I don't know why I used to like chemistry class. No, actually, I know. Looking at the professor, all the girls in our class like him, not the course. Tyne is really handsome, with a gentle temperament that makes him approachable.
But now I'm barely holding back a feeling of nausea. It is not only because my world is not as simple as a binary world anymore. Even though the black and white shades have mixed to produce grey fortunately not of a strong shade, it is not the reason for that sensation.
Tyne's eyes fall this way from time to time. They should have been on Emmie beside me most of the time, but that is the thing. I don't know if his ego is seeing me as a challenge.
'Lockdream girl is different this year. Her eyes have changed, but that makes it more interesting. Smaller is not bad. Smaller doesn't mean lacking. I will get her to lose the calm in her eyes. Pain or pleasure, I will turn her into a woman, mold her to my shape, body and mind, and keep her beneath me. This time, I will keep a pet. No, two pets, two friends, that will be more interesting. They will entertain me together. Just, who will be at the top and who will be below? She has been asking about my tutoring class, so it will not be long before she comes to me herself.'
The class is continuing normally, but beyond the calm smiling face and the rhythmic voice, all I can see is the distorted eyes in the middle of the twisted face, the lips being licked, the excitement kept just below the threshold.
His thoughts are quite vivid, more vivid than I'm used to when I'm reading minds. It is more like when others feel strongly and project their thoughts and feelings out for me to capture. I want to wonder whether it is because he is a telepath, with his brain different from common people. I don't have any reference, not with the last telepath I met broadcasting his thoughts to me at that time.
However, the things in Tyne's head go from simple words to images. I used to pick up about sixty to seventy percent of thoughts focused on the class, with the rest wandering into predatory thoughts shifting from Emmie whose body he has been lusting after to me, who is apparently becoming the main course for his meal.
Now, he is transitioning into images. It is the class that is becoming a distraction for him, not the other way around. He is imagining himself… with me… naked… and tied.
Anger should have been simmering just below the surface, and it is there, right beside the disgust, but I suddenly feel detached. He does quite a good job imagining the shape of my breasts, but details are off, like the size and color of my areolas, the shape and size of my nipples, and even the shape of my button belly. So even though he is imagining how he will squeeze me to the point of making me cry in pain, how he will twist my erect nipples, how he will… clamp my clit, only my repulsion is growing.
At some point, he is imagining himself fapping off in his mind. I won't deny that he has a well-shaped body, and I'm 'seeing' a cock for the first time in this life, but I feel indifferent. Actually, not indifferent, intrigued.
Though it is just an image in Tyne's head, I'm getting a weird feeling I can't quite put into words. I would have gotten the same feeling had I been seeing a male appendage on an adult site. It is like a comparison that brings me closer to what I used to have in a previous life and what I have now.
Even my nauseous feeling takes a backseat. It is just plain interesting to watch the imagined spectacle, morbidly fascinating, maybe? Did I look like that when I masturbated before?
The fascination makes me watch to the end where he ejaculates on his projection of me, and I wrinkle my nose. In his mind, at that time, I'm twisted from the pain and pleasure he inflicted on me, painted to his color. Then he moves me on top of the naked, more shapely Emmie and makes us play with each other.
The scene makes something stir in me. Interest? Desire? I… can't quite tell. I'm really going down a rabbit hole, though that hole seems to have become normalized nowadays. I turn to look at Emmie beside me. She is clothed, and focused, though more on the teacher himself than on what he is saying.
The unidentifiable feeling spread in my mind, only for an image to interrupt me and bring back all the nausea-inducing repulsion from earlier.
Tyne imagines himself putting the crotches of us two girls together, and aligns himself behind us.
Hurgh!!!
I cut off my connection with the rich, imaginative mind of the pervert in front of the class. I stand up and leave the classroom. I don't ask for permission. I don't believe I can look at that guy in the face without showing anything.
I'm glad Liz sent over milk everyday even though she stayed at the hospital. I drink from my water bottle to wash the bad taste off.
I hear noise from behind and I see Emmie running after me when I turn around. She is worried about me, but the first thing she does is to snatch my bottle and finally try the drink that has been making her curious for days.
"Emmie! You!"
I glare at her, but with more helplessness than anger. By pulling the bottle while I'm drinking from it she splashed me with the white liquid inside. And worse of all, she doesn't seem to care.
"This… Max, what kind of milk is this? It feels different."
This time, my glare is stronger, and I snatch the bottle back.
"The kind of milk that can make you a cow if you drink too much. Humph."
"Hehe. Are you alright? You seemed uncomfortable when you hurried out of the class."
I exhale.
"I'm alright. After school, let's ask the chemistry teacher for the schedule of the tutoring."
"Hehe, you are too late. I asked him, and he said he will start with helping you and I before he will see if he will open the class to more students of our grade."
That answer chills me.