Conquering the Exhibitionist Kim Minji

Kang Minu slammed the front door shut with a creak and a heavy bang. The studio apartment, just over three hundred thirty square feet, greeted him at a glance. Discarded cup-ramen containers from several days ago littered the floor alongside textbooks he no longer bothered to open. The entire place reeked of stale bachelorhood—his private little den.

Normally the sight would have plunged him into ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠depression. But not today.

“Hehet♡”

Today was different. He didn’t bother washing up or changing; he simply sprawled out across the living-room floor. His heart hammered against his ribs hard enough to crack them. It had been a while since he left the convenience store, yet the excitement refused to fade. If anything, it only swelled hotter with every passing minute.

He pointed his smartphone at the ceiling.

“Situation locked and loaded. Time to taste that Bill Gates flavor.”

Kim Minji. That arrogant bitch who always looked at him like a cockroach. Short as hell but carrying a rack that defied physics. And her true nature?

“A raging exhibitionist who gets off on showing herself to strangers, huh?”

Fantasies boiled up inside him like lava. Part of him wanted to sprint straight to the bathroom, but…

“…….”

He forced himself to shelve anything involving Kim Minji for the moment. Calmly. The priority was obvious.

First, he needed to examine the app properly.

With trembling fingers Kang Minu launched it. Black background, blood-red icon. PANDORA. The moment it opened, a sleek yet somehow slimy UI flooded the screen. He scoured every single function with feverish intensity.

DP stood for Dopamine Points. The name was brutally straightforward. Given how it had risen by ten points at a time earlier, the method of earning it was equally obvious.

“Just fill the other person with dopamine, right? Confirmed.”

Only then did a twinge of disappointment hit him. The thousand DP welcome bonus he had received upon signing up was already gone—spent on some strange skill and on scanning Kim Minji. All that remained was the measly hundred DP that had trickled in whenever she looked at him with contempt.

A hundred DP?

“Who the hell is this even enough for?”

Whatever. He tapped the shop icon.

As expected, nothing in the glittering lineup could be bought with a mere hundred DP. He closed the shop with a sigh of satisfaction at simply having checked, then moved on to the skill tab.

The list was enormous, but again, nothing was remotely affordable. Then one entry caught his eye.

The dense cluster of tags that had been plastered all over Kim Minji’s head earlier had clearly come from this skill. He kept browsing until another entry made him freeze.

The description promised literal bodily rebirth. If it worked as advertised, he would emerge as an entirely new man. But the price was the problem. Two thousand DP. At ten DP per contemptuous glare from Minji, he would need to be insulted two hundred times just to afford it.

“Why is nothing in this world free?” he muttered.

Still, he now understood the app completely. The core truth was simple: DP was everything. With enough of it, he could become a god of a new world, a time-traveling robot cat, or even a dragon that bought mermaids at auction. The only problem was how to farm it.

The obvious path was to target Kim Minji’s desires. Every time he satisfied one, DP would flow in. The fatal flaw, however, was time. Accumulating two thousand DP at ten points per encounter would take forever, and their contact outside work was almost nonexistent. Today’s meeting had only happened because he had covered someone’s morning shift.

Confessing his feelings was out of the question; she already found him repulsive.

Yet the body-modification skill offered a glimmer of hope. If he could become an alpha male first, maybe—just maybe—he could create the opening he needed. Once that door opened, satisfying her fetishes would become far easier, and the DP would pour in.

But to buy the skill he needed DP. To earn DP he needed to satisfy her. A perfect ouroboros. A chicken-and-egg dilemma with no exit.

Until a single lightning bolt of insight seared across his mind.

“…Hehahahaha!!!”

He shot upright with a wild cackle. The message he had seen on Kim Minji’s phone right before leaving the convenience store—the very reason he had almost run to the bathroom earlier.

“Fuck… what was it? @horny_rabbit, right?”

Like a man possessed, he opened Twitter and typed the handle. The single second of loading felt like a year. Then the results appeared.

The profile picture was a deep shot of cleavage. But the real shock was the most recent upload. The background was instantly familiar—the cramped, musty storage room of their convenience store. The subject, however, looked like an entirely different person.

It was definitely Kim Minji. The small mole on her left breast was unmistakable. But the pose was anything but ordinary. She sat on a cardboard box with her knees spread wide, shirt hem clenched between her teeth, completely exposing her upper body. A bra that seemed one size too small struggled to contain her heavy, overflowing breasts, the soft flesh spilling over the cups in glistening mounds under the dim storeroom light.

His gaze traveled lower. Her skirt had been hiked up past her hips, revealing the full length of her smooth thighs and the delicate line of her groin. Three slender fingers rested over her most private area—not quite hiding it, but deliberately framing it, drawing the eye. Between those fingers, the edge of her panties was visibly soaked, a thin, sticky strand of fluid catching the light.

Kang Minu enlarged the photo with a dry swallow. Twenty-seven years of dedicated solo activity let him declare with absolute certainty: that was not sweat. It was arousal.

“You crazy bitch…”

Prim and proper in front of the boss, icy and disdainful toward him—yet in secret she was a bitch in heat. The realization that this was a coworker from the same store, the same neighborhood, only made his blood burn hotter.

“So you’ve been sneaking into our sacred workplace to finger yourself, huh?”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He bolted for the bathroom. But the moment he yanked his pants down and wrapped his hand around his throbbing length, the full ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠caption of the post finally registered.

The comments were flooded with the same desperate male howling he felt. But the caption itself had named him—indirectly, yet unmistakably. “Smelly degenerate pig part-timer.” There was only one person that could possibly refer to.

His initial rage cooled almost instantly. Instead, the corner of his mouth slowly curled upward.

How should I cook this bitch?

He saved every single photo and video from the account as evidence. There was no longer any doubt it belonged to Kim Minji. Barging in and blackmailing her immediately was tempting, but that was the plot of cheap thrillers. In reality, if she reported him, the world would side with the pretty female college student over the loser part-timer.

Besides, why kill the golden goose?

Ignoring the account entirely carried zero risk for him—and endless material for the rest of his life. After long consideration, he reached a single conclusion.

He had to bind her so deeply she could never escape.

—

10 a.m. The convenience store was quiet. The morning rush had ended; customers had dried up. For a part-timer it was both a blessing and a bore.

Kim Minji sat crookedly on the counter stool, chin in her hand.

“Ugh, I’m so bored…”

Out of habit she opened Twitter. The response to her latest upload was explosive. Just reading the comments made it obvious what hundreds of men were doing with her photo right now.

“Please let me smell your feet? Pfft, what a pervert…”

Her lips scolded, but the corners of her mouth kept rising. The thrill was real. A sharp, electric tingle spread through her lower belly. In real life she was an ordinary nursing student, but on that account she was nothing less than a queen. Hundreds of men worshipped her breasts; some even begged for a glimpse of her panties. That sense of superiority, that flood of attention—it was the drug that made her boring daily life bearable.

She glanced around the store. No customers in sight. She had long since memorized every blind spot of the CCTV.

It’s boring… maybe just one more shot?

Her hand moved as if drawn by a magnet, sliding down between her legs. The counter was far riskier than the storage room, but that very danger melted her brain with sweet heat. The terror of being caught. The depravity of exposing her most secret place in such a public spot.

Just once… really just once…

She crouched behind the counter, hiding her body. She boldly rolled her short skirt all the way to her waist. Pale, flawless thighs spilled into view. Because of the squatting position, the soft flesh of her inner thighs pressed together and spread outward. At their center lay a thin pair of white lace panties already damp from earlier teasing. The fabric had turned translucent, clinging to every delicate fold.

Her rational mind screamed that this was too dangerous.

“Haa… you’re crazy, Kim Minji…”

But her heated instincts had already taken the wheel. One hand squeezed her heavy breast through her thin shirt, savoring the full, pliant weight she had been envied for since puberty. A soft moan escaped her.

“Mmh-♡”

With the other hand she slid her phone beneath her, aiming the camera upward in the most vulgar, explicit low-angle possible. She spread her legs wider. Even though she kept herself neatly groomed for her photos, a single stray hair peeked from the edge of her panties. The glistening trail of arousal on the fabric was unmistakable. The thought that thousands would see this obscene image of her pushed her arousal even higher.

Then her phone vibrated against the floor.

Startled, she snatched it up and pressed it to her chest, quickly silencing the vibration. She popped her head above the counter like a meerkat and scanned the store. No one. With a sigh of relief she checked the screen.

“Shit, I forgot to turn off Telegram notifications. That was close.”

But the pop-up that appeared froze her in place.

At first she thought it was just another random message from a follower. Then the implication hit her.

I… haven’t uploaded that yet…?

Her pupils shook violently. The phone vibrated again. With trembling hands she opened the new message.

All color drained from Kim Minji’s face.