The Changelings Exam
The Changelings-13 exam paper featured a black-and-white printed scene from an erotic comic.
Question 4-1. Describe the official name of the position shown in Illustration A.
Question 4-2. Describe the physical arousal elements the man gains from this position.
Hyun-ah breezed through it. She'd picked up plenty of tips for solving these at school.
'When positions trip you up, simplify the man and woman's poses from the illustration—focus on the legs...'
Folding position.The physical arousal element is that the cock penetrates deeper than in other positions. It was also called the copulation press.
There was the thrill of completely binding and ravaging the woman, but with "physical" specified, she couldn't include that here.
Hyun-ah quickly scanned the next one. It looked manageable too.
Question 5. Which of the following is not an arousal element of the virgin bitch?
1. The gap between her delinquent appearance and her lack of actual sexual experience can excite a man.
2. The sense of fulfillment and satisfaction from the woman honing her sexual techniques for the man.
3. The thrill of another man's woman getting aroused by his cock can excite the man.
4. Without the man needing to make an effort, the woman aggressively seduces him first, providing mental comfort.
'The answer's 3...' If she were someone else's woman, she wouldn't be labeled a virgin bitch in the first place. Easy enough if you didn't get hung up on the word "bitch."
But question 6 made Hyun-ah grimace. Unlike the pre-war material in earlier problems, this illustration was unmistakably post-war. Pre-war, a horrific snuff photo like this wouldn't have flown.
It showed a woman in a judo uniform being mercilessly beaten. Bruises everywhere, clothes torn, kneeling in dogeza.
Question 6. From Illustration A, select the person who says something incorrect.
The shock lingered. Still, she couldn't stop solving.
Hyun-ah checked 4. Rashly switching concepts didn't help, but within the broad category of "woman defeated and raped by a man," varying looks was ideal. Not just a karate gi—taekwondo dobok, delinquent-style uniform, police uniform. Things where she plausibly fights a man and gets taken.
That brutally beaten woman wasn't a crime victim. Just a slave serving her master with her unique flair.
She'd solved it already, but moving on wasn't easy. The black-and-white blood haunted her eyes.
School made serving men a core subject. Becoming a woman who aroused men to contribute to society was a key learning goal.
But the content was far tamer than this. Textbooks showed handsome prince-types laughing ha-ha ho-ho. Even with some crude, misogynistic bits, most students loved it.
Slave training was different. Aimed at desperate women on the brink of slavery or deportation from Korea.
Verbal abuse was child's play. Plenty of men craved sex rough enough to sever limbs.
If you just wanted vanilla, Korean women were cheaper and cleaner. Slave buyers wanted ownership, tools to abuse freely. Sadistic play, zero regard for her feelings.
Hyun-ah had no intention of denying that reality. She turned to the next question.
Exam time ended, and the teacher wrote the answers on the board. Hyun-ah had doubted a couple, but luckily, full marks.
"No need to feel sad or regretful over wrongs. You can learn the unknowns slowly."
But such gentle words offered no comfort to pre-slaves. A few more right or wrong answers wouldn't make a man despise her.
Without that meaningless edge, they had nothing. Just pray for luck and a man's pick.
"Class dismissed. Any questions? Any topic fine."
Usually silent, but today a plain-looking girl raised her hand.
"Um, I just want to work at a café. Any tips for escaping a man quickly?"
Women who arrived vowing "anything goes" often cracked after seeing what "anything" meant.
"Very dangerous mindset. Few buy slaves like that, and escape might mean to the afterlife."
The teacher's face was firm. The plain girl bowed her head, deflated.
"Ah..."
"If I must give a tip: Slave prices have two parts—deposit and maintenance fees."
"Yes!"
"Set deposit low, maintenance high—men thinking 'fuck once and toss' might buy."
The teacher shared what she could to help. She wasn't the first to ask.
"Usually women with killer bodies but no human charm go for this."
Buyers treating them like disposable onaholes, no emotional drain. If not too abusive, win-win for seller and buyer.
"But never show you want to avoid or escape men. It's the man ditching from boredom, not you fleeing. More questions? Class over."
With final stern advice, the teacher left.
The classroom erupted. Noa nudged Hyun-ah.
"Hey, why so spooked? Chill. That won't happen to you, dude. Who'd trash a precious Korean slave like that?"
Rough words, but Hyun-ah knew it was encouragement.
"Hope you meet a good guy too."
Noa gave a wry smile. "Me? I'm not the gacha type."
She slung her leg on the desk. Hyun-ah glimpsed leopard-print panties, but her eyes locked on the ankle.
"Electronic... anklet?"
"Not a sex crime. Anyway, unlike you lot, I got dragged in for some fucking bad shit."
"Then..."
"Slavery itself is my punishment. Won't end pretty. Drugged numb, limbs hacked off... lucky if that's it."
The worst horrors awaited her: vivisected into a living ornament, gang-raped by animals, or unspeakable fates.
Hyun-ah couldn't meet her eyes. Her chattering friend had plunged into the abyss.
Slavery was risky for all. Bad master meant hell for anyone.
But "bad luck might hurt bad" versus "good luck means gentle death" were worlds apart.
"Why the red face... Dummy. No need to pity me. I've always dreamed of being a slave."
Noa stuffed Hyun-ah's printout into her bag and slapped her back hard.
"Shoulda had my neck snapped when caught, but I'm breathing an extra day? That's plenty!"
Name changed, fate unknown, but Noa was content now. Decent climate-controlled bed, edible food, casual friends. Her dream life.
Hyun-ah forced a smile, grabbed her bag, and stood.
Every study session taught something. How to seduce men, groom herself.
But the more she learned, the more her imagined future self diverged from reality.
It was all methods to sell herself. Fitting into the sellable product mold.
The more she read, the fainter her dream future grew. Embracing, whispering love—it felt so unrealistic now, learned lesson by lesson.
Can I really do this...?
Parting from Noa, waiting for the bus, Hyun-ah stared blankly into space.
She missed Ajusshi.