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Chapter 8 by bsnick

Now that you have the incriminating evidence is there any reason to return?

You don't want your sister to see the porn on your former computer, so you'd better remove that.

Back in your own room you put the camera next to your pink laptop and then push the photos under the mattress. Your hand comes into contact with one of the dildos and you draw it out wonderingly. It's bigger than your own dick, being something like eight inches long, thick, and coated in fake veins, like it was the real thing.

Turning it hand over hand your horniness returns, thoughts of the photos giving filling your mind. Fighting it down you remember the computer in the other room, the external drives full of porn that you really don't want your sister to see.

Nearly stumbling from the effort of not shagging yourself you make it back to your brother's room and sit on the padded chair, a little grossed out to find that it's sticky on bare skin.

Jiggling the mouse brings you to the login screen, and your fingers type the password without thinking. When the computer tells you that the password is incorrect you blink, flick the caps lock key and type it again. When it tells you again that it's incorrect you look at the keyboard. Yup, the caps lock light is on. You must've mistyped it the first time, and the second time you'd had caps lock on. Flicking caps lock off and double-checking that the light vanishes you type the password quickly, certain you got it right this time.

The wide screen is filled with a high definition photo of a blonde teen who looks a lot like your new body (except for the bigger and faker boobs) getting drilled in the ass.

"What? Oh shit!" you exclaim. You must've typed the password wrong somehow. Now you're locked out for the next three hours or something. You've never fucked up the password before so you're not too sure how long it lasts, just that you'd thought it clever to make the words 'Wrong password, fucker!' scroll across the screen while your favorite porn filled the rest.

"Asshole," you mutter to yourself, staring at the screen, then the keyboard, then the dildo that you'd forgotten to leave behind and left on the desk.

Well now what?

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