episode_0001

Third year of high school.

Before I met her, my expectations for life were dim. It seemed like no matter what I did, it wouldn’t be very fun, like everything was shrouded in fog.

“Maybe it’s because of the college entrance exam.”

All this country demanded was studying for the college entrance exam.

As proof, whenever I studied, the world seemed so lenient.

Sitting at my desk, if I glanced at a book, my mom kindly brought me fruit. My dad shot me a proud look.

If my test scores improved, everyone was satisfied.

Even my gruff dad couldn’t hide his joy, and my mom burst into a hearty laugh.

Of course, I was happy too.

But those scenes seemed a bit strange to me.

Those with low grades should feel guilty, and those with high grades should feel proud.

A clear world where everything is decided by one score.

In this world, I was just a foreigner who adapted well.

“I’m bored.”

So, I was bored.

Back then, I thought of my life as a train on rails.

It should never derail, and if it even slightly went off track, people around would freak out.

Studying was the fuel that moved me forward, and without it, I’d stay in the same place.

“Isn’t there something fun to do?”

Desperately searching for something to relieve stress on the internet, I stumbled upon a very useful site.

“File Sharing.”

It was an excellent illegal file-sharing method.

Game developers and novelists despised it, but back then, I had no awareness of copyright—

It was a powerful temptation for me at that time.

Masterpiece games.

Entertaining movies.

Sensual adult content.

Anime, romance novels, classic literature…

Undoubtedly, everything a guy needed back then was there.

“This stuff existed in the world?”

It may seem trivial now, but back then, it was revolutionary.

Like a paradise of resources. Every game I played opened up a new world, and there were thousands of them spread out.

I felt a sense of excitement that I could devote my life to it.

At first, I played major games.

Many AAA-rated games. I was crazy about shooting games where I killed people.

But then, I grew tired of it and ventured into classic games.

“And gradually, I fell into corruption.”

Playing classic games led me to play Princess Maker,

Playing Princess Maker led me to try other romance games,

Playing romance games led me to get into anime,

Getting into anime led me to read light novels.

“It’s fun.”

And before I knew it, I found myself delving into bizarre SM genres, embracing love, regret, decadence, obsession, and evaluating myself as someone who indulged in perverse content.

“Ah, I was a bit crazy back then.”

I watched, and watched, and watched some more.

And before I knew it, it was the day of the new school year ceremony.

The sky was a bit gloomy on that day.

March 8th.

My pleasure-seeking brain was urging me to hurry home, turn on the game, and watch adult content.

Dungeon-crawling dragons.

Moon princesses.

Custom-bound slaves.

I had brought back everything from the world, so why couldn’t I have it all? Withdrawal symptoms nagged at my nerves.

Back then, as I twisted my body in longing to go home, hating the public education system,

One event changed my life.

-Drrrring.

Someone opened the classroom door and walked in.

The clacking sound of heels.

Eyes indifferent to everything in the world.

I could only know one fact.

She was our new homeroom teacher.

“Hello.”

Her voice was languid and calmly delivered.

Her voice was a bit unique, and every word that rolled off her tongue from her plump lips and tip of her tongue was understood with precision.

“I’m Yoo Seo-young, the new homeroom teacher for Class 3.”

Yoo Seo-young.

Not quite high heels, but elegant heels that accentuate height and grace.

Legs wrapped in black stockings. A skirt that barely covers the hips in office attire.

A bust trying to burst out of the blouse.

“Please take care of me.”

As she slightly tilted her head and smiled, her brown wavy hair flowed down her neckline.

‘Ah.’

My heart rate quickened, and my body temperature began to rise.

‘She’s beautiful.’

Her sharp eyes were slightly downturned, like a puppy or a cat that evokes sympathy.

There was a subtly seductive aura in her hazy pupils, and below them, a single dot was marked.

A beauty mark.

A single point under her right eye that could make hearts explode just by looking at it.

But, until that moment, I hadn’t fallen for her.

It was what happened afterwards that entangled us and led to love.

The moment she captured my heart was after something that may have seemed a bit perverse to others.

Our school had corporal punishment.

A time when how much your grades improved was more important than discussions on student rights.

If students did something ‘wrong,’ they received ‘punishment’ from the teachers. And if they did something good, they received rewards.

There were various types of punishment.

From maintaining a difficult and embarrassing posture to harsh and fear-inducing corporal punishment.

Even penalties that directly affected college entrance exam scores.

We all feared punishment.

At some point, we all received punishment for our mistakes. The teachers always had the right to strike us.

For not studying.

For showing a rebellious attitude.

For not cleaning the classroom.

They would obediently offer their hands, waiting for the stinging pain to fall upon their palms.

Yoo Seoyoung.

She seemed to enjoy punishment a little.

“What did you do wrong, huh?”

At first, slightly lethargic, as if it was nothing.

She asked the kids what they did wrong with a voice dripping with playfulness and nonchalance.

When they confessed their mistakes in a passive voice.

“I see.”

She would exhale a slightly excited breath.

“From now on, you’ll receive ten strikes.”

She struck with the club the predetermined number of times.

And the first victim was,

Coincidentally, me.

What was the reason again?

I remember it was probably for not cleaning or some trivial reason.

-Smack!

“One, strike.”

The club she wielded hurt like crazy. Each strike left a red mark along with a searing pain, making my heart beat faster each time.

-Smack!

“Two, strikes.”

A slight rise in body temperature.

A feeling of excitement somewhere.

I was definitely not a masochist.

I didn’t understand why I felt this way. My palm hurt, but my heart was pounding. Was it because the teacher was pretty?

Begging for forgiveness with red palms in front of a sexy, slightly intimidating teacher with a soft, seductive voice.

Maybe back then, I was also predisposed to such things.

-Smack!

“Three, strikes.”

In reality, not cleaning for a day wasn’t a big sin. But whenever she looked down at me, I felt like I had to ask for forgiveness.

It was clearly gaslighting to anyone who saw it.

Perhaps that wasn’t love.

Subtle sadism and masochism.

A desire for revenge.

As I received punishment, I daydreamed about scenarios where I would kneel before the homeroom teacher, slap her cheek, and force her to eat my spit… fantasies that would never come true.

The delusion that the teacher enjoyed returning the pain I received was so sweet that it made me excited.

“There were physical reasons too.”

The G-cup breasts that shook with each strike.

Just looking at them made me quite happy.

At that time, I didn’t realize it, but I was already halfway to becoming her slave.

“Seriously, now that I think about it, he’s such a pervert.”

-Thwack!

“Three, four.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly.

-Thwack!

But it was the fourth time.

An accident had occurred.

My palm was slightly torn, blood starting to seep out.

“Huh?”

The teacher gasped.

Her eyes widened.

She tried to maintain a calm expression, but up close, it was clear she was flustered and out of breath.

“There’s blood.”

“B-Blood.”

The students murmured in shock.

It seemed like the teacher was experiencing something like this for the first time.

Yeah. It may sound strange, but the one who took my virginity was her.

“She might be surprised.”

A more experienced teacher might have continued to wave the blood-stained ruler or said they wouldn’t hit anymore.

Yoo Seoyoung chose a completely different approach.

“Seonghyun, come to the faculty room.”

As if she would do something about it. She called me to the faculty room.

.

.

.

I hesitantly entered the faculty room. There was blood on my hands.

I felt a little uneasy.

Normally, I should be angry, but the person in front of me was too beautiful, making forgiveness possible… realizing the security vulnerability of the male species.

She said, “I’m sorry. Does it hurt a lot?”

Looking at me as if she didn’t know I would be in pain. Her eyes evoked sympathy.

“How can she make such a face?”

It looked a bit pitiful, but it was a face that evoked sympathy.

Having lived a somewhat pitiful and sympathetic life, she made a face that asked for more torment. Bloodlust and submission. The face of a female that suited obedience.

It was lovely.

“No.”

“Oh, really? Did it hurt a lot?”

And then, she smiled as if seizing the opportunity, which was also beautiful.

Since ancient times, it was okay for a beauty to be shameless.

“Can I hit you harder next time?”

She put a band-aid on my palm. The feeling of her soft white hand passing over was beautiful, but…

“Can I hit you harder?”

The tension felt from that question, as if my heart would break, was good.

Teacher and student. Older sister and younger brother inflicting pain and apologizing.

And the process of comforting each other’s wounds was good.

I hurt you, but because I love you, I will comfort you. I will try to understand and heal your pain.

That sentiment. Perhaps the slightly twisted tendency blossomed from that moment.

And at that moment.

I happened to glance at her monitor, and familiar things caught my eye.

Custom Slave Fantasy. Dungeon Master Dragon. Princess of the Moon.

A serious otaku was right in front of me.

“Oh, teacher. What’s this?”

That was the first time the teacher’s mask cracked.

Her cheeks were a deep red, and her trembling hands covered the laptop.

It was cute.

“Oh.”

You were one of us.

I found a reason to go to school.