The Mortifying Martial Arts Practical (2)

'Yeah. This is just showing off my muscles. It's like bodybuilding.'

In my previous life, I'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠proudly stripped off my shirt at the gym and struck ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠poses like a man.

This situation wasn't fundamentally different.

Just... my muscles were a bit smoother, softer, arranged in feminine curves.

But reality was harsh.

Dozens of eyes locked onto my chest, shattering my mental victory. The casual talk of bodybuilding vanished.

"...Ngh."

Unbuttoning the lowest one revealed pale skin. That alone shouldn't have been much, but shame flooded me anyway.

I squeezed my eyes shut and slipped my hand inside the shirt.

I had to unhook the back, but it was trickier than expected.

No, why won't this grab...?

It'd only been a day in this woman's body.

No way I'd ever unhooked a bra from inside my clothes—in front of a crowd, no less.

I felt the cold metal tip with my fingertips, but it refused to snap open.

Grunting didn't budge it. Worse, my ridiculous wriggling showed through the shirt.

The fabric rode up, exposing my navel, while my huge breasts jiggled every which way.

Snickers and gasps erupted from the watching students.

"Oh..."

"Whoa, what's she doing? Is she doing it on purpose?"

"Her tits are so big she can't reach, huh. Heh."

My ears burned red as I struggled, but Park Dusik's patience ran out first.

"What are you doing? I said no wasting time."

His voice rumbled low. He stepped closer, his massive frame filling my vision.

"W-wait! Almost...!"

"Can't wait anymore. I'll help."

No chance to stop him. His thick fingers plunged roughly under my shirt hem.

I fought the urge to snap his wrist again, leaving my body defenseless.

The rough back of his hand grazed my soft side and underboob.

Goosebumps exploded across my skin.

Pop—

Park Dusik unhooked it in one go and pulled his hand out.

Dangling from his fingers: the pink lace bra that had cupped my breasts moments ago.

"Confiscating your underwear. Come to the staff room after class to get it back."

My bra crumpled into his pocket.

I hugged my suddenly empty chest, trembling.

The unfamiliar rub of nipples against thin shirt fabric teased my brain.

Park Dusik smirked at my state.

"Alright! Basic fitness first! Twenty laps around the training ground!"

The practical was pure hell.

Without support, my breasts weighed far more than my gut—and were hypersensitive.

Every jog sent the heavy masses bouncing wildly, scraping roughly against my shirt lining.

How am I supposed to run like this...!

Even a slight speed-up made them flop up and down, delivering pain and strange tingles.

My sweat-soaked shirt had to be translucent by now, nipples outlined blatantly underneath.

The boys' stares bored into me openly.

I tried covering with my arms, but Park Dusik swooped in.

"Seo Eunha! Arms down! Run straight!"

"Eek?!"

Under pretense of posture correction, he groped my waist and shoulders constantly.

With all my nerves already frayed from my chest, his touches drew pathetic moans from me unbidden.

I'm barely holding it together...!

His constant groping pissed me off enough, but reining in my fists doubled the strain.

Jog finally over.

Time to pick and swing weapons of choice.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Jog's done. Grab a weapon you wanna try!"

Focus. Getting Basic Swordsmanship is the tutorial goal...!

Per the original, this session alone should've granted Basic Swordsmanship (F).

But my body wouldn't cooperate.

Swinging the sword made my huge tits flail wildly.

Arms-only swings to minimize bounce looked comically awkward even to me.

Park Dusik's "corrections" were inevitable.

"Focus on form! Don't just use your arms—move your whole body!"

"Hng?!"

Fuck! Like I can focus when you grab me mid-swing!

I gnashed my teeth, swinging the wooden sword.

Suppressing counterattack instincts tanked my focus.

Boys' gazes made my shoulders hunch; Park Dusik's fixes grew relentless.

"Seo Eunha! Form's slipping! Relax your arms!"

"Ah!"

"Seo Eunha! Spread your legs ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more! Swing with your body, not arms!"

"Kyaa!"

"Seo Eunha! Balance properly! Those huge tits just for show?"

"Ngh...!"

"Seo Eunha!"

"...!"

Dozens of corrections later, the practical mercifully ended.

I panted, opening my status window.

No change in skills. No Basic Swordsmanship.

Blowing the tutorial like this... pathetic.

I stared blankly at the ground.

"Seo Eunha. Follow me. I'll return your underwear."

Park Dusik pulled me aside to his office.

I trailed him like a cow to slaughter.

The room overflowed with gym equipment and paper stacks.

He sank deep into his chair, staring me down.

"Two demerit points."

He shoved a paper at me. Red ink by my name: 'Demerit Points: 2'.

"Demerits?"

"You think assaulting an instructor during class slides? Should go to disciplinary committee, but I'm letting it off with points."

My stomach dropped.

Over 10 points? Straight to "special education" under student council oversight.

Kang Jinhyuk spotting me hypnosis-free? Straight to corruption ending.

Disciplinary? Different danger—masters of sexual torment.

I wouldn't break, but no thanks to that treatment.

"But that aggrieved look..."

Park Dusik chuckled, savoring my panic.

"Fine. Prove your deep remorse with your body, and I'll erase the points."

"...With my body?"

"Instructor discipline. Take the rod, realize your wrongs—points gone. Next time you screw up, same deal. Come get punished anytime to clear 'em."

His intent shone through. Using points to train me to his taste.

But I knew better.

Beating this pig a few times beat committee or stacking points.

Go ahead, hit me. Think I'll flinch at a little pain?

I thrust out my palm confidently.

"Got it. Take the hits, points erased?"

My bravado stunned him, then he shrugged laughing.

"Pfft, haha! Seo Eunha, what are you doing?"

"Huh? You said take the rod."

"Not kindergarten. Awakeners' hands grip, not get hit."

He tapped the desk in front of me.

"Rod hits body, not palm. Proper lower body base steadies mana and mind. Hands on desk, bend over."

This pervy game's world hit home again.

Of course punishment wasn't normal.

Brain blanked. Palm? Easy. Ass? Different story.

And my outfit: ultra-short miniskirt.

Bending over? Exposure guaranteed.

"Don't want to? Keep the points, call committee."

"Wait, you didn't say both!"

He shrugged lazily.

"No reason to waste mercy on unrepentant brats."

He leaned back, sure I'd cave.

Fine... Better than points or committee. Was gonna take hits anyway.

Just the spot was off. Rest same.

I bit my lip, hands on desk, bending at waist.

Shrrk—

Skirt flipped up, baring white thighs and ass curve defenselessly.

"Ngh...!"

Where's he staring like that...!

Shame leaked a moan. Gym teacher huffed hot breaths, closing in behind.

"Good form. Lesson starts."

His meaty palm rose slow.

Then slammed down.

Smack—!

"Ah, ngh...?!"

First strike: no scream, just gasp.

Not mere pain.

Park Dusik held a grudge—infused mana into his palm.

Mana Sensitivity sucked up the filthy, sticky mana in real-time.

It raced up my spine like lightning to my brain.

What... is this? Why so...

Light slap sound, but inside: heat storm.

Body and mana affinity amplified stimulation inside and out.

Ass impact vibrated, churning my whole body.

Smack, smack!

"Hngh, ngh! Haa, ah...!"

Each hit made ass flesh ripple like waves.

Problem: legs. His mana grazed my spine, knees buckled against my will.

No, hold...! Not in front of this bastard, looking this pathetic...!

I strained my legs desperately, but muscles melted in his hand's heat.

Brain screamed.

Not pleasure—pure, intense stimulus numbing it.

Smack!

"Aahn, ngh!"

Fatal blow dug deep into underass.

Legs gave out like a tripped fuse.

"Haa, haa...!"

I collapsed fully onto the desk.

Bare-chested tits squished against hard wood. Firm pressure on tips added electric jolt.

Thighs quivered, rubbing together; I clawed desk edge white-knuckled, ragged breaths heaving.

Fuck... body feels wrong...!

Mana torrent overwhelmed; couldn't think.

Brain-scrambling mana mixed with punished shame. No clue what buckled my legs anymore.

"Hngh...!"

"Seems you reflected deep. No points. Heh... want more cleared? Come anytime... kek."

Park Dusik snickered vilely, stuffing my confiscated bra into my pocket.

I stumbled out on wobbly legs.