Taming the Madam's Pride
"...What in the world are you saying to me?"
She sat at the center of the main room with a stern expression, gazing at me boldly. Her demeanor screamed that she was the mistress of this space, untouchable by anyone. But in this situation, proven by the reflection of the family precepts, that attitude was nothing more than bravado. As if to confirm it, her eyes trembled slightly upon hearing my words.
"Didn't you hear me? I said you don't know how a woman should behave in front of a man."
"How dare you speak such nonsense...!"
A son's words insulting his mother. Enraged, she straightened her back and stood. The charismatic actress who captivated millions now rose to intimidate one man. Her upright posture radiated considerable pressure.
But I paid no heed to her attitude, scanning her body from head to toe. Her outfit resembled traditional hanbok. Earlier, her intimidation had kept me from looking straight, but now I could see clearly. What appeared to be a neat hanbok was merely an illusion—it wasn't truly traditional. For instance, her elegant jeogori seemed a size too small, hugging her breasts just enough to make her nipples stand out. And the skirt? It subtly accentuated her hips and thighs in a way no proper traditional skirt would.
That sight reaffirmed it. What she was doing was just an imitation of a Joseon-era noblewoman—her true essence was merely a plaything to entertain me.
"Where are you looking! There are the rites of the Three Bonds and Five Relationships! Who permitted you to gaze upon your mother with such lecherous eyes!"
Knowing this, her fierce rebuke didn't scare me. All I could think now was how to cook her up.
"Then who permitted you, Mother, to speak to a man like that?"
"What?"
She froze, never imagining backtalk. She glared at her insolent son, a moment away from exploding in rage.
"Hong Min-jeong. Attention."
But as if mocking her, I said it lightly—
"―――!"
She snapped her arms to her sides, assuming attention stance instantly. Seeing her confusion at her own actions, I stood beside the newly installed folding screen.
A folding screen inscribed with the characters for Namjon Yeobi. She glanced between the screen and me, then suddenly wore an expression of realization. A lowly woman obeying her superior was only natural. That's surely what she thought.
I seized the moment to press her.
"Since when was a woman allowed to argue with a man's words?"
"What nonsense is this... Am I not your mother?"
"You're just a woman, nothing more."
No matter how refined she appeared, she was the same as the others. No different from the cute maidservant Eun-bi, who served me as her master. If Eun-bi thought she served me because she was a slave, what about this woman before me?
"Mother or not, you're still a woman. A lowly woman mustn't defy a man's words, right?"
"………."
She shut her mouth, unable to retort. But her rigidly maintained attention stance was her answer to me.
I approached and slowly, very slowly, lifted the hem of her skirt. Horror flashed across her face, but her stance held firm.
"What are you doing? Do you realize you're lifting your mother's sk—skirt...? I understand. I get it, so stop now. I've realized my mistake... A mere woman won't defy a man anymore, so please stop...."
She pleaded desperately as her body was exposed to her son's touch.
"Of course I know it's my husband's command. But I'm a woman—and your mother too, aren't I? Surely you don't intend to humiliate your mother. Now that you know, stop."
No intention to humiliate? That was the only reason I'd come here.
"Do you think I'm just grabbing Mother's body and doing this? It's all part of the education."
Remembering the app's warning—[Please act cautiously, as actions contradicting the settings may cause the scenario to break.]—I chose my words carefully. No point rushing and breaking the setup.
"Wh-what kind of education is this... Stop...."
Despite her strained plea, my fingers kept lifting her skirt. It had risen from her ankles to above her knees. Soon her thighs would be fully exposed; her voice trembled as she begged.
"How can lusting after your mother's body be education? Besides, didn't I say I understand? I'll listen obediently like a proper woman. Sit down now and let's talk. I seem to have made many mistakes in how to behave before a man...."
"Lusting after your body? Ha, I wonder how Mother sees my actions."
"If you're not lusting after your mother's body, why do something so perverse!"
She seemed on the verge of madness at my brazen reply while lifting her skirt. Her refined poise had long crumbled. I showed no mercy, hiking it halfway up her thighs.
"It's purely an inspection. Checking if Mother's attire is proper for facing a man. That's all. What were you thinking to call it lusting? To me, it seems Mother's head is filled with filthy thoughts."
Unable to bear the humiliation and my teasing, she screamed.
"Inspecting attire—why lift my skirt then! That place is a sanctuary only my husband—your father—may see! Release your hand at once!"
She flinched, her face beet red, her stance wavering. She couldn't "accept" this as fitting the scenario. To convince her, I spoke again—absurd words that made no sense, but hypnosis left her no wit to refute.
"Of course, since the attire inspection includes underwear, I lift the skirt. Don't misunderstand. I'm merely following Father's orders, confirming if you've worn proper underwear before a man. Goodness, Mother. Wearing such improper underwear."
Lifting the billowing skirt fully revealed her undergarments: plain white cotton underclothes, like something from a folk museum. Wow, fascinating. What do you even call these? Not panties...
Well, I could just ask her.
"What kind of underwear is this? What's it called?"
"Stop now... Please...."
Even exposed, she held attention. Her face burned crimson, on the verge of fainting.
But that didn't make me go easy.
"Answer the question. Isn't this education? Tell me what that thing below is called."
"Leg... leg underwear...."
Leg underwear, huh. Not a very evocative name. Covering her privates with semi-transparent white cloth, and that's all they call it?
"And the top part? Don't worry, no plans to lift the jeogori."
Answering her believed son with her skirt hiked up seemed torturous. Sweat beading on her flushed face, she barely replied.
"The top underwear is... breast... breast cover.... Is that enough? Curiosity satisfied? Lower the skirt now...."
"Do you think I'm just curious about scraps of cloth? I said it's education—specifically, terminology education. To correct Mother's improper language. A noblewoman who can't name her own underwear properly? Unacceptable."
I stuffed the skirt hem into her mouth.
"From now on, call those leg underwear pussy covers. The top is breast cover, but bottom is leg underwear? Doesn't make sense. Oh, and call the breast cover titty covers too. That's how a woman refers to her underwear before a man. Got it?"
"…………."
She bit down hard on the skirt in her mouth, glaring. Rage over shame, it seemed. Her underwear already inspected, she could endure this exposure.
I pulled the hem from her mouth to check. She said:
"You're truly mad. Order me to relax stance now. I'll report your deeds to my husband immediately."
After the prolonged insults, she'd chosen: break with her son before tolerating this. But still holding attention, she hadn't ended the "education" voluntarily. Now it was a battle of wills.
I stuffed the skirt back in.
"Mother speaks only when I tell her to repeat my words. Until then, no relaxing stance or other words. It's disciplinary education—please understand my intent."
"…………."
To her sealed lips, I whispered the "required words." Hearing them, she squeezed her eyes shut, feigning stoic resolve—like a chaste Joseon wife.
Hmm, her attitude suggested she wouldn't yield even after hours. But time wasn't the only way to get the answer I wanted.
"Eun-bi! Madam calls for you. Come here."
"………!"
Ignoring her, I called out past the papered door. Her eyes bulged in desperation, silently pleading, What are you doing...?
What else? Testing if she could endure her maid seeing her like this.
"I said clearly: no relaxing or speaking except to repeat my whisper."
I warned her, then called outside again.
"Eun-bi! What are you doing? Madam has something to show you!"
Slide—
"You called, Madam? Sorry for the delay. I needed a moment to compose myself...."
"Shh, be quiet."
After some time, Eun-bi entered the main room. Spotting her young master upon entry, she shot him a glare. Crushing a girl's heart then wearing that shameless face. She vowed never to look at him again, turning to Madam.
Her true charge was Madam, not that lecher. But Hong Min-jeong, the madam she served, paid her no glance.
"Madam...?"
Fearing rebuke for tardiness, Eun-bi asked apologetically. Madam's response was shocking.
"Ah, henceforth I shall call my breast cover a titty cover.... And leg underwear... p-pussy cover...."
Madam sat with dignified poise, the epitome of a refined lady of the house. No different from the one Eun-bi reverently served daily.
"Madam, what did you just say...?"
Eun-bi thought her ears deceived her. What was that? Surely not what I heard....
Hong Min-jeong glanced at Eun-bi, startled, then whipped her head away. Madam's flushed face darted about—a sight Eun-bi had never seen.
After glancing around, Madam steeled herself and spoke again. Her words shook Eun-bi to the core.
"I thank your son for educating this lowly wench who couldn't even utter pussy cover properly.... Henceforth, this wench shall call pussy cover pussy cover for life...."
"Madam...? What are you... saying...?"
"What wraps this wench's breasts is a titty cover.... This wench's vulgarly huge t-titties are wrapped in a titty cover... I shall never call it a breast cover again...."
In the end, Madam Hong Min-jeong didn't expose her underwear to Eun-bi. Whether baring underwear or submitting to her son was more shameful, who knows.
Doesn't matter. She'd bare it all eventually.
The household's education had only just begun.