Learning the Department Rules with My Personal TA
"I'd like you to tell me exactly how far I'm permitted to go with the students."
At my question, Kim Minjeong stared back at me with visibly flustered eyes.
Hmm, so under this anomaly's setting, professors who come here are simply expected to already know how much they're allowed to do with their students?
Since pressing the issue any further might start to look strange, I put on a serious expression and carried on smoothly, as if nothing were amiss.
"It's just that I'm the type who prefers to have things nailed down before I begin. As I'm sure you understand, given the nature of our department, hands-on instruction and direct physical contact with students will be occurring quite frequently during practical classes."
"Yes, of course."
"As a professor, I want to know the precise line—exactly how far I'm authorized to go with my students."
"Ah, I understand completely. You'd like certainty before you begin. That's very responsible of you, Professor."
When I nodded at her words, the tension drained from Teaching Assistant Kim Minjeong's face, replaced by an expression of dawning understanding.
Then she took a single step closer to my desk and continued her explanation.
"To give you the conclusion first: because of its unique nature, our Special Devotion Talent Department operates on a far more absolute hierarchy between professors and students than any ordinary department."
"A hierarchy, you say?"
"Yes. Which is why the authorities granted by the department regulations are extensive. For example, every professor holds the authority to evaluate a student's academic achievement on the spot, anytime, anywhere."
Evaluating academic achievement on the spot, huh.
On the words alone, it sounded like some pop quiz or oral examination—but this was the Special Devotion Talent Department, wasn't it?
They hardly measure academic achievement with anything as boring as a quiz.
"I see. So the department does grant that level of authority. Good to know."
"Naturally. Without it, effective education would simply be impossible."
"Then might I ask precisely how far this 'academic evaluation' extends? A world-class university like ours surely has clear, established standards for such things."
The truth was I knew nothing, but I'd decided to bluff with maximum confidence and act like a professor double-checking the fine print.
That way I'd come across not as some clueless rookie, but as a demanding professor who knew everything and simply wanted to verify the details.
Kim Minjeong flushed faintly and hesitated, her lips parting and closing.
After a moment of struggling with how to explain, she seemed to reach some decision, looked me straight in the eye, and spoke.
"Honestly, showing you would be better than a thousand words of explanation. If you don't mind… would it be all right if I assumed the role of a student and demonstrated for you directly, Professor?"
"Personally? Well, I'd hardly refuse."
The moment my permission left my mouth, Kim Minjeong stepped around the desk and stood before me.
Then she began undoing the buttons of her white blouse, one by one, the fabric straining at its last threads of connection.
"Er… TA-nim?"
By the time the middle of the blouse hung fully open, an enormous pair of bra-cupped breasts spilled into view.
That alone was frankly overwhelming, but Minjeong promptly unhooked the bra as well.
And when the heavy, plump breasts hidden beneath it came free, I froze solid on the spot.
Holy shit. Holy shit.
The sight of her bare, weighty chest swaying freely in the open air was devastating enough—but it wasn't what held my gaze.
It was her nipples. Pierced through each one was a bar of silver metal.
Every tiny movement set the small rings dangling from them swinging, and the visual was so intense it bordered on assault.
As I sat there stunned, unable to tear my eyes away, Kim Minjeong gave a knowing smile, cupped her own breasts in her hands, and added:
"Ah, these… it's a little embarrassing to admit, but I'm currently retaking the advanced breast-development course. I have to keep my sensitivity heightened like this even outside of class."
"Oh… I see. Of course."
"In any case—this is what I mean. With the student's consent, a professor may visually inspect or physically examine a student's body-development status and sensitivity, evaluating their academic achievement firsthand."
This department was genuinely, certifiably insane—common sense didn't even enter the picture.
Under the banner of academic evaluation, a professor could freely grope a student's most intimate places—or go considerably further than that.
I'd expected it, but facing it as reality left me a little dazed.
"I see. Then I really should verify it myself if I'm to understand properly. Why don't you come over here and sit down?"
"Ah… yes, Professor…"
I did my best to wipe the flustered look off my face, then smoothly beckoned Kim Minjeong to my side.
The department TA had just offered to teach me with her own body, after all.
As a professor—and, frankly, as Kang Jinwoo the man—it was an offer no sane individual could refuse.
At my instruction, Minjeong obeyed without hesitation, carefully climbing up onto my lap as I sat in the plush professor's chair.
Her warm, heavy backside settled squarely onto my thighs.
Perfectly naturally, I reached out with both hands and seized her plump, piercing-adorned breasts, squeezing them firmly.
"Hah, aah…!"
"You really have been developed magnificently. Wonderfully heavy, and so soft."
"Mmnh… P-Professor, nnh…"
Savoring the slick, yielding fullness filling my palms, I flicked the little rings dangling from her nipples with my fingertips.
Each time I did, Kim Minjeong's body shuddered on my lap, and a honey-sweet moan slipped out of her.
Wow. This job is delicious.
I ached to strip her down and take her right then and there, but maintaining a professor's dignity, I asked in a composed voice.
"Please, continue your explanation, TA-nim. Is touching a student like this permitted?"
"Y-yes, hah… Visual inspection, or light contact like this using your hands, is permitted at any time as long as the student consents."
"And the students consent readily?"
"Mmnh… O-of course they do. If they want to earn good marks in practical credit, they have to have their achievement properly checked and evaluated by their professor like this."
"I see. And consent is still required. Saul University truly is a fine school that looks after its students' welfare."
"O-of course… And that's exactly why the students will all cooperate enthusiastically, Professor… Aahng!"
When I tightened my grip on her breasts, she threw her arms around my neck completely and began panting against me.
So, to sum up: touching and playing with a student with my hands was fair game.
Which meant, crudely speaking, I could stop any random female student in the hallway, ask if she was from the Special Devotion Talent Department, and start groping her chest the moment she said yes.
That alone was already a departure from every sane norm—but honestly, it wasn't enough to satisfy me.
To truly crush Baek Nahee's pride, stopping her in the hallway for a grope wasn't going to cut it.
"One more question, TA-nim."
"Yes, yes… hah, Professor…"
"Leaving hands aside—where does the department stand on acts using my actual equipment? In other words, how do the regulations treat direct use of my cock?"
At my blunt, explicit choice of words, Kim Minjeong's shoulders flinched hard.
Gasping for breath, she looked down at me through hazy, half-lidded eyes.
"Haa… A-anything involving direct penetration isn't classified as a standard academic evaluation. That falls under a separate category—the Overtime Practical Class."
"Overtime Practical Class?"
"Yes. So if you wish to conduct one, you'd need to submit a Practical Training Application to the department office and obtain approval first… nnh…!"
Ugh, what a hassle.
So even in this altered-common-sense world, the bureaucratic paperwork still rears its head.
Every time Baek Nahee got lippy, I'd need to prove my dominance by dropping my pants and burying myself in her on the spot—there was no way I could be filing forms each and every time.
Maybe I'd have to take a different approach to the plan, then.
Just as I was clicking my tongue in quiet disappointment—
"B-but… Professor!"
"Yes?"
"For the three students assigned as your personal students, an exception applies."
"An exception?"
"Yes. Under department regulations, a personal student's education rights are guaranteed to their assigned professor… nnh! You may educate them whenever you wish, however you wish. There's no need for any application."
"I see."
Well, that changed everything.
Baek Nahee was my officially assigned personal student—the one I'd chosen myself.
Which meant that under this department's regulations, anything I did to Baek Nahee fell within the bounds of legitimate education. No paperwork. No permission. Nothing.
If anything, the department would probably approve.
I'd look like a model professor—pouring affection into his personal student and diligently overseeing her education.
"Thank you for the explanation. This has been enormously helpful."
"Oh, not at all… haahh?! I-It's an honor if I could be of service to you, Professor."
"An honor, no less. I'm merely an assistant professor, you know."
Inwardly cheering like a madman, I kneaded her breasts even harder.
With news this monumental in my ears—and a voluptuous TA sitting bare-chested on my lap, panting right in front of me—there was no way my body wasn't going to react.
—sssnnk.
Inside my trousers, my junior—already engorged with blood and furious about it—stood straight up, ready to punch its way through the zipper.
The problem was that Kim Minjeong was sitting pressed tight against my lap.
My hard, burning length slid, all too naturally, deep into the cleft of her ass beneath that thin pencil skirt.
"……!"
"……"
A strange, awkward silence hung over the office—so thick that even her ragged breathing stopped.
Whether startled by the sheer size and heat pressing against her from behind, Kim Minjeong's face flared red as a ripened persimmon in an instant.
She flinched and averted her eyes, not knowing where to look—but she made no move to climb off my lap.
Instead, her glutes twitched and clenched, and it almost felt as though she were squeezing my length in a way that was very much not accidental.
Only a coward pulls out of a moment like this.
I gave a deliberate little cough, then packed my voice with every ounce of professorial sternness and gravity I could muster.
"Thank you for the thorough explanation of the regulations, TA-nim. I appreciate it."
"Ah… y-yes, Professor…"
"That said, though."
Grinding my aroused length against her ass one more time, brazenly and unmistakably, I pressed my shameless demand.
"I still don't have a clear picture of how this Overtime Practical Class actually proceeds. Surely the professor responsible for teaching the practicals ought to master the material first, don't you think?"
"W-well, that's…"
"If you're willing, TA-nim—why don't you conduct an Overtime Practical Class with me personally, and walk me through every detail?"
It was an abrupt, pushy, frankly absurd request.
But Kim Minjeong was already drowning—lost in the heat of my length pressed against her and the inescapable swamp of my infatuation passive.
She squirmed her legs together, then looked down at me with eyes glazed and dripping, and gave a shy little nod.
"Yes, Professor… if that's what you truly want…. I'll make sure you understand. Completely."