Taming the Timid Kitty
"Wh-what can I do for you...?"
The pink kitty stammered, hunching in on herself like she was trying to disappear. When someone's naturally skittish like that, throwing them suspicious glances could get you pegged as a creep in no time. I watched the staffer—pure picture of a wary stray cat—for a moment, then smoothed out my expression and bowed my head politely.
"Hello. You must be new..."
I flashed a gentle smile with my greeting, and her eyes went wide as saucers. She finally opened her mouth.
"Ah, ah! You're the regular who comes by a lot..."
She must've heard about me from the other employees she'd met before. The timid kitty broke into a full-faced grin, her own smile awkward but genuine.
"Yeah... so where'd the other staff go?"
"Th-they all... quit..."
"What? Something happen?"
"It, uh... sales weren't good..."
She fidgeted, looking all flustered at my question. That spineless vibe, the pitiful drenched-kitten look—it had my cock twitching before I knew it.
Pushy types like me can devour girls like her in a heartbeat... hmm.
She'd normally be the standoffish type, hard to approach by nature. But knowing I was a frequent customer at the alchemy guild lowered her defenses just enough to stir up my greed.
As I'd sensed before, alchemy in this world was some niche pursuit for weirdos. No matter how great the potions were hyped up from other realms, they were worthless here—treated like total garbage. I couldn't help but smirk.
Hair growth potion's just one of the useless fringe ones here, after all.
From what I'd dug up while scouting to sell the stuff, the whole reason hair growth potions got invented was simple: cash. Folks wanted to mass-harvest rare furs and hair—like Tier's magnificent tail or Daphne's elven locks—to turn a profit. But the world doesn't work that easy; if it did, every tom, dick, and harry would be rolling in it.
Rare goods need time to stay rare, right? The potion blew up at launch, but it didn't deliver on growing the targeted hair—it just sprouted annoying fuzz everywhere. So it tanked hard into obscurity. That's the state of things now.
If this were just a human-only world full of baldies like back home, maybe. But here? Lizardmen without a hair on 'em mixed with every other race in the melting pot.
Healing potions? Useless with a heal spell. Buff potions? Freebies as long as the party's mage has mana. Ironic as hell.
Magic booms, alchemy piggybacks off it, then advanced magic makes alchemy obsolete. No wonder the whole field's dying. I gave a wry smile at the global backdrop dooming it.
"Man... hard to put it nicely."
"H-ha... yeah..."
She scratched her temple, mirroring my bitter look with an awkward mumble. The guild air grew thicker with cringe by the second.
I'd bedded my share of women, but this was a first—one who just got more painfully awkward the longer we talked. Shaking my head, I pressed on.
No matter how cringy it got, I trusted my skills.
Whatever. Snag her, and it'll work out.
With that timid personality, stepping up to the counter after everyone else bailed? She had to be a legit guild alchemist, even if entry-level, handling potion brewing.
The junk I planned to flood the real world with was all low-grade anyway—stuff like hair growth potions. Didn't need top performance, didn't cost a fortune. She seemed perfect for my needs.
Plus, she's a pink one.
Forget the rest—her pink hair had me nodding on instinct.
While the timid kitty rolled her eyes in the awkward silence, too frozen to act, I seized the gap to scan her from head to toe.
She flinched, lips twitching, but then squeezed her eyes shut like she'd steeled herself for duty and blurted it out.
"D-do you n-need anything?!"
Her trembling cuteness—different from Park Jisu's flavor—tugged my lips into a grin. Trying so hard, but screwing up and blushing crimson, eyes misting up... adorable as fuck.
Teasing her all day would've been prime, but you build rapport first or it backfires. I chuckled carefully, not mocking.
"Yeah. Here for hair growth potion."
"Hair growth...?"
"Yep."
She blinked at me, eyes puzzled, flicking between my face and hair.
Everything she thought showed on her body. I kept going.
"Oh, not for me. I like tinkering with experiments. No stock left, is there?"
This guild branch was on its last legs—even the counter girl's about to bolt. No way they're out of stock.
"N-no! I made some yesterday... plenty in stock!"
"Cool. Gimme about a hundred bottles, then?"
"P-pardon...?"
Clink.
What's the key to conquering a broke, pitiful girl like this? Money.
Clinging to a dead-end like alchemy after the staff fled? She's gotta have some passion for it. And with that comes costs: materials, living expenses, personal research funds.
Money she always needs but never has. What happens when a sugar daddy steps in to bankroll it all? How's this prime timid kitty gonna change?
Turn into a full-on sugar baby? Curious.
The guild was crumbling, staff down to a skeleton crew. I could muscle in and take what I want, no fallout. But her mousy vibe made me wanna play sugar daddy instead.
Hiding my lecherous thoughts, I plunked a fat stack of gold coins on the counter and waited. The kitty gawked, mouth agape—first time seeing high-denom currency from a guy who'd only bought cheap reagents before. Her pink tongue lolled long in that open maw.
I drank it in.
Cat tongues got barbs, right...?
Maybe, maybe not—but soft enough it didn't matter, neat teeth too. Looked built for killer head. A nerdy catgirl on her knees, sucking off her sugar daddy... drool-worthy.
"H-hah!"
Stared too long at her lewdly gaping mouth? She snapped to, startled, wiped her lips frantically, then timidly scooped up the gold.
"O-order for 100 hair growth potions received!"
"Wait, not just that—one question."
"Ask away!"
Endorphins pumping? Her limp pink tail swished up her back. Pupils contracted to slits like a real cat's—prime viewing. In this diverse world, every reaction from her felt fresh.
"From what I hear, one bottle restores most fur or hair to original state. Any way to weaken it?"
"Uh... dilution ratio?"
"Yeah. Ideally, back to pre-application after a week or two."
Her face lit up, thrilled to field a big customer's question. Nothing like the slumped wreck I'd walked in on.
Loyal regular once, my passive charm twice, cash knockout three times—it melted her guard, blooming her womanly allure. Good call skipping the force; smug satisfaction hit me.