Slipping In Read online

  “Enjoy the peek?” she asked.

  “Fuck you,” he said.

  “No thanks. That’s Amy’s job.”

  He flopped back onto his bed and rolled onto his side, ignoring her soft laughter.

  “Go on, laugh. It won’t be so funny when I tell them about Amy, will it?”

  “Like they’d believe you. Please.”

  “Go to hell, Kyla. You think you’re so clever, so sneaky. You’re just lucky because you’re a girl. Try being me for once. It’s bullshit.”

  “Cry me a river. You don’t have a clue what my life is like. Stay the hell out of my bedroom, ‘kay?”

  The words stung. It was true. He didn’t have a clue what her life was like, anymore. “Whatever...” he muttered. “Nice job with your logs, by the way.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Well, don’t think my logs are the only logs I know how to fake. I can just as easily make dad think you’re enjoying Trailer Sluts 5 up here. Or actually, Backroom Boytoys is probably more your speed, huh?”

  Mike sat up and glared at her. She glared back, amusement gone. So much for his fond memories of their playtimes together. He missed the Kyla that was on his side, the one that he could talk to about anything. What a raging, epic bitch she’d turned into.

  Then she thumped her hand twice on the doorframe, smiling sweetly again. “Well, I’m going to go jack back in. Can’t get enough of these great adventure stories. I hope you have sweet dreams, Mikey.” She grinned. “As long as they’re, you know, rated PG.”

  Her laughter floated down the hallway as she returned to her room, leaving Mike alone in the dark. He thought about jacking back in, but it didn’t seem nearly as appealing, suddenly. Why was life so unfair?

  Beseeching

  The next day at school was miserable, as usual. Grey, gloomy hallways matched the grey, gloomy sky outside, and Mike’s classes crawled by in a dreary procession of formulas, facts, and dates that he could barely pay any attention to. His mind was elsewhere, focused on concocting his own imagined scenes lifted out of Kyla and Amy’s secret virtchat sessions, except in his imagination it was Christy Parker and Amy, and he was there between them... no, he was Christy. That was even hotter. Wearing her little cheerleader outfit, bouncing those perky breasts up and down, rubbing those silky thighs together as she writhed against Amy’s soft fingers... He realized he was swelling beneath his desk and he blushed, glancing around quickly to see if anyone else had noticed. No one had, of course. Who would ever pay any attention to boring little Mike Wantry?

  If they noticed him at all, they knew him as Kyla’s brother. It was humiliating that his sister was way more popular than he was. Not that that was her fault, he supposed. Mike was basically invisible. He heard them talk about Kyla in the locker room all the time, like he wasn’t even there. “Hey, did you get a load of Kyla Wantry today?” Pete Wills would say.

  And then some other meathead would grin back, replying, “More like Kyla Wants-it, huh? God, the tits on that girl...”

  Then they’d all join in: “I could teach her a thing or two, if she ever gets bored of that Amy chick...”

  “Why wait? I’d just show her my dick and she’d come running to gobble it up.”

  “In your dreams!”

  “Nah, in my dreams I’d be bending her over a table, like this...”

  But it wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that Mike couldn’t help but feel a little... jealous? The talk was embarrassing, but he’d bet no one talked about him that way in the girls’ locker room. Just one more example of how Kyla had everything he didn’t: the looks, the attention, their parents’ trust. He wondered if she even knew how lucky she was.

  At lunch, if she wasn’t off hanging out with Amy, she sat with the cool kids. That was where she was today, right next to the table where Chuck Higgins and all his cronies hung out. Chuck’s arm draped over the shoulders of Christy Parker, of course, but Mike saw that he was fixated on Kyla’s table, stealing sidelong glances down her shirt whenever Christy wasn’t looking. Everyone knew Chuck had a thing for Kyla. If Kyla noticed, she didn’t seem to care.

  Mike grabbed a tray, got in the lunch line, and shuffled along, watching them. Up ahead of him a lunch lady in a frumpy gray frock was serving food to kids as they passed by her, but Mike’s attention was on Kyla. She was smiling, laughing about something with Amy right now.

  What wouldn’t Mike give to be sitting in Kyla’s shoes, or even in Christy’s? He wished somebody would look at him the way Chuck looked at them, even if it was a weird thing to wish. He shook his head, suddenly embarrassed. Why did he think those things, feel those things? If only there was someone he could talk to about it... but there was no way he was going to tell anyone he was jealous of some girls. They’d just call him gay, make fun of him, and he’d feel worse than ever. Why did his body have to feel so awkward and stupid to him? Did other people feel this way and just hide it better?

  “I can tell,” said the lunch lady.

  Mike jumped, startled. She was standing in front of him, smiling from under her hair net. He felt a flush creeping up the back of his neck.

  “Uh... tell what?” he asked.

  “Tell that you want the burger,” she said, shoving a hamburger onto his tray. “Boys always want their meat.” Behind her the lunch menu sign read, “Your choice of lunch today: Hamburger or Fresh Garden Salad.” Mike frowned down at the greasy bun. He’d wanted the salad. He sighed and paid anyway, and then went to sit by himself at the edge of the cafeteria.

  As he choked down his food, he watched Christy lean back against Chuck and play with his curly, brown hair, right above his virtjack. All the cool kids had had them for ages. He wondered if Christy’s parents put any controls on her account. Probably not. Life for the cool kids was just one big sex-fueled party. He felt like the guy who hadn’t been invited, standing on the corner, watching everyone else have fun.

  He frowned. Maybe he’d never be happy with who he was, and maybe he’d never know what it felt like to be Kyla or Christy, but he shouldn’t have to sit on the sidelines completely. He could have his own sexy fun in virtnet, if he could just figure out how to get past his dad. Kyla had a way to fake the logs, at least. Maybe she also knew how to hack his account settings? She’d have to want to help him, though, and it didn’t seem likely... but what did he have to lose?

  After lunch, he chased after his sister in the hallway. “Kyla! Kyla!”

  She was walking away with Amy, and when she looked back to see who was calling for her, she frowned at him. Kyla paused while Mike caught up to them, Amy waiting at her side. Mike hesitated. He always felt a little shy around Amy. She was tall, blonde, and pretty, and she often seemed to be laughing to herself at some private joke. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail today, and her green eyes peeked out from behind the rimless glasses she wore. One of the smartest girls in school, it didn’t seem fair that she was also one of the hottest.

  “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t talk to me at school,” Kyla said. “What do you want?”

  She was wearing a tartan skirt with knee-high black boots, and her breasts strained against the fabric of a tight grey sweater. It was layered over a white cotton button-up whose cuffs poked out the ends to fold back against her arms. Her hair looked sleek and perfect, just like it always did. She must have been going for the slutty Catholic schoolgirl thing. It worked for her. Despite being only 5’6”, her striking presence made Mike feel like he was the short one. He took a deep breath and then launched into his plea.

  “Kyla, listen... I know you think it’s funny that my virtnet account is all locked down, but these parental controls are killing me. I know you know how to fake your logs, and I bet you also know a way to get past the account protections dad’s got set up on me. Can’t you please help me out, just this once?”

  She was already shaking her head as he finished. “No way. If I tell you how, you’ll get caught, and then you’ll get me in trouble.”

  �
��Why would I get caught?”

  “You always get caught. Why should I help you, anyway? Especially after last night.”

  He flinched. “That wasn’t what it looked like, Kyla... and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  Amy cocked an eyebrow at Mike, smiling. He felt his face go red.

  “Don’t make me beg, Ky. Please?”

  His sister glared at him, hand on her hip, and then shook her head. “Figure it out yourself, Mike. I can’t help you.”

  She was going to make him do it, then. In front of Amy and everything. Fine, she wanted him to play the cookie card? He’d play the cookie card. He dropped down onto one knee, grabbing her hand. She looked around, startled.

  “What are you doing?” she said. “Get up! What if someone sees?”

  “Please, Kyla... help me out. Please. Do you remember that time when we were kids? We were maybe five or six, and you were reaching for the cookie jar on top the refrigerator, and it fell down and broke and you were crying and crying?”

  She glowered at him with lowered lids, hiding behind her thick mascara, and didn’t say anything.

  “And then mom came in,” he continued, “And I told her it was my fault, and said I did it, and I got in trouble for it...”

  He paused, and she grudgingly nodded.

  “And then what happened, Kyla?”

  She sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “What happened, Kyla?”

  “You waited until she sent us both upstairs, and then you took two cookies out that you’d hidden under your shirt, and you gave me one. And we sat and ate them together.”

  “We sat and ate them together.” He paused to let that sink in. “I’ve never asked you for anything, Ky, not until now. I know we’re not close anymore, but come on! I don’t even need a cookie, here. I’m dying. I’ll take your crumbs. Just tell me how to fake the logs, and I can figure out the rest...”

  For the briefest second her face wavered, pity and empathy rolling across it, but then a scowl slammed down.

  “How dare you?” she said. “Playing on my emotions like... You know what? No, we’re not close anymore. And no, I’m not helping. If you want it so bad, figure out how to fake the logs your own damn self. I’m not giving you the keys to set me up in front of mom and dad just because you gave me some stupid cookie once.”

  “But—”

  “Hey, you wanna masturbate secretly in virtnet? Take a few computer classes, like I’ve been. It’s not that hard, dumbass.” She whirled away and stalked off in a huff, hair fluttering behind her.

  Amy stayed behind, watching Mike. Her glasses had fallen down her nose a bit, and she pushed them back into place with a long, thin finger. Mike had the sense she was about to say something, but then she just smiled and shrugged apologetically before turning to follow Kyla. He shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground in front of him. If he had a cookie now he’d throw it at them. Stupid girls. Stupid parents. Stupid everything! If he’d enrolled in the same computer classes Kyla had been taking since middle school, he wouldn’t need her now. He’d even tried one or two, but he’d found it so boring. Now he was screwed.

  There had to be a way to get in without her help. He couldn’t search the net for an answer, since his dad checked those logs too, but maybe there was something else he could try. If he only had access to her console, maybe he could dig around in her files, find her log hacker... He smiled to himself as an idea started forming. Today was Friday. Friday nights, Kyla always went out with friends. His parents did too; some boring board game night with their friends. More than enough time for a little detective work.

  He’d spent enough of his life on the outside of the cool kids party, looking in. It was time to roll up his sleeves and break in.

  Trespassing

  After everyone had hustled and bustled into their evening clothes and hurried out the front door, Mike locked up the whole house and then crept silently upstairs. He paused before his step-sister’s room with the slightest twinge of guilt, but he smothered it when remembered her withering denial of his plea that afternoon. Once more, the door swung open on silent hinges. This time the room was still. The faint scent of her cocoa butter lotion permeated the air, and the unicorn nightlight glowed softly in the corner. It gave him just enough light to get around. He was careful to leave the other lights alone. If someone came home early, he didn’t want them wondering why Kyla’s bedroom light was on.

  Her clothes from the day were scattered on the floor, and she’d left her underwear drawer half-open in her haste to get ready for the evening. Random bits of lingerie tumbled out. He blinked, suddenly mesmerized. A pair of silken purple panties was lying on the floor beneath it, and a lacey black bra hung halfway out, taunting him. He couldn’t help himself from drawing close, running shaking hands over the intricate pattern of rough lace, and he pictured it winding around his torso, stretching and hooking to a close. Then he stooped down to rub the silky material of the panties between his fingers. He wondered what it would feel like to slide them slowly up his legs, to gently press against a shaved pussy, soft and sweet as a whisper. He tried to imagine. He shuddered, and realized he was rock hard. Shame coursed through him. He dropped the panties, backing away.

  “Focus, focus...” he told himself, shaking his head.

  Kyla’s virtnet console sat on her mirrored vanity, next to a small box of make-up. Her plug rested in its charging cradle nearby. It blinked amber now, disconnected from virtnet. He sat down, frowning at the pink pastel upholstery of her virtnet chair. It smelled like her perfume. He shuddered to think what would happen if his dad caught him right now. But whatever. Fuck his dad. Fuck Kyla. He yanked her plug out of the cradle, leaned back, and jacked in.

  And then he was somewhere else. Mike blinked, adjusting to his new environment. Even knowing what to expect, it was jarring to have all five of your senses suddenly thrown into a completely new space. He was standing in Kyla’s lobby wearing the standard grey avatar that everyone had before they selected their virtbod. He held the barely-translucent hands up in front of himself and then slid them down his genderless body to make sure. Right now, he didn’t feel much of anything. Senses were dampened in the default. It made the virtbods feel that much more real.

  The space was sparse, and contained the standard virtnet lobby pieces: A low, two-level coffee table sat in front of a couch, more a loveseat than a sofa, and a tall, two-door cabinet stood beside them. Soft, muted light with no obvious source suffused the area, like a dream. It looked more or less like Mike’s lobby, but Kyla had also installed a surprisingly mature theme for her room. The couch was upholstered in luxurious red satin, the table flowed in elegant, carved mahogany (with a beautifully dark finish), and the cabinet was matte black. The carpets were high-pile crimson and plush underfoot; the walls, slate grey.

  “Not bad, Ky,” he said, hand sliding along the satin sofa. “I knew that princess bullshit was all a front for mom and dad. You do have some good taste.”

  Opposite the couch was a transparent wall made entirely of glass. It was dark and indistinct now, mist swirling in the recesses, obscuring what lay beyond. To his right was a large door made in the same rich mahogany style of the coffee table, the only door out of the room. It was the virtnet launch portal, but it wouldn’t let him through without a virtbod.

  He stepped forward to the dark glass and tapped once. Suddenly it sprang to life, filling with light and revealing Kyla’s selection roster. This was where you could flip through all of your virtbods, one after the other, or even make a new one if you’d bought that module. Their parents hadn’t. Kyla only had one selection, just like Mike did.

  But what a selection it was! Mike pressed his face and hands against the glass, staring at the ravishing figure in front of him. She was tall and tan, with striking green eyes and wavy chestnut hair that tapered gently down from the crown of her head to rest lightly above full, firm breasts. The figure stood up straight, chest pushed out, arms held loosely
at her sides. She was dressed in only a simple white shift. Her lanky legs stretched out the bottom, the cotton material folding into an enticing V-shape between her taut, rounded thighs. Those legs were lingerie-model perfect, Mike thought, long and flawless and smooth as if they’d just been airbrushed. She was like a barbie doll or a store mannequin, just waiting for someone to take her out and dress her up.

  What Mike wouldn’t give to do that... his virtual hands twitched, and he found himself suddenly dying to take his sister’s gorgeous avatar for a little spin in the virtnet. If the default avatar could drool, he would be. If it could get aroused, he’d be hard as a rock... or gushing wet, he supposed.

  He tapped the glass again, hope suddenly edging in... maybe she’d forgotten to log out before she left? But no... Kyla’s login screen sprang up in front of him, virtual keyboard asking for the username and password he didn’t have. Of course she wouldn’t be so sloppy. He sighed and canceled it. The wall returned to swirling grey mist behind the veneer of darkened glass. He turned away and slumped against it.

  Well, it would have been nice, but that wasn’t really what he was here for, anyway. Mike stood up, collecting himself. He needed to dig through her programs, see if he could find something he could use to hide his logs, the way Kyla did. Then he could see about getting a bootleg sex-sim somewhere. She’d probably hacked something simple together, left it somewhere she could access easily... she might not be sloppy, but his sister was lazy.

  The matte black cabinet sprang open at Mike’s tap, her program directory spilling out in front of his eyes. He scanned over the top-level titles, smiling faintly. There was nothing out of the ordinary here: just a few of her adventure games and what looked like a math tutor program.

  Mike wasn’t fooled. He flicked down to the system folders and looked for anything that looked strange. There it was. An innocent folder marked “System Files.” His dad might be old enough to be duped by that, but Mike knew that there weren’t any “system files” in the top level directory of the virtnet console.