Training Diaries Are Essays: Periods 1 Through 4
Classes continued from first period through third, and now it was fourth period. Hyeonju slumped over her desk with a miserable expression.
"It's here... lit time..."
That meant the deadline for the book report homework she hadn't done was fast approaching.
She already knew she couldn't submit it, but as the moment drew near, she couldn't help feeling down.
"Cheer up, Hyeonju. You don't care about grades anyway, right? Homework doesn't weigh that much in the final score... and the lit teacher's Ms. Min-jeong. She's not gonna flip out over missing homework, yeah?"
"Yeah... that's true."
Seo Min-jeong was infamous as the timidest teacher around—so shy it made you wonder why she even became one. Even if Hyeonju marched up and admitted she hadn't done the homework, Min-jeong wouldn't get mad; she probably couldn't even muster a word.
Rumor had it she used to be a librarian until some recommender scouted her. Or rather, Hyeonju knew it firsthand because she'd heard it straight from that recommender.
Thinking about it that way eased her mind a bit, but it also felt cowardly to play favorites with the easy teachers versus the scary ones. Hyeonju's feelings were all tangled up.
"One more class and it's lunch, huh? But isn't your oppa's skipping morning classes today? Haven't seen him."
"Yeah... that bastard's probably showing up after lunch. Said he'd be playing with the married onahole next door till then. Talk about living the dream, right? Unemployed prick..."
"Hehe, kinda jealous. I wanna live like that too, just goofing off and eating... well, not that he's totally slacking, I guess."
Their brief chat wrapped up in ten minutes. The bell for fourth period rang, and soon the front door opened as Seo Min-jeong entered the classroom.
Min-jeong was on the short side, but her tits were huge. Sure, there were onaholes with even bigger ones, but proportionally? She had to be top-tier among the school's teachers. For a teacher here, her outfit was relatively modest—off-shoulder top and miniskirt—but with her thong straps peeking out, it was plenty to get a guy's blood pumping.
Min-jeong politely bowed to the class upon entering. Such a proper teacher.
"...Hello, everyone. It's literature time. I trust you've all done the homework I assigned last time. Please submit it on the podium after class."
With that short announcement, she dove straight into the lesson. Unlike Yoon Su-wol, who bantered lightly with students first to build focus, Min-jeong skipped all that.
Expecting the same polish from someone as socially awkward as Min-jeong was probably unfair, though. Knowing this, the students quietly opened their textbooks without complaint.
True to its name, the literature textbook was heavy on text compared to others—few illustrations to hook you, so just reading made you drowsy. But its excellent structure kept it readable despite the density, with engaging passages that kept outright boredom at bay.
"...So... where did this class leave off? Schedules vary by room, so I'm all mixed up..."
"Yes. Last time, you explained personal essays, then the bell rang."
The class rep answered, and Min-jeong nodded as if it clicked.
"Ah... right. Yeah, so we covered personal essays... specifically the assistant training diaries written by men. Next up: assistant training logs where onaholes become authors and record their own trainings. Let's jump in..."
She started writing on the board—from the far left edge, filling it to the far right without a word. Only when there was barely any space left did she speak again.
"Onahole-written assistant training diaries differ in tone from those by men. Even describing the same events, their perspectives are worlds apart—that's the key issue. Neither is superior; each has strengths and weaknesses. Men's logs detail the onaholes' slutty antics, the men's emotions and pleasure while watching, and their thoughts leading to training. That's the appeal. Onaholes can't read men's minds, but these logs offer indirect experience. That's hugely significant. The downside? Men write more sparsely and fragmentarily than onaholes, making truly literary examples rare. Paradoxically, that rarity gives the few gems great value. And,"
She went on and on. The info dump was insane. Normally, she stuttered softly, barely audible—but stand her at the lectern, and she raced through material faster than you could copy it.
No pauses for breath, no time for students to think, no questions. Just hammering in facts. Proof of her absolute lack of teaching finesse.
Finally, a student shot up her hand.
"Excuse me, teacher! Sorry, but you're talking too fast—I can't keep up. Could you slow down a bit?"
"Ah..."
Min-jeong gaped blankly, then flushed beet red and nodded timidly.
"S-sorry. I slipped into that bad habit again. I'll... fix it right away... um... so..."
Visibly flustered, she fumbled over where she'd left off, unsure how to restart skipped parts. A stark contrast to Su-wol's polish. Not surprising for an ex-librarian; some trial-and-error was inevitable. Maybe she needed retraining from her recommender.
"Uh, um... okay, then. Who wants to read the passage on page 74?"
Have a student read aloud while she regrouped and got back on track. A desperate measure, but it worked for now.
"I'll do it."
"Y-yes... Seong-mi, go ahead..."
Seong-mi stepped up, volunteering her help. She stood and read the example on page 74.
May 10th. Today, I got pussy training at Seongguk's house. I'd known he was obsessed with my body for ages, so I figured it'd happen eventually—but not this soon. He invited me over since his parents were out. As an onahole, I have no right to refuse a man, so I went. The second I opened the door, he crushed me in a bear hug with his heavy body and kissed me with those toad-like lips. While making out, his hard dick poked my thigh. It thrilled me that my onahole got this reaction, but my feelings were mixed. He led me to his room and ordered a striptease. So I,
"Ah... that's enough. Thank you, Seong-mi."
Regaining composure, Min-jeong cut her off in a calmer voice. As Seong-mi sat, the teacher continued at a better pace.
"This textbook excerpt is from some onahole's diary. Notice the matter-of-fact tone. It's setup before the main training, and the writer's a straightforward type. But that plainness contrasts with the pervy descriptions later, ramping up the arousal... Now, page over, third paragraph... um, the girl to Seong-mi's right?"
Hyeonju's turn. She stood and read the indicated paragraph.
My womb dropped fully, begging for cock contact. Each time Seongguk's glans kissed my cervix, my mind went white-hot, pussy drooling honey. He praised me as a fine onahole. Mercilessly swinging his dick to ravage my pussy, he tormented my nipples and clit without mercy too. He knew exactly how to use an onahole. Even I, who'd felt zero affection for him before, couldn't help the female instinct surging at such expert handling. I coquettishly begged for climax from my mouth. He laughed and spat in my face. I licked it up, lost in ecstasy, and came lightly.
"Yes, stop there... Thank you, Hyeonju... See how the mood shifts, even in the same piece? That's a hallmark of essay literature. The onahole subtly degrades the man as 'toad-like lips' early on, then revels in getting spat on—the contrast highlights her instincts dramatically. You've all felt it once or twice: a guy you ignored or hated suddenly floods you with love the moment he whips out his dick... Everyday experiences like that form literature's foundation."
At that instant, Oppa's face and dick flashed in Hyeonju's mind. She desperately tried to banish it—no way—but the afterimage lingered stubbornly.
In the end, she spent the rest of lit class with that ghost haunting her head. No, it's not like that! Nothing to do with that bastard! Her self-justifications fell on deaf ears, naturally.