The Bitch Who Mocked Min-gyu in Front of Her Master
After leaving the restroom, Min-gyu’s steps down the hallway felt impossibly light. It was as if he were walking on air, his feet barely touching the floor. He was no longer just another student attending class. He was BitchMaster69, and Song Ji-won was now his bitch.
When he opened the classroom door and stepped inside, Song Ji-won’s gaze flicked toward him for a moment. Her expression remained perfectly normal, so Min-gyu quietly took his seat as though nothing had happened. His heart was still racing, yet not a single tremor showed on his face. If anything, he moved even more slowly and casually than usual.
“I’m back.”
Min-gyu greeted her in his usual awkward, clumsy manner, deliberately putting on an even more vacant, dazed expression than normal. Song Ji-won gave a light nod and glanced briefly at his pants. A faint, pale stain had spread along the side of his thigh. It was obviously the semen he had just shot in the restroom, but she didn’t notice it at all.
‘What did he even manage to spill on himself…’
She muttered inwardly without much thought. Min-gyu clearly had talent for drawing, but he always carried an unsettling, gloomy aura. Because of that, she felt a strange distance from him despite his skill, and even that white stain somehow felt more unpleasant than it should.
She never once imagined it was the “cum” he had spilled while picturing himself pounding her pussy.
Just then, a vibration sounded from inside Song Ji-won’s bag. She usually kept her phone on silent during class, but she never turned off the vibration. Her fingers paused. She hesitated for a second, then decided the bell was about to ring and carefully pulled out her phone.
A new message notification glowed on the screen.
Sender: BitchMaster69.
Song Ji-won’s pupils trembled. Her face flushed crimson in an instant, heat spreading all the way to the backs of her hands. She quickly shoved the phone back into her bag. Her heart pounded wildly, and a sharp, tingling sensation pulled at her between her legs. Receiving a message like that in the middle of class, right in front of her students, made her feel dizzy. Yet she calmly scanned the classroom. Every student was focused on their work. Min-gyu, too, had his head down over his sketchbook, drawing something. Relief washed over her, quickly twisting into a strange thrill.
‘Thank goodness. No one saw. But… why is my chest pounding so hard?’
She steadied her breathing and spoke in an even voice. “Alright, that’s it for today’s class. Make sure to practice more figure drawing before next time.”
When the bell rang, students began packing up. Amid the casual chatter and laughter, the boys’ eyes still quietly licked over Song Ji-won’s body. The thin blouse brushing against her breasts, the tight skirt clinging to the curve of her hips, the flash of stocking and thigh beneath the short hem. Their gazes looked ready to flip her skirt up and tear it apart, hands already reaching beneath her underwear in their minds. In their imaginations, Song Ji-won was already sprawled across the teacher’s desk, blouse twisted around her chest, legs spread as the boys took turns pounding into her. One would grab her hair and shove his cock down her throat while another gripped her waist and thrust from behind. Those eyes devoured her with invisible tongues, tasting every inch of skin.
Min-gyu quietly gathered his things and stood. He walked as casually as the others, yet his gaze carried unmistakable ease. When he passed the teacher’s desk and glanced at Song Ji-won, his eyes were those of a master looking down at a conquered female. A faint smile played on his lips. She still had no idea what was being done to her.
Song Ji-won returned to the staff room and sank into her chair. Even the simple motion of setting her bag down felt clumsy. Her fingertips trembled slightly. When she reached for a pen, her fingers refused to grip it properly. It was as if that single message had shattered her balance, leaving a faint vibration still echoing through her body. She glanced around cautiously. The nearest English teacher, Kim Tae-hyun, was scribbling furiously with a red pen. The math teacher by the window, Park Jung-min, had his phone to his ear and was leaning against the sill, deep in conversation. The others were buried in monitors or paperwork. None of them paid any attention to her state or her gaze. No one knew what message her phone had received inside that bag, or how violently it had made her tremble.
Of course, the occasional glance still slid over the line of her thighs. Some eyes drifted down her neckline and lingered on the cleavage visible through her blouse. She ignored them with her usual blank expression. But inside her head, thoughts tangled more loudly than ever.
After a short breath, Song Ji-won carefully slipped her hand into her bag. Once she confirmed no one was watching, her fingers closed around her phone and drew it out. She tapped in her password, opened Telegram, and immediately tapped the chat with BitchMaster69.
After sending the message, Song Ji-won set the phone on her desk but couldn’t tear her eyes away from the screen. She lightly bit her lip and unconsciously tugged at the hem of her skirt, releasing it, then tugging again. The staff room had never felt so alien and dizzying.
A few minutes later, the words “BitchMaster69 is typing…” appeared at the top of the screen. Her heart lurched again at the sight.
The moment she read it, Song Ji-won reflexively crossed her legs. Her skirt rode up, exposing the upper line of her thighs. The firm silhouette wrapped in stockings unconsciously drew the eye. It was exactly as he said. One message from him sent a sharp throb through her lower belly. She could feel the small spark of arousal spreading. She lowered her head again and typed quickly.
After sending, she set the phone down for a moment. Yet her fingertips had already gathered between her thighs. With her legs crossed, she squeezed her thighs together and slowly rubbed without even realizing she was doing it. The motion was almost unconscious. The noise of the staff room and the movements of the other teachers had become distant background. Her entire focus was locked on the man’s words inside that small screen.
Sitting on the bench near the cafeteria, Min-gyu’s lips curved upward the instant he read her reply. Song Ji-won’s cautious sentences and hesitant tone were like the perfect submission of a pet dog, giving him the greatest pleasure. He moved his fingers slowly, each word he typed dripping with mockery.
After sending, Min-gyu looked around. Everyone was either eating or focused on their own tasks. None of them could imagine that this gloomy student was currently exchanging messages about their teacher’s pussy over Telegram. He continued typing.
Song Ji-won’s phone vibrated on the desk. She snatched it up in surprise. The moment she read the message, her ears and cheeks burned red. Shame, arousal, and the tension of possibly being caught all tightened around her throat at once.
Her fingers trembled, yet even that trembling felt like a prelude mixed with pleasure. The simple fact that she was having this secret conversation in a public space had already pushed her more than halfway into arousal. Min-gyu decided it was time to move to the next phase.
Song Ji-won’s eyes widened. She reflexively checked her surroundings again. Thankfully, no one was looking at her phone screen. The other teachers were all occupied elsewhere.
The question was light, but the nuance inside it stirred Song Ji-won’s nerves. She stared at the screen and lightly bit her lip. Min-gyu’s words weren’t simple curiosity. They felt like a dominant’s neurotic need for control. She began composing her reply one line at a time.
Min-gyu’s lips twitched, but he kept his composure and typed.
Min-gyu’s hand trembled. His finger joints stiffened, and his thumb slipped slightly on the screen. He forced his emotions down.
The pen in Min-gyu’s hand snapped. Ink splattered across the floor. Something hot began to burn inside him.
‘This fucking bitch… I looked like that to her?’
He clenched his teeth, but his expression didn’t change. The conversation continued.
Min-gyu’s fingers tightened around the phone. He had stayed up nights writing papers on Rubens and copying his paintings. This woman was mocking all that passion and time.
Min-gyu’s face went pale. Small height, scrawny build—he knew all of it better than anyone.
Min-gyu gripped the phone harder without realizing it. His knuckles turned white, veins rising on the back of his hand. He had respected Song Ji-won. He had admired the look in her eyes when she taught art, her passion, her voice. But now she was mocking all of it.
Min-gyu drew a deep breath. Hold it in. It wasn’t time yet. He suppressed himself.
Min-gyu’s hand shook. He quietly, slowly ground his teeth.
‘How the hell am I going to break this fucking bitch…’
Min-gyu’s mind boiled. All the respect, admiration, and even the faint affection he had once held for her had turned into blades of betrayal, slicing through his chest. But he quickly reined in his emotions. It still wasn’t the right time to unleash this anger. The moment the woman he had come to despise most realized she had been thoroughly trained by the very person she looked down on—that shock would be a far more exhilarating revenge.
‘I can’t slit the golden goose’s belly just yet.’
Min-gyu slowly inhaled and placed his hand on the screen.
The sudden question made Song Ji-won’s eyes widen. The topic shift was too abrupt, and the subject itself was far too embarrassing.
Her fingers hesitated for a moment, but she soon tapped the screen again.
Min-gyu’s eyebrow twitched. The very existence of this “husband” she spoke of irritated him in a strange way.
Min-gyu vividly recalled that photo. It had been the very moment their relationship began.
Min-gyu watched the conversation, feeling the anger inside him slowly mix with something else. A lonely, abandoned woman. Desires ignored and suppressed. Those emotions were both an opportunity and a weapon to him.
Min-gyu fell into thought. The irony of comforting the woman he despised felt strangely like part of his plan. To completely break her, he first had to make her feel completely safe and dependent on him.
Min-gyu’s fingertips moved in rhythm. His words struck like precisely aimed bullets straight into Song Ji-won’s heart. Telling a woman exhausted by loneliness that he was the man who “understood” her was the fastest and surest way to dominate her.
Song Ji-won sat in the middle of the staff room, fingertips trembling as she read the message. Her eyes grew hot. Something in the center of her chest felt like it was melting. She couldn’t even remember the last time someone had understood her this deeply.
Min-gyu smiled. It wasn’t a gentle smile.
‘Never met? You see me sitting in front of you every single day.’
But he swallowed that truth and prepared the next words to pull her even deeper.
After reading the messages, Kim Min-gyu snorted. His face remained expressionless, yet a thick sneer escaped his lips.
‘Doesn’t pay attention? You’re the hottest piece of ass in this entire school. You know it too. The way you flaunt yourself during class—you’re doing it on purpose. And now you’re crying? You were just crying with your pussy a minute ago… typical bitch.’
He quietly slipped the phone into his pocket. Lifting his head, he gazed at the sky and drew a deep breath. What command should he give Song Ji-won next? How should he make her use the very “Kim Min-gyu” she despised most? His mind tangled with complicated thoughts. It wasn’t simple excitement or anger. It was a heavy silence holding a trace of emptiness, a trace of pleasure, and something that would soon erupt.