The Bitch's Bladder Training: Piss Strictly Forbidden
The art building’s old corridor connected to the main building, and Kim Mingyu walked along it before quietly stopping. The space had been left abandoned ahead of remodeling. It used to be a student café.
A sign still hung above the door: Le Silence des Couleurs — The Silence of Colors.
The kind of silence that felt as though no one was allowed to speak. Like a painter holding their breath before a canvas, the place itself seemed to hush anyone who entered.
At the closed door, he rummaged through his pocket. Telegram. One unread message. The vibration pattern was familiar — short and sharp. It was definitely her.
Kim Mingyu turned on the screen. The message slid into the dark chat window, line by line.
‘It felt like someone was watching me from behind… but I still went up. Because… it was your order.’
He drew a slow breath. One corner of his mouth lifted, very slowly.
“…Heh.”
Fingers loosely wrapped around the phone, eyelids half-closed, Mingyu laughed quietly.
‘The bitch is already making up her own excuses.’
Could this really be called obedience? She was now clutching her master’s command like a get-out-of-jail-free card and throwing herself into depravity with it.
But then he exhaled softly, gazing out the window.
‘Is that really it? Does she actually believe she’s being controlled by her master?’
‘Or is she just using the order as an excuse to dive into the pleasure she already wanted?’
“Because it’s Master’s command.”
‘With that single line, she erases every trace of guilt and gets to fall even more brazenly.’
He narrowed his eyes.
‘Clever… or maybe just clever enough to hide behind it. I can’t tell if it’s real corruption or just an act.’
Mingyu quietly read the last message, stared at the screen for a moment, then typed a short reply.
“Good girl.”
The moment he sent it, the read receipt appeared instantly. Right after, the top of the chat showed “typing…”
“……What the hell.”
Mingyu chuckled under his breath. It was as if she had been waiting the entire time — as if she hadn’t taken her eyes off the chat even for a second, just waiting for him to read it.
A bitch starving for praise. Addicted to reporting.
He let out a light breath and kept his eyes on the screen. Soon, the real report arrived.
Mingyu looked down at the screen, eyes narrowing. Every word had been typed with painstaking care — even the periods and ellipses felt like hesitant confessions, as if she were catching her breath between each line.
‘This bitch… right now…’
He slowly furrowed his brows, lips twisting into a smirk. Just minutes earlier, he had been among the students, watching her climb those very stairs from behind. No one had said anything as crude as “fuck, that’s so hot.” They had only whispered.
“Whoa… Song-seonsaeng’s thighs are insane.”
“What the hell is with those legs?”
“She’s totally doing it on purpose, right?”
She had exaggerated. Made it a little more lewd, a little more vulgar — all to earn even a scrap of her master’s pleasure.
Mingyu snorted softly, yet found the fabricated confession oddly endearing.
‘Clever. No… cute. She wanted praise so badly she was willing to twist the story like that?’
‘I guess I should give her the feedback she’s craving.’
‘HornyBitchTeacher is typing…’
The reply came without delay. As if she had been waiting for this exact moment, as if the words had already formed in her mind and were now flowing straight from her fingertips.
Her answer no longer hesitated. Every word carried conviction and the awareness of her own corruption. It wasn’t a report anymore. It was a confession.
Reading the message, Kim Mingyu thought:
‘…She tried to become the kind of bitch who gets remembered as jerk-off material.’
He looked down at his phone, lips slowly twisting.
‘Clever girl.’
That only made him want to push her further. He wanted to show a bitch who had already crawled to the bottom exactly where the real bottom was.
‘Let’s make her try even harder. Today, we’ll use her bladder.’
Mingyu slowly moved his fingers. As if she were about to receive a mission she could never have expected.
Outside the window, the Le Silence des Couleurs sign swayed gently in the breeze. The space remained as quiet as its name, but his mind was growing hotter.
“…Controlling urination, huh…”
A few minutes earlier, he had carefully typed keywords into the search bar: Bladder Control Protocol, Micturition Control Training, Psychological Urinary Dominance.
This special domination technique discussed in BDSM communities went far beyond simple urination fetishes or watersports. It was the process of establishing complete dominance over one of the human body’s most basic physiological functions — the autonomic nervous system itself. A psychological reconditioning that placed the relaxation and contraction of the bladder sphincter under the master’s command. A high-level domination skill that could lock and release the body’s own rhythms.
“Deprivation of urinary autonomy.”
It wasn’t a simple order. It was a delicate protocol that reprogrammed the submissive’s bodily functions. And now, that authority would be completely stripped from her.
Mingyu lightly tapped the smartphone screen. That single touch alone sent a surge of tension through his body, the thrill of being a pseudo-dominant.
‘Should I send it… or not…?’
The command was clearly intense. Urine control was the ultimate submission — and a mission he feared she might refuse. Especially since the target was… his own teacher.
“…Isn’t this going too far? This is pretty hardcore, isn’t it…?”
The longer he hesitated, the smaller his “true self” felt. What if she rejected him?
‘God, that would be humiliating…’
‘Even if it’s anonymous… then I’m not a master. I’m just some pervert trying to get off…’
It was strange. She clearly wanted more. She was already wrapping her own lewdness in the excuse of “Master’s orders” and enjoying it, even pushing herself further. The bitch was growing, but he felt stuck.
What was making Kim Mingyu hesitate?
He looked at the screen again. A brief silence. Then a deep breath. He gave himself a suggestion.
‘A bitch needs an excuse to fall. And I’m the one who gives her that excuse.’
Mingyu began typing, slowly but surely.
Now Mingyu had to wait for Song Jiwon’s reaction. At the same time, a thought crossed his mind:
‘If she refuses now… I’ll just act cool, coax her, and try to smooth it over… Ha… idiot…’
It was half self-mockery, half another scene in the scenario he had created. He sent the message anyway. It was a gamble that put his “master’s dignity” on the line.
After receiving the message, Song Jiwon slowly lowered her head. In the quiet, empty staff room, she read each word carefully, as if studying.
“From now on… hold your urine…
Don’t let a single drop fall until I allow it…”
Her pupils trembled slightly. Tension spread across her face like tiny blood vessels. Still, she slowly, carefully moved her lips. No sound came out, but her lips traced the words silently, as if memorizing them.
She closed her eyes and repeated the sentence in her mind.
‘From now on… I have to hold it… urine… not a single drop… ugh… no… what do I do…’
A soft wave rose in her head.
‘I was so nervous this morning… I drank two cups of americano at the café… Should I go to the bathroom now? It hasn’t even started yet…’
‘No. I can’t. The moment Master gave the order, it already began… I want to obey perfectly…’
‘From now on — right now — is when I have to start holding it…’
Song Jiwon crossed her legs and felt her condition. Her bladder was gradually filling. It was only an order to hold her urine, yet she felt a strange excitement.
‘Why does this turn me on so much…?’
‘A man controlling even my most basic bodily functions… and it’s someone I don’t even know…’
Feeling her heart pound steadily, she picked up her phone. A small tremor traveled to her fingertips. Song Jiwon gripped the phone with both hands and began typing. Her fingers tapped rapidly across the screen. She swallowed once, then quietly nodded toward the chat window where no one could see.
With resolve, she sent the message.
After sending the message, Jiwon stared at the smartphone screen for a long time. In front of the Telegram chat that had changed to read, she quietly continued her thoughts, whispering to herself.
‘…I think I prefer it this way.’
‘Master’s reply was slower than usual today, and during that time I felt like I couldn’t bear it. Please… look at this bitch. Look at how faithfully I followed your order… Even though my pussy was getting wet, I didn’t go to the bathroom. Forgetting that I’m a teacher, forgetting that I’m a married woman, I shook my ass on the stairs and deliberately timed it so everyone could see under my skirt. Like a filthy bitch, like a horny bitch, even while panting… I still kept Master’s order. I want to be evaluated. I want to be acknowledged. I want your gaze to always stay on me…’
‘I can do more. Even lewder things. Even more perverted things. So please… look at me like this. As your bitch, as your slave… I want to fall completely.’
(The first illustration and this one are previews of some milder illustrations from the next episode.)