Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Chapter 8: Ye-sol's Official Registration
I entered the office with Jeong Ye-sol. Pretending to input her member information, I tapped away at the keyboard while chatting with her.
"Once you're registered, you can use all the facilities in our dojang for free. We're planning to steadily bring in various exercise equipment, and as you saw last time, we even have a shower room."
"Don't most places have shower rooms?"
"You might think that, but surprisingly, very few dojangs actually have them. There are hardly any that run adult classes in the first place, so they don't even consider it."
"What kind of equipment are you bringing in?"
"To put it simply, stuff for building stamina and dieting. Ye-sol, feel free to use the machines after class whenever you want. Oh! If there's anything specific you'd like here, just let me know. I'll get it right away."
I explained in a bit more detail than last time. To be honest, we still didn't have much of anything. But that's all about how you sell it. Plus, if the Dojang Master will fetch whatever you want on the spot—who else offers that?
"How much is the registration fee? I was thinking of coming just once a week."
Now came the crucial topic. From Ye-sol's perspective, this was probably the last hurdle. If it was pricier than she expected, she might back out. At twenty, she'd have to cover it with pocket money, and college girls already had plenty of expenses—pouring a lot into a hobby like this would be tough.
That's why I'd given her my business card and told her to call ahead, but whether she wanted to see the dojang again in person or was dead set on signing up regardless, she hadn't bothered phoning. The website didn't list the fee, after all.
Anyway, having mulled this over plenty beforehand, I smiled and laid it out.
"As I mentioned last time, I'll be giving you one-on-one PT-style instruction. Unlike regular dojangs where groups train together, that makes our fees a bit higher."
"So no one else during my session time?"
"I can't promise 100%, but at most two or three others. I'll adjust to your schedule and try to avoid overlaps between members as much as possible."
"That's nice. So, how much?"
"10,000 won for four sessions a month, two to three hours each. As I said, all facilities are free like a gym."
"......"
She pondered for a moment at my words. Compared to typical Hapkido or Taekwondo dojangs, it was pricey. But factoring in the dedicated one-on-one focus, it wasn't. And once we got those machines in—free use without time limits—it'd be a steal.
Of course. I'd thrown out 10,000 won, but I wasn't planning to take the full amount. I couldn't handle that many members anyway; 10k or 20k made no real difference. Charging members was just to avoid suspicion if I didn't. Money comes from quests.
"But."
So.
"I'm running a special since I just changed the business type. First month is 50% off."
"50%... 5,000 won?"
"Yes. And the dobok fee—normally 30,000 won—is free too."
"Do I have to wear the dobok?"
"We're not teaching formal Hapkido or Jiu-Jitsu, so no big deal if you don't. But clothes might get wrinkled or dirty during class... you okay with that?"
"Not okay. I'll wear it."
"Got it. I'll give you a new one—wear it comfortably."
If other Dojang Masters heard this, they'd call it charity work. And Ye-sol must've looked up standard Hapkido fees before coming—a quick search would've shown her. Even at 10k, she'd probably sign up for a month.
In that sense.
"Alright. I'll register."
Her decision was only natural.
[Jeong Ye-sol has registered as an official member.]
o 50 Dojang Points acquired.
o 5 million won in Dojang Support Funds deposited.
Saving the rewards from Ye-sol's official membership for later, I waited for her in the dojang with a reverent heart.
Ahem. To be honest, with a heart full of impure thoughts.
'Can't help it, right? This is...'
It was unavoidable.
Click.
"All dressed."
"Yes! Come this way!"
She emerged in the black dobok. Even in the baggy fit, her distinctly feminine curves and swells stood out. Barefoot before me. She was too beautiful.
"......"
For a split second, the softness from last time flickered in my mind, and my gaze drifted downward unwittingly. Couldn't see inside, sadly, but surely just a t-shirt and bra at most...
'Damn, messing up again...'
I'd instinctively scanned her chest, then snapped my eyes back up. I snuck a peek at Ye-sol's face, bracing for a glare like before. But oddly, unlike then, she didn't react to my blatant stare. Just lightly stretching, loosening up.
'Ah, got it.'
In that moment, I realized. Unlocking [Chest] meant not just touch—members wouldn't mind my gaze either.
"Alright, Ye-sol. Before we start, I'll teach you the simple stretches you must do every time you come to the dojang."
Even as I let my eyes drop from her face to her chest while speaking.
"Yes."
She didn't care at all.
"Stretching is all about precise form. I'll guide you hands-on. First, neck stretches..."
I stood right in front of her nose, demonstrating. Explaining verbally—no need to touch.
Swish.
"Here, grab the top of your head and tilt slowly to the side."
I positioned her hand, then placed mine on her defenseless waist. With Ye-sol inches away, hands on her body—my heart pounded wildly.
"Mm..."
Pressing her tiny head gently; she let out a faint groan, maybe from the stretch. I placed my hands naturally on her delicate frame, as if utterly innocent. And she accepted it without sensing any ulterior motive.
From neck to shoulders, waist, knees, ankles—I didn't grope her chest awkwardly. Just stuck close, hands roaming her waist, belly, arms, shoulders freely, caressing.
"Hoo..."
Savoring her floral body scent, intoxicating my head bit by bit.
Finally.
"Can you do the splits?"
"Could when I was little, not sure now. We do that?"
"Not mandatory, but flexibility never hurts. Since what I teach is Hapkido-based... want to try? I'll assist from the side."
I had Ye-sol do leg splits. She sat on the mat, spreading her legs wide to the sides.
"Whoa, you're good. Now slowly lower your torso. No need to push—just as far as you can."
"Eut... Yes..."
I pressed her back lightly. Surprisingly flexible—tilted down steadily, nearly to the floor. But just before her chest touched, her limit hit.
"H-here... Ugh..."
"Okay. Hold it like this."
From behind Ye-sol, sprawled in splits on the mat. Swallowing hard at her round, assertive hip line. I kneaded her inner thighs.
Squeeze...
Careful not to stray too near her butt or crotch. Pretending to adjust form, I massaged her broad thighs and legs, stroked them.
"Feels the stretch here, right? Tough now, but keep at it and flexibility will improve. Helps sculpt a pretty body too..."
'Fuck... her ass is so damn hot. Wanna grope it like crazy...!'
Spouting nonsense aloud, I swallowed my dark urges deep.
Then. I bent at the waist, slipping my hand under her upper body. And...
Squeeze...!
"Eung..."
I grasped Ye-sol's breast.
'Haa... this is it, fuck...!'
Over the dobok, not as good as last time, but the sensation filling my hand sent excitement surging through me.
Knead...
"N-nearly reaches the floor, but a bit short. From now on, stretch like this before class to build flexibility. Perfect when it presses right down..."
Naturally, as if aiming to squish it just so. I played with her breast over the dobok—not too hard. Desperately wanted to slip inside, but from behind, the angle sucked. I held back.
'Fucking amazing...!'
After fully enjoying the softness I'd craved for days, I slowly lifted her while still cupping her breasts. Even with me gripping both from behind, Ye-sol focused solely on the stretch.
"Haa... Hoo..."
Her oddly aroused breaths came from ahead. From the stretch? Or the kneading?
"Three more times just like that, then done. Down again."
"Eut... Yes..."
We repeated thrice. Meanwhile, I eagerly fondled her permitted flesh, cock throbbing skyward.
Soon.
'...Not enough.'
I felt the lack.
Thud!
"Oof... You didn't forget a thing. Impressive."
"Hmph. How soon could I forget after learning?"
After stretches, we reviewed last lesson. Review was an understatement—she perfectly recreated everything I'd taught.
"...Heh."
Her face, a bit pouty during stretches, now beamed with satisfaction as she applied the techniques on me. She seemed purely enjoying self-defense itself. As Dojang Master and instructor, that thrilled me. Seeing others into what you love feels great, period. Of course, it didn't curb my desires.
"Now for something new. Next up is..."
As I spoke, I tensed up. What I was about to say—I was sure the system allowed it, yet hard to voice. But I believed. It'd work.
"Oh, Ye-sol."
"Yeah?"
"Your movements now... feel uncomfortable?"
"Uncomfortable?"
To her puzzled look, I elaborated carefully.
"Uh... Ahem. Under your dobok top, you're wearing... y'know, bra and t-shirt, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Bras are for support, so they might restrict movement a tad. Sure, real self-defense accounts for that, but at least in the dojang, freer is better. Plus, they snag during throws... Oh! Sweat buildup's gross, and saves laundry too."
I rambled convoluted bullshit reasons. In normal circumstances, she'd rightly slap me yelling, "Perverted freak!"
"......"
But Ye-sol just looked down at herself silently. No offense taken—just thoughtful. Soon.
"Be right back—taking them off."
"...! Y-yes! Take your time!"
She agreed. And headed to the locker room. This crazy line worked.
'Fuck, fuck, fuck, insane...!'
Excitement, anticipation, awe—curses exploded inwardly. Dobok pants tented, I waited for her return.
Moments later.
"Done."
Ye-sol reentered the dojang. My eyes shot to her chest, but hard to tell now. Black dobok, thickish fabric, collar snugly overlapped—nothing visible.
So, I pushed further.
"Ye-sol. Might as well wear the top looser too?"
"Looser? How?"
"Don't tie the belt too tight... Let me redo it."
I tugged her waist tie lightly.
Rustle.
Naturally, it loosened instantly; collar parted slightly, exposing a hint of collarbone. Ye-sol didn't react.
Gulp.
'Showing...'
From above, her pale skin and cleavage peeked.
Tremble.
Even as I shook, retying super loosely with trembling hands. Ye-sol didn't react.
Then.
"Like this... keeps it natural and loose... more comfy for you..."
With more nonsense, I gripped her collar and tugged up slightly.
"Hup."
I swallowed hard. My body froze at the sight through the dobok.
Milky, glowing flawless skin. Marshmallow-soft, teardrop masterpieces worthy of art.
And. For the first time in my life, beheld directly—the crowning glory of those perfect breasts. Pale areolas, surely untouched by any man. Utterly delectable. Pink nipples too.
Perfection incarnate.