The Imitating Master, Kim Aran the Natural Bitch
Mingyu sat in his chair, staring blankly at Kim Aran as she chattered away right in front of him.
A Telegram notification.
The exact vibration pattern reserved for Telegram. Short and intense.
Kim Mingyu flinched the moment he felt it.
Jiwon…
But Kim Aran, oblivious to his situation, pulled out a bundle of papers and continued her teasing.
“Hmm~ Mingyu, you like Song Jiwon, don’t you? Hehe~ I saw honey practically dripping from you on those stairs earlier.”
Mingyu panicked and forced a laugh, trying to deflect.
“N-no, ma’am. I just… respect her as my homeroom teacher… and, well… there’s a lot I can learn from her as a professional…”
Kim Aran rested her arms lightly on the desk. Beneath them, the soft swell inside her T-shirt was visible. Not overly large, but perfectly filling a man’s hand—C-cup, the ideal handful.
She propped her chin on her hand and stared straight at him.
“Oh really~? Then what was that look in your eyes? They were practically burning. Lust. That was pure, raw lust.”
Mingyu’s hand twitched involuntarily. The word, spoken so playfully, was terrifyingly accurate.
“Another word for lust… ‘passionate desire,’ maybe? In classical literature they say ‘fiery longing’ or ‘carnal obsession.’ These days people just say ‘horny,’ right? Ahahaha~!”
Mingyu smiled without a word. The smartphone in his hand had stopped vibrating. He couldn’t check it—not with Kim Aran right in front of him.
Her fingertips brushed his shoulder in passing, the fabric of her T-shirt sliding against his skin. She leaned in slightly, her body pressing against his arm. The curve of her breasts grazed him, soft and deliberate. Her arm linked naturally with his, pulling him closer so her chest pressed firmly against his forearm.
She was still smiling playfully, but Mingyu’s mind was growing hazy. Her warmth, her touch, the ambiguous line she kept crossing—it all tangled around him.
Kim Aran casually patted his shoulder. Every brief contact let her breasts brush against him. The gentle sway of those curves whenever she turned her head felt far too intentional to be simple teacherly playfulness.
“Even I, your teacher, felt a little danger from that look~ Maybe our Mingyu is quiet on the outside but burning hot on the inside~?”
Every word was accompanied by more skinship. Her touches carried the dense intent of a female teasing a male. She moved closer, linking arms with him and deliberately pressing her chest against his arm. The soft, sensual pressure was unmistakable.
Her other hand slid down his side, fingers brushing his waistband. Mingyu’s cock hardened. He tried to suppress the arousal, but Kim Aran only pressed closer, clearly enjoying his reaction.
“Are you nervous because you’re so close to your teacher~?”
She tilted her head provocatively and slid her smooth, slender thigh against the side of his knee. Her skirt fluttered, briefly revealing then hiding the skin. She shifted her legs as if simply adjusting her posture, and her knee slid smoothly between his thighs, rubbing against his pants until it stopped just below his erection—close enough to feel the heat, yet not quite touching. The distance was maddeningly precise.
Soon her thigh withdrew, but Mingyu’s cock was already fully hard.
Damn it… my dick reacted on its own…
Was this affectionate teacherly teasing or deliberate sexual harassment? The line was blurry, and Mingyu found the ambiguity strangely unsettling.
He sat frozen, unable to pull away. Then the phone vibrated again—longer and heavier this time.
Ah… I’m going crazy. What the hell did that bitch send me now…
Kim Aran, who had been tidying papers, suddenly exclaimed, “Oh, right~!” She grabbed the swimsuit and held it up to her chest with a bright smile, completely unselfconscious.
In that moment, Mingyu’s mind painted the image of her wearing it. A high-leg one-piece that exposed almost everything below the waist. The matte black fabric looked like expensive lingerie, casting sensual shadows. The sides were cut so deep that her hip bones were visible. From the front it looked merely provocative, but the back was pure obscenity. The high-leg cut barely covered her pussy, and the V-line from waist to hips was designed to perfectly display her firm ass. Every movement would threaten to reveal both her pussy and asshole. It wasn’t a swimsuit for swimming—it was an outfit made for voyeurism.
Kim Aran, whether aware of his thoughts or not, chattered excitedly.
“Haang~ I wish the school pool would open already! Aang~ I really want to put this on and just run out there~ Hnnng, I can’t wait~♥”
She rubbed the swimsuit against her body, playfully pressing down along her hip line.
“Look~ The side cut is so embarrassing~ You’ll be able to see all my ribs, right? Aaah~ This is bad~ If I wear this in front of the students, they’ll all be shocked… right? Ung♥”
Her words carried no awareness of lewdness, yet every gesture—her fingers tracing the waistline, her palm sliding down the V-cut—stabbed straight into Mingyu’s brain.
She muttered to herself, “Ugh… I love this swimsuit so much… Can’t I just wear it around all the time? Ah… the old farts would freak out again~ No… I’d really get caught if I did that, wouldn’t I~ Hehet♥”
Then she suddenly looked at Mingyu and said casually, “Oh~ right, Mingyu, you can go now~ I win today, okay? You can leave~”
She added one final line, her voice bright but carrying a strange pressure beneath the smile.
“But Mingyu~ The pool’s going to open again soon, you know? This time, instead of me catching you… I’d rather our puppy come running over on his own, wagging his tail~? Hmm… if you don’t? I’ll just put a collar on you and drag you there myself~♥ Kyahung~!”
She flashed a bright, natural smile and made a playful tiger gesture, looking every bit like an ordinary, mischievous teacher. But when Mingyu’s gaze awkwardly drifted away from her face, Kim Aran’s eyes narrowed for a single instant. The corners of her eyes creased as her lips curved into a slow smile. Something was definitely hidden in that smile.
The moment Mingyu turned toward the back door to leave, Kim Aran whispered in a tiny voice behind him.
“Haang… even your back view is cute, little puppy…”
She tilted her head and began humming a tune, her demeanor completely different from the playful, chattering woman she had been moments ago. The room fell silent in an instant. The bright, lively atmosphere vanished as if it had never existed.
She slowly released the swimsuit from her hands. The thin straps that had wrapped around her waist hung loosely in the air. The humming and excited chatter disappeared without a trace. Her expression had become blank. Her eyes were cold, like empty glass marbles, and her lips were tightly pressed together as she tossed the swimsuit carelessly into a corner of the office. The garment lying on the floor looked like nothing more than a simple tool, devoid of any emotion or attachment.
She sat down at her desk without a word. One hand lifted a cup of coffee while the other slowly opened a book. The volume lying open on the desk was an old French hardcover.
La Religieuse — Denis Diderot.
A convent, obedience, corporal punishment, guilt, human beings ruled in the name of God. She turned the pages with familiar ease. The chattering, the dense jokes, even the playful way she had pressed her body against Mingyu’s arm—all of it had vanished as if it had never happened.
Seated at her desk, she turned the pages with a calm, expressionless face. Only the sound of paper being turned quietly scratched at the air of the closed room.
And in that silence—
A single phrase slipped out, soft and quiet.
“…Vraiment mignon, mon petit chien.”
The low, deep resonance unique to French soaked through the room like a gentle ripple. There was no playfulness, no emotional tremor in her expression. Only a stillness so profound that even breathing felt intrusive. She gazed at the book and slowly raised her coffee cup.
Kim Mingyu carefully closed the office door behind him.
Phew… I survived…
But before he could even relax, a group of male students came rushing down the hallway, shouting loudly and waving their arms.
“No, I’m telling you! Love handles!!”
“You still don’t get it? Look—exactly like this from behind, right!? Like, yeah? Having sex!? So where do you grab? Right here, the woman’s waist—grab it like this~ right?”
“That’s what love handles means! Seriously~ Hey, exactly, like that! Imagine she’s wearing a swimsuit—then it’s like this,”
Their voices faded into the distance. Mingyu stopped walking and unconsciously looked back.
That guy… who the hell keeps popping up? I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere… who was it?
The word “swimsuit” rang clearly in his ears. A sudden, inexplicable sense of déjà vu crept up the back of his neck. Mingyu lowered his head with a bitter smile.
Yeah… now I remember why I used to avoid Kim Aran so much… why I quit the swim club… When I think about it, it really wasn’t a big deal.
The memory was embarrassing… and a little shameful. Joining the swim club had been a mistake. More accurately, he had been forced to join.
Kim Aran had grabbed both of Mingyu’s shoulders with a bright smile and declared, “Mingyu~ You’re definitely the swimming type!”
That smile had been lovely and warm, yet somehow he hadn’t been able to refuse. Even a simple invitation would have been enough to make him join, but it felt like he had been scammed.
The real problem came after. There were so many female seniors. So many female juniors. All of them in swimsuits. The girls wore tight, one-piece spandex suits. The boys wore… not boxers, but tight triangular racing briefs. And stuck in the middle of all that was the awkward Kim Mingyu.
During training, Kim Aran often spoke to him. “Aigoo~ Our Mingyu~ Did you swallow water~?” She would laugh and pat his head, rest her hand on his shoulder, even “accidentally” bump her chest against his back while saying “Oops, sorry~” To anyone watching, it looked like affectionate skinship, but to Mingyu every single touch was a mixture of arousal and humiliation.
Ah… why does my dick always react first whenever I’m in these situations…?
The direct reason he quit the swim club was a similar incident. One day, while Mingyu was drying off on a bench beside the pool, Kim Aran approached and tossed him a towel with a smile.
“Mingyu~ You’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry off properly~ Come here.”
She cupped his cheeks with both hands and said, “Mmm~ Your cheeks are all red. So cute, our Mingyu~” Then she leaned in so close it looked like she was about to kiss him. His cock reacted. Not just a little—enough to press against her chest. Mingyu threw the towel over his head and ran away. After that day he never went near the pool again. A few weeks later, while Kim Aran was away on a short training trip to France, he submitted his withdrawal form like lightning.
Looking back, he had been so immature back then. Though, even now, he was probably still immature. Mingyu sighed and began descending the stairs. It had been the same then. And today… it was the same again. Even now, as he escaped from Kim Aran, he was still running away.
Agh… seriously… what am I supposed to do when the pool opens again… She said she’d put a collar on me… was she serious…?
As he shook his head and walked down, his fingertips brushed the smartphone in his pocket. The short, strong Telegram vibration.
Ah, right—Jiwon…!
Only then did the other desire that had been tightening in his mind come rushing back. What kind of message had she sent? What words were waiting inside? But he still couldn’t check it. The notification had rung inside Kim Aran’s office, and all Mingyu could do was wait for the moment he was finally free of her. Even now, the unread message was waiting for him on Telegram. And he… was already turning his steps toward the art building, thinking about what command he would use to corrupt her today.