30 - [Side Story] Lee Jiyoung (4)
But that happiness did not last long. One day, while I was doing busywork in the teachers' office, a text arrived from Ji-sung's mother. It said that Ji-sung would no longer be taking private lessons, so I needn't come anymore. His parents had been looking at me more and more strangely of late — at the lewd clothes I wore to their house every single day. And it wasn't just his parents. My colleagues at school, my husband, my children — all of them were watching me with growing bewilderment as my wardrobe grew more obscene and my temper more frayed. It had all been Ji-sung's demand. As long as he was satisfied, I couldn't have cared less about anyone else's eyes. And now I was no longer allowed to see him at all. With trembling hands, I texted him. His reply was cold. It would be difficult to meet going forward, he said. I had been discarded yet again.
I had barely regained my senses. I told myself this unhealthy relationship had to end now. But that resolve didn't last. An appetite that had already been awakened caught fire again within days, and I kept texting him, begging. Please see me again. I'll do anything you want. But there was no reply.
Then, with the college entrance exam drawing near, the text I had been waiting for so desperately finally came. Let's meet on the weekend, it said. He'd text me the place. His message alone had me so worked up that I masturbated in the school bathroom.
On the Sunday we were to meet, I left the house in the prettiest clothes I could manage — a green floral dress I'd bought after meeting Ji-sung. The flimsy skirt barely covered my hips, and the neckline plunged so deep it bared my cleavage. Beneath it, bare legs, not even stockings. My husband wasn't home, and my children stared at their mother's outfit in open disbelief — but my head held nothing but Ji-sung.
The place he'd named was some motel. Swollen with the hope that he would finally hold me again after so long, I practically ran there and knocked on the door. When it opened and Ji-sung's handsome face appeared, I nearly burst into tears. I threw myself into his arms and showered his lips with kisses. He led me inside. Just before we entered, I noticed something strange — an unusual number of shoes lined up at the entrance.
Inside the room were three more boys, Ji-sung's age. There were two beds, and the boys sat perched on their edges, eyes gleaming with anticipation as they looked my body up and down.
"Guys, the teacher's here."
"Hello, Teacher. It's been a while."
They greeted me with grins. And then, at last, I remembered them. Not from my own class, but third-years from last year. Athletes, like Ji-sung — PE recruits all. No doubt they'd all gotten into sports colleges by now. I greeted them awkwardly, but I couldn't make sense of the situation; flustered, I looked to Ji-sung and asked.
"Why are these boys here...?"
"I told them about you, and they said they wanted to try you too. You're starving for a man, and they've wanted you since way back — so it works out for everyone, doesn't it?"
Ji-sung said this absurd thing as if it were the most obvious arrangement in the world. A sudden chill swept over me. His expression was cold and cruel. Was this really the boy I had loved? That earnest, bright-eyed boy? Even when he'd told me I was nothing but a sex partner, he had always been gentle with me. Of course a twenty-year-old has a raging appetite. His sexual demands I could have accepted without limit — but the way Ji-sung looked at me now was not even that of a sex partner, let alone a teacher. It was the look that said: you're just an amusing toy.
"Teacher, you dressed up all pretty for us."
With that opening line, the boys began snickering in front of my face, appraising my body aloud. Filthy, obscene words flew back and forth. But I had no interest in them. My gaze was fixed on one thing only — Ji-sung's face, laughing along, egging them on.
"Sorry, but I have to go."
I turned to flee in terror, and Ji-sung caught me.
"Let's just have a little talk first."
He half-forced me down onto the bed. The other boys sat on either side of me, while Ji-sung and one more stood in front. The body heat of young men, their excited breathing, seemed to close over my whole body. When Ji-sung took out his phone and started fiddling with it, an embarrassing sound began to pour out of the speaker.
"Aaahh... Master... Master... it's so good... my pussy... keep pounding your cock into my pussy... haahh..."
Ji-sung thrust the phone screen in front of my eyes. On it, I was playing — legs splayed like a frog, being pounded by him. My body, shaking violently up and down, was flushed scarlet, my eyes glazed and unfocused, looking straight into the camera.
"A married female teacher who gave private lessons to a graduated student, caught his eye, and spread her legs — with two kids at home... That'd make quite a scandal, don't you think?"
Ji-sung was blackmailing me.
The title he'd given it was so precisely the truth that there was nothing to say in rebuttal. What I had done was exactly that: a married woman with a high-school son and a middle-school daughter, tutoring a student illegally, until she became his sex partner. My body and voice froze solid; I couldn't move, couldn't speak. My face burned and my heart hammered. All I could do was glare at Ji-sung's face with furious eyes.
"Wow, that death glare is no joke."
The boy beside me said it, running his hand over my breasts through my clothes.
"She was famous at school for being a real ball-buster, wasn't she? How'd you tame a woman like that into this? Your skill at reeling in women — genuinely respect it."
The boy on the other side said that, grabbing my other breast.
Ji-sung, meeting my glaring eyes, spoke up.
"A long tail gets stepped on. We don't plan on harassing you forever — just give it up this one time. After that, you'll never see our faces again. They just want to do it once with the school teacher who was famous for being pretty."
"Promise you'll delete the video."
I forced the words out strong, but tears crept in anyway, sliding down my cheeks.
"Fine. I'll delete it. In exchange, do it properly."
With that, Ji-sung went and sat down on a chair across the room. And the three boys threw themselves at me and began tearing off my clothes.
I tried my hardest not to react, but the hands of young men are rough and merciless. Not the pleasant strength Ji-sung had — these hands were violent, painful. The moment the dress came off, they yanked my bra and panties until they tore.
"Kyaaah! If you tear that, how am I supposed to... mmph—!"
My protest — I'd have to go home with no underwear — was smothered under a pair of lips. A tongue that smelled of cigarettes shoved into my mouth and began ransacking it. One boy sucked at my breasts while another licked between my legs.
"Holy shit, so this is what Lee Jiyoung's pussy looks like?"
"Check out those tits. The ajumma's nice and firm."
The boys traded commentary as they sucked, licked, and kneaded my body.
The first boy pushed inside me and began to move. Another boy's cock filled my mouth, and the third made me grip his with my hand. I had become, thoroughly, a toy.
The first came inside me without asking, and the boy whose cock I'd been holding shoved in next, grumbling. The ones pounding away at me changed positions, bent me over, and pushed into me from below and into my mouth again. After the second finished, the third said there was too much cum sloshing around in my pussy to want to go in there, spat on my anus, and shoved himself into that hole instead. It was the first anal sex of my life. It hurt so badly I screamed, but the boy didn't care. Through my tear-blurred vision I could see Ji-sung, sitting on his chair with a smile, savoring the sight.
The appetites of young men were endless. Whenever they decided my body had grown too filthy, they hauled me into the bathroom, washed me down, and threw themselves at me again. After coming, they'd lie beside me watching TV or eating ramyeon, and when their turn came around, they'd climb back on. Into my pussy, my anus, my mouth and face — semen poured into me without end. They penetrated my anus and pussy at the same time, and when I screamed from the pain, they stuffed my mouth with a cock too.
How many hours had passed? My mind was going numb. My body had reached its limit. I thought I might actually die. When they noticed my condition deteriorating, the boys finally agreed to stop. And then the boy who had been violating my anus one last time came on my hair, dragged me into the bathroom, and started showering me. I lay crumpled at the side, without even the strength to move. As he showered me, watching, the boy suddenly seemed to have an amusing idea and called the others over. Then, standing in front of me while the rest looked on, he took his limp penis in one hand and aimed it at me. I stared blankly — and the moment I realized what he intended, a yellow stream burst from his cock and struck me full in the face.
"No!!!"
I screamed and flailed, but the others came over and pinned me down with their feet, and then they too began pissing on my face.
"Aaagh!!! Please, stop!!!"
No matter how I screamed, the warm, sticky liquid pouring into my mouth did not stop.
Snickering, the boys took their fill of every appetite and finally left the room. Ji-sung, the last one remaining, came up to me where I lay drenched in urine in the shower stall and showed me the video being deleted from his phone. Then he grabbed me by the hair, hauled me up, and shoved his cock into my mouth. The penis I had once thought so beautiful now felt utterly repulsive. Urine began pouring from it. I gagged and tried to spit him out, but his hand wouldn't release my head. I was forced to swallow a considerable amount.
"Well, I'll be going then. It's been fun, Teacher. I was going to fuck you one last time, but you're too filthy to use now."
He said it while washing his hands at the sink, and then walked out of the room. That was the last time I ever saw Ji-sung.
After that day, I quit the school. I simply could not bear the lewd looks the students gave me anymore. And I grew irritable with my husband. I knew all of it was my own fault. But I resented him all the same — a man who no longer saw me as a woman at all. And my obsession with my son grew stronger. Yoon-seok was good at studying. I believed even his frail, timid nature could change. Doesn't position make the man? I believed that if only he could stand above others, my son could become strong like those boys — a man who takes what belongs to others.
But Yoon-seok failed that year's entrance exam, and as I sat drowning in despair, a former colleague told me about a place called MF Academy. It was an outrageous story — but she had no reason to lie to me. This body was already defiled. If this one body could secure my son's future, I was prepared to offer it, as many times as it took.