The lock clicked behind them, sealing Kesaki and the glasses-wearing nerd in the dusty storage closet. The screams outside were muffled. Here, only their panicked breaths echoed. Kesaki’s toxic pink eyes, devoid of pupil or shine, fixed on him. Her long, messy black hair, with its separate, wayward curls, brushed against her ass over her long pleated skirt.

“You’re safe with me,” she whispered, her voice a singsong contrast to the chaos.

He recoiled, back hitting shelves. “Get away, you psycho.”

She stepped closer, the sheer brown-black tights on her slim legs whispering. “They don’t understand us.” Her hand shot out, pinning his wrist. He was nerdy, disheveled, clumsy—everything she craved. “You look at other girls. It hurts.”

“You’re disgusting,” he spat, trying to pull away.

Her other hand slid up his thigh, feeling the tremble. “Shhh.” She pressed her body against him, her full tits in the school uniform blouse crushing against his chest. He gasped. She could smell his fear, his sweat. It was intoxicating. Her fingers found his belt, working the buckle with practiced ease despite his fumbling resistance.

“W-what are you doing?!”

“Making you see,” she breathed into his neck. She yanked his pants and boxers down to his ankles. His cock, half-hard from adrenaline and terror, sprung free. Kesaki licked her lips. “Mine.”

She dropped to her knees on the concrete floor, ignoring the grime. Before he could protest