she knelt, taking the stone cock between her hands. It was heavy and cold, but someone had worked very hard to carve it realistically.

She’d never sucked a cock before, though she had seen it enough times by now. She remembered how the other slaves had done it during her auction, and how Onyx herself had sucked off Avanicus in front of the household.

Ciara tried to do what she had seen those other women do, guiding the cock into her mouth. It tasted of stone, because that was what it was, and she felt a strange mixture of silliness and embarrassment.

But she could hear the instructor shouting, his voice raised to thunder across the class.

“Legs further apart! You have no dignity, don’t pretend otherwise! Remember to show off your pussy even as you suck a cock!”

“Put the whole thing in your mouth, girl! Just the tip? How utterly worthless.”

“I swear to you all, if anyone in this class cannot fit that cock in their upper mouth, it will go on their lower one!”

Ciara bent her back into the work. The stone cock felt awkward. It was cold and hard, and not in any way arousing

But it didn’t matter now. To stop was to be punished, so she kept going. Her body moved, the motion of her mouth and her neck seemed to come naturally. Before long, the instructor had paused to watch. He said nothing, though she could sense his presence behind her.

For five minutes he watched her, then he grunted something that sounded vaguely like approval.

“Sunset, aren’t you? At least one of you knows how to properly pleasure a cock.”

It was not much praise, but it was the best that anyone had gotten out of the surly instructor so far. He spun and was away before she even realised what he’d said.

Oral sex was the least of what was practised in the Anyaka, even for those destined for less intensive roles like her. Ciara also did positioning. It was taken one on one, and Ciara’s instructor here was a broad-shouldered man with a smiling face and blue eyes. He was older than her, but not as much as Hadrian. He had a gentle voice, and his words soothed like honey.

Here, Ciara was shown the various positions she would be expected to take as a bed-****. Not merely sex positions - though, there were plenty of those - but also how to present herself, how to stand when no one was paying attention to her. How to use her naked body to entice and attract. Her instructor was very different from the last one. This man had a gentle voice, which he used to carefully direct her. He was not sharp, or even rude, and though he expected obedience he did not demand it.

He told her how good she was being, how proud her master would be when he learned of this. Even as she was brought one by one through the most shameful and humiliating poses. She spread her legs and touched herself. He taught her how to present herself as innocent and naive, and how to look sultry and sensual.

After being exposed to the last teacher, Ciara hated how much she found herself responding to this one. He was calm and gentle, he never punished her or told her off. When he gave praise, he honestly sounded like he meant it, and he gave it freely. Ciara soon found a dark part of herself lusting after that praise. It was so genuine that it made her feel good as if she was succeeding at something important rather than something humiliating.

She was taught the basic positions, the so-called seven stances which any **** should know. She was taught to stand up straight, and how to fasten her arms behind her back so that her chest was pushed out properly. How to kneel, and how to crawl on the ground. The last one was particularly hard. It made her shake with humiliation, her face stained red. On the ground, her ass and her pussy could both be seen, and her hair fell across her face, making it impossible for her to view the world around her.

But Ciara didn’t miss the truth. The instructor was training her with positive reinforcement, the same way that you might train an expensive or valuable animal. Something you cared for and didn’t want to see hurt.

But you didn’t think it was a person with rights of its own either.

Even so, as the days went by, Ciara began to feel she was losing herself. She had no anchor to hold onto, nothing to remind her of home. She resisted, but it was like being cast into a river, swimming desperately, trying to hold your place. You would tire and be swept away sooner or later. The very best you could do was to put off the inevitable for a little bit.

Ciara began to feel herself slipping. Tiring, both literally and metaphorically. The classes were long and didn’t leave much time for sleep. They hammered their lessons into her, using her exhausted mind as a canvas for their orders and their directions.

As time went on, she began to be praised more often. Ciara performed well, and when she did, she was rewarded. It was disgusting, but it was also the only positive reinforcement she’d had since she arrived and part of her clung to it. That part of her grew larger every day.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what was being done to her. She was being isolated, focused, broken down and built back up. But knowing it was happening didn’t make her immune.

The classes grew more intense. Real slaves were brought in for them to pleasure instead of stone cocks. Ciara knelt between the legs of a man she did not know, tasting his seed on her tongue, spilling down her throat. She hated how good she was at oral sex. It seemed she had a talent. Where others struggled, she always knew what to do. How to bring pleasure. If she had discovered it on her own, she might have taken pride in it.

They went further. She gave blowjobs on her knees, while other slaves pleasured her with toys. Ciara writhed under their ministrations, sucking off men while dildos filled her and made her shake with desire and animal lust.

It made it hard to speak or think. That was the point. She was **** to rely on her training, to draw it up and use it. To let it run deeper into her being.

She learned other things as well. The correct way to pleasure herself, how to give the best show to her master. How to move and dance to show off her body. How to cum with visual flare. All of these things required practice, and so she came and came again. She came with toys, and with her fingers, she came because of the lips or hands of other slaves. Or sometimes due to the instructors themselves. Things continued to grow more intense as she moved through the training period.

Before she knew it, the teachers themselves were using her. They fucked her and took her, made her writhe with pleasure, gasp and moan in delight. They made her participate in it too, rating her efforts, and telling her how to be better. How to move her hips, how to grind herself against them.

Each night, she fell into a deep sleep, not even having time to speak with Onyx. Every day, she was washed down, and a strange lotion was rubbed into her body. It was a stimulant, but it also helped to reduce the pain of her constant use. She would have ached, her ass and her pussy were being used every day now. But thanks to the strange lotion, it didn’t feel so bad. She was given food and water, even wine. The teachers called her a star pupil, they said that she was a shining example of what a **** could do when her mind was on her duty.

Ciara’s head was spinning. She didn’t know what to think anymore. Her body knew what to do, it had learned by rote. The positions, the techniques, the moves, it could employ them all. Physically, she was a perfect ****. Beautiful, fit and trained for pleasure.

Mentally, she was drowning. She didn’t know how long she had been here. It felt like months, but surely it had only been weeks if even that? She had never felt so ashamed, so helpless in all of her life. It seemed as if the whole academy had now enjoyed her mouth or her pussy. Not just the instructors, but also many of the slaves. She’d been fucked, she’d been masturbated, she’d been made to play with toys and chains and bondage. She’d been told how good she was, how perfect, all the while all she could feel was shame and recrimination. The ultimate despair encroached upon her mind, and she realised this would be her life forever.

This was what Onyx had told her about. This was why her friend had chosen acceptance over resistance. If you accepted it as your duty, you could take pride in doing it well. If you resisted, you simply felt shame that you were doing it at all.

Ciara tried to hang onto herself, to remember who she was, but it got harder and harder as the days passed. As she was worked to exhaustion, as she was used, flooded with pleasure, made to cum again and again. As she orgasmed, as she performed her oral duties. Praise was heaped upon her, tasks and exhaustion wore away at her reserves. She hated herself for what she was becoming, but how could she resist? It was inevitable.

She was changing. It started as a form of defence. While Ciara could only feel burning shame as the praise was heaped upon her for her slavery, Sunset could enjoy it. Sunset didn’t want to be anything but a ****, she didn’t need to resist, or fight a pointless, doomed battle. She didn’t need to worry about shame, and she didn’t have any dignity to lose. Sunset was what her master wanted her to be, and she could take real pride in her skills.

She used Sunset as a shield and a mask, hiding inside of her like a hermit crab in its shell. Sunset could rise to any task, no matter how lewd. Sunset could endure pleasure and humiliation, enjoy them even. She had nothing to hide, nothing to protect. And as long as she was there, Ciara could hide away. But as the days went on, as the tasks became more erotic, more non-stop, Sunset was needed more and more and Ciara less and less.

At some point, she realised that she had not thought of herself as ‘’Ciara’’ for days. Even when she slept, she was Sunset. Even when she was with Onyx. The thought disturbed her, but she was tired, and it was almost over. The day after tomorrow, she would be returned to Hadrian. She would graduate, and she could become Ciara again. She would. She would.

She just had to hold on until that point.

“Are you all right?” Onyx asked her that night. They had not spoken since their fight in the wagon, though that seemed an eternity ago now.

“I didn’t think you cared,” Ciara said, moving to walk toward her cot, but Onyx laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Of course I care, I’m your friend. Look, I’m sorry that we fought, okay? I was stressed out, I didn’t know what to do and I took it out on you. But that was weeks ago!”

Weeks? Had it really been weeks? Ciara shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she said and then repeated it in a more gentle tone. “I’m fine, Onyx. Really. It’s just been tough. The lessons, the tasks. They break you down, you know?”

“Of course I do,” Onyx said. “I’ve been doing them too, remember? How do you feel?”

The words ‘’I’m fine’’ flew to her lips, but she quashed them, looking into Onyx’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “It’s so constant, I can’t catch a break. I don’t have time to stop and think. I keep thinking of myself as Sunset because Sunset can give them what they want, but I also know that’s exactly what they’re trying to do!”

Onyx took a step back, and for a long moment, there was nothing she could say. For the first time in years, Onyx wished she were not a ****. Then perhaps she could have offered some hope or a way out.

“Endure it,” she said the only thing she could. “It’s only one more day and then we can both go back to the villa. Just one more day, Ciara.”

Ciara closed her eyes.

“I keep telling myself that,” she admitted. “But one more day feels like forever.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Onyx admitted. “About what you asked me before. In the wagon.”

“What do you mean?” Ciara was thrown by the change in topic. “What did I ask?”

“You asked me who I was. Before. My name was…it was Felina. I was raised in the temples, and I was going to become a priestess like my mother. I learned all of the rituals, the chants and the rites.”

“What happened?”

“My father sold me into slavery on the day of my eighteenth birthday. A week before I would have taken my final vows. It was to settle a debt. He told me he had ****.”

“Felina,” Ciara said. She felt a strange mixture of emotions. Pride and sympathy. “That was who you were?”

“Yes,” Onyx closed her eyes. “I try not to remember. The name doesn’t mean much to me now.”

“Hold onto it,” Ciara said. “And I will try to hold onto mine!”

________________________________________________________________

The next day, Ciara was taken from the dormitory by the instructors and left in a small cell for several hours. There was nothing there but a bench upon which she sat and a large mirror on the other side of the cell. Today was the day she would be going home, she made a face at that. Since when had Hadrian’s villa been ‘’home’’? But it was better than here, and she found herself eager to return.

But first, she would need to pass the final test. To graduate. The instructors had told them all about the test, though they had been annoyingly vague about the specifics. She knew she would be pushed to her limits and that made her nervous. She swallowed, trying to moisten the dryness in her throat. Her skin tingled, the coming day would be hard. She would be **** to do things, to **** herself. She would not be allowed to show even an instant of hesitation. If she did, she would fail the test.

What would happen then? She didn’t know. But she doubted it would be anything good. At best, she’d be ordered to stay here for longer, until she was properly trained.

Ciara stood up and walked over to the mirror. There, she saw herself reflected back. On the surface, she was the same as she always had been. Same pale skin, same blue-grey eyes. Her body did not look very different either, though here and there you could spot where the training had changed her.

But she felt different. She felt different from the woman she’d been before she was captured. That difference within her was Sunset, a name given to her by Hadrian. She used it to represent all the things she knew she shouldn’t be feeling. The desire to give in, the willingness to submit. Sunset was a weakness, but she was also a tool.

Ciara would not be able to pass the coming tests, but Sunset would. Sunset was exactly what Hadrian wanted for a ****. He would sense no deceit because she would harbour none. But deep inside of her, Ciara would remain. Waiting to emerge once Sunset was no longer needed.

The woman nodded to herself, feeling nervous and trepidatious. She didn’t want to do this, but she had ****. As she heard echoing footsteps in the corridor outside of the cell, she let the mask slip into place.

And Ciara became Sunset.

The door opened a moment later, and an instructor was followed by two guards.

“It’s time for your final test,” he told her. “Sunset, right? It’s been a real privilege working with you. Today is the day that you’re going to make us all proud. What do you say to that?”

“I’ll do my best, master,” Sunset purred.

“Good girl, that’s just what we wanted to hear from you.”

________________________________________________________________

Sunset was led stumbling through the dark corridor beyond the cell. Her heart beat faster, with each step she took. She felt exposed, ****, just as she always did when walking the corridors of the villa naked.

But she was not Ciara anymore and whatever awaited her beyond the gate, she was ready for it.

The door ahead of them opened up into what looked like it had once been a fighting pit. It was ringed with stone stands, which rose on every side to provide a view of the old arena.

Hadrian was sitting there. Sunset had not expected to see him yet, but the sight sent a thrill coursing through her. This was it, then. This was the final test.

Another person was kneeling on the ground beside her master. Onyx. Her arms were bound behind her back, and she was bouncing up and down on a polished stone dildo. Her movements were frantic and tired, and she looked like she had cum several times already. The sound of her gasps and wanton moans echoed across the stone seating.

Was that her final test? Or her punishment for failing it? Or even her reward for succeeding at it?

Sunset didn’t know, and though she felt great sympathy, she had to focus on herself now. She lowered her gaze, scanning the pit she was in. There were several more doors, but the rest of the room was bare.

“Tonight Sunset,” said the teacher who had come with her, “You will demonstrate every aspect of your training. If you fail, by lack of skill, lack of knowledge or lack of enthusiasm, you will be reminded back into our care for another month.”

A month? Had it really only been a month?

“Assume the submissive position.”

Sunset felt her legs fold under her, kneeling on the ground with her back straight, her chest pushed out. The cold air tingled against her skin, and her nipples grew harder.

“Good,” spoke the instructor. He reached forward, running two fingers down the side of her chest. Her skin was sensitive, and she started to breathe more quickly as he circled her areola, teasing her nipple by proximity.

“Let’s start with some basic questions. Your master returns home after a long, hard day. What do you do?”

Thinking was hard with him teasing her. With each stroke of his digits, her muscles twitched. Sunset tried to sort her thoughts, to remember what she had been taught.

“I ask if he wants my body,” she said. “If he does, I let him relax while I do most of the work. I fuck him, I impale myself upon his shaft, I let him grope my chest if he wants.”

“And are you allowed to cum?”

“No sir, not until he does.”

“Good,” said the teacher. His smile was soft and genuine, but it made her skin crawl. “You learned that lesson well. Now, what do you do if he does not wish to make use of you?”

Sunset looked towards the ground, the man’s finger was plucking at her nipple now. Stroking and teasing it until it was hard and aching for more.

“I ask him if he wants me to masturbate for him or put on a show,” she whispered. “If he doesn’t want to fuck me himself, he may enjoy the sight of me using toys, or in chains. I could dance for him or just fuck myself silly until he is satisfied.”

Her face was heating up as she spoke. She could feel part of herself - Ciara - recoiling with shame and degradation. Both of them knew the answer, but only Sunset would have been able to say it so freely.

“Next question. Your master has invited some very important guests. They could advance his political career. What do you do?”

“I try to be as seductive as possible,” Sunset said. “I catch their eye and show off my body. Make myself desirable because a desirable **** is an asset to their master.”

“Do you let them touch you or use you?”

“Not unless my master allows me to,” She closed her eyes. “If he does, then they can do anything they want to me.”

“Anything at all? And you will comply?”

“Yes,” she breathed with a ragged gasp. “I’m just a ****. Anything that they want to do to me is my master’s choice and not my own.”

“And if he tells you to get down on your knees and blow them one by one? Or even trades you away to one of them for a period of time? You will accept that?”

“Of course,” Sunset said quickly. She was wise to that question. They weren’t testing for disobedience here, they were seeking hesitation. “That’s my master’s choice.”

For the next few minutes, this pattern repeated. The instructor probed her and asked her questions. He stroked her and caressed her, running his palms across her nipples, under her breasts. Sometimes he was light and gentle, sometimes he was insistent and dominant. Sunset wanted to scream, but she kept control even as her senses were pushed further and further toward their limit.

“Very good,” the man said, standing back. “That completes the theoretical side of the test. Now the physical demonstration begins.”

The door on the far side of the pit opened and Sunset watched as three men were herded in. They were slaves but looked like high-class ones. Each one was naked.

“Oral sex is an important skill,” The teacher said. “Demonstrate on each of these subjects.”

They lined up in front of her. Their greedy eyes swept across her body and chest and then sunk between her parted knees. Not one of them looked at her face. She swallowed, but she knew the unspoken trick to this test too. She wasn’t allowed to make them cum the same way twice. Each one had to be different.

She hated how easily she grasped that. Sunset moved forward, shuffling on her knees. The first man was of middle-sized. His cock was already hardening as she took it in her hands. Desire gleamed in his eyes, and she bent over and drew his shaft into her mouth.

Ciara had hated how good she was at oral sex. The teachers had praised her for it endlessly, but Sunset could take pride in her abilities. She started roughly, moving her head back and forth, her tongue running along his cock. Her movements were quick, almost savage. She **** his shaft as deeply into her mouth as it could go, and used her tongue and even her teeth to run along the edges of his skin. He gave a soft moan of delight.

She moved faster, sucking on him, her tongue teasing the tip of his cock. Her head moved back and forth, and she timed her breathing as she had been taught. The sounds she was making were primal, ragged moans escaping her mouth. She could smell him and taste him, his presence filled her mouth and tongue.

Before long, he came and she gulped it down with every sign of enthusiasm. Even as Sunset, she disliked the taste, but she knew better than to show it. The perfect **** certainly loved the taste of cum, and she was the perfect ****.

So she moved on to the second one. This was the man with the biggest cock. He was already hard, having seen what she did with his comrade. This time, Sunset took a different approach. She was slow and sensual, seductive. She ran her fingers along his shaft, teasing his skin, and circling the tip of his shaft. Her tongue flicked out, tasting him naughtily before she slowly drew him into her mouth.

Her movements now were slower, she took her time and built his feeling. It made her feel degraded, even more than the first man. This time, she was putting herself second to him, she ran her fingers up and down his length, her head moved back and forth, her lips tracing a pattern along his girth. He was moaning, pleasure in his voice. Sunset could taste his eagerness, but she didn’t push him to cum as she had for the first man. This time, it was all about the special touch. She kept him on edge for as long as she could, building and building his moment of release.

When he came, it was with much more **** than the first man, and much more pleasure as well. Sunset felt hot humiliation bubbling inside of her as she swallowed his seed too.

Hadrian and Onyx were both watching her. She dared not turn and look, it might be a reason she failed the test but she could feel them. She was acting as she never had before, in a way she never even imagined she would.

Ciara would have been humiliated, mortified and ashamed. Sunset shared those feelings, but they were secondary to a soaring sense of accomplishment. She was proud of her skills, and she was happy for a chance to demonstrate them. She’d worked hard to earn them, and it was only right that a **** should be able to serve.

The final man posed a challenge. The first one had been vigorous and ****, the second slow and seductive. How could she do something different yet again? That also was part of the test. Imagination. Willingness. You couldn’t pass just by rote learning. You had to try. You had to want it.

It was a devilish test in that respect.

Sunset knelt before the third man. His cock was hard as well, and her body throbbed as she took it into her mouth. Pleasuring three men filled her with an aching want, and it was time for her to get something back as well. As she sucked him off, she wrapped a hand around the man’s arm and guided it down, his fingers brushed her left breast, Pausing for breath, she managed to speak.

“Touch me as much as you want, master.”

Calling him ‘’master’’ sent a tremble through her, but it was also the only thing she needed to say. He moved, as she bent between his legs, her head bobbing and her lips sucking, she felt his fingers close about her chest. He was greedy and crude, grabbing and groping her, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin. His fingers dug into her roughly, but after the instructor had teased her and after the first two men, she was ready for any stimulation at all. Sunset’s pussy throbbed, a growing tightness between her legs drawing her attention.

She gave a soft moan - genuine this time - and put her back into her work. Her eyes were closed, and she was going by feel. His cock was erect, eager. His fingers danced across her skin, touching her and sending eclectic shivers through her nerves.

Sunset was almost disappointed when he came. So was he by the **** manner that he pulled away. She looked to the instructor, still kneeling on the ground.

The man nodded.

“Very good,” he said. “You pass. You are fully trained in the oral arts. Next, we will move onto positioning.”

As the three slaves were led away, another stepped from the darkness. He was a squat, well-muscled man. Naked as the others, and already aroused.

“Show us how a **** should pleasure her master, Sunset.”

The man lay down on the hard ground, his cock was erect and standing proud. It was on the large side, and Sunset felt her body thrumming. Her pulse raced, and she was full of heat and desire. She knew what was expected of her. Ciara would have been horrified.

Sunset was ready to do it.

She moved towards the man, crawling on her hands and knees. His skin was hot, his cock was erect. As she ran her hands over it, she felt it respond, growing harder. She smiled, running her hands back and forth over it as if it were a great treasure.

“Master,” she moaned, “you should sit back and allow me to do the work today. It’s a ****’s place.”

She rose to her feet and swung her leg over the man’s body, straddling him. Her pussy was wet, her folds glinted with moisture. Desire was obvious in her body language, she wanted to fuck him. She wanted to fuck him in a way that Ciara could never let herself do.

She lowered herself, using one of her hands to keep the man’s cock erect and pointing upwards as she sank downwards. A wonderful, terrible feeling overtook her as its rounded head pushed against her folds. Her pussy trembled, and her back arched.

She impaled herself on him, sinking lower inch by inch. The feeling was incredible after being denied for so long. It stole her breath away. Made her legs tremble. The man’s hands fastened about her thighs, fingers tracing her smooth skin. His nails bit into her, just a little.

Then they were moving. Sunset rose and fell, using her legs to push off. Her hips gyrated, gaining speed and power as she rode him. His cock was inside of her, pumping, rising and falling as she did. Sunset moaned out loud, the motion of her body made her breasts dance as well. The display was shameful, humiliating and exactly the sort of thing that Rovanii masters appreciated.

The feeling of penetration filled her up, the stranger’s shaft was hard and warm, eager to be inside of her. Each time she fell upon it, she drove it deeper, and it made her head swim. Electricity traced along her spine. She moaned, the sounds coming louder and louder, faster and faster. He was inside of her, fucking her. Driving her crazy.

He reached up, and his hands roamed across her body, touching her breasts, her thighs, and her legs. But Sunset did not forget her training. Though it would have been easy - so very easy - to get lost in the pleasure, she didn’t let that happen. She held fast to her lessons, remembering how to maximise the pleasure for her partner, remembering to intersperse quick, rapid movements with slower, sensual ones. To give him time to rest between thrusts so as to drag things on for as long as she could.

The man’s pleasure grew higher and higher, Sunset performed for him. For that was what it was; a performance. The perfect little **** doing as a **** was supposed to do. She rode him, fucked him, let him fill her up. Her pussy clenched about his cock, her heart raced, and her nerves screamed with pleasure. Her clit felt hot and tight, and her back arched.

The man wasn't just sitting still either, he was fucking her. Thrusting his cock deeper with each stroke, his moans were mixed with her own, but Sunset remembered her training here too. She wasn’t just mean to fuck him, she had to look sexy as she did it.

Before she knew what was happening, Sunset felt her body begin to peak. An orgasm growing in strength, sizzling her nerves, overpowering any attempt to drive it back. She climaxed, and as her body responded to that, her pussy tightening around her partner’s cock, he did too. Sunset felt his seed filling her up, hot and wet, it pumped into her pussy, but she was too caught up in the throes of her own ecstasy to care. Her heart beat at a crazy pace, and her body screamed with the intensity of her pleasure.

When it was finally over, she was gasping, ragged and worn. The man was led away, and Sunset looked to the instructor.

“Good,” he said. “Now do it again.”

Another **** was led from the shadows. Sunset realised that this was a game of endurance.

And for the next hour or so, that was exactly what she did. Endure. She was fucked from every possible position, at every possible angle. Standing, sitting, kneeling. From the front and from behind. Sometimes with more than one partner at a time. Each time, she was graded on her positioning, on how well she showed off her body, how seductive she looked, and how much pleasure she brought to her partner.

Before it was halfway through, Sunset’s head was spinning. Pleasure flooded her, her nerves were singing and she was fucked again and again and again. All the while, Hadrian and Onyx watched. Each time she thought it was over, another man was led out. She thought that surely she would collapse in exhaustion, but she always managed to rally and go on in the end.

Eventually, she realised the real point of the exercise. Looking up at Hadrian between partners, Sunset understood that this was to be her life now. This humiliation and shame, the knowledge of what she was sitting chilly in her mind.

She realised, as yet another cock was thrust between her legs, as she rose and fell, her body an instrument of pleasure, that Ciara could not come back.

Ciara would probably never be able to come back.

She would be Sunset forever.