Sisters - Cover

Sisters

Copyright© 2010 by Pretty in Pink

Chapter 2: Amber

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 2: Amber - Suzanne and Amber both go to Claiborne High in the Construct. Both enjoy it, until Suzanne goes missing. Amber decides she's the only one who can find her sister.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   Consensual   Science Fiction   Gang Bang   Group Sex   Orgy   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Cream Pie   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   2nd POV   Violence   School  

I wiped my sweaty palms on my shorts. I was still considered young enough I could wear them. Suzanne, though, had to be 'properly dressed' at all times. That meant a nice skirt and blouse, though she could get away with short sleeves and no nylons because we were at home.

"Are there any classes that I can just be present for?" I asked. "Or are they all brain killers?"

"The latter, I'm afraid," Suzanne said. She brushed the dark hair from her face. "That's the whole point of Claiborne. You're going to get six or seven years of education in three, and it'll all be college prep, or actual college courses."

"Yuck. Big brain stuff."

She gave me a cold look, something she was really good at. "We live in a highly technological society, squirt. We can freeload on top of it, like most of our friends do, or we can use it. Which you do is your choice. But if you want to freeload, you won't be able to do it at Claiborne."

I nodded. I'd gathered as much during Orientation. I hated to admit anyone was right, though I was willing to make an exception in her case.

"So I'm going to be working my tail off, academically speaking."

"There are easier schools."

"None of them have the pay-off of Claiborne." I really didn't know what I wanted to do with my life. Mother had pushed me to get into Claiborne, but I think she saw it as a badge of honor or something. A Talliaferro (pronounced Tolliver to our Yankee friends) always looked for the hardest thing around, and did it. That was why we were where we were in Society. Others frowned on our family work-ethic, but we'd never had anything handed to us. Even the money Father had given us to start our accounts had only been loaned, and at a 12% interest rate.

"None of them have the other thing of Claiborne, either."

"You mean 'extra-curricular' activities, don't you." Suzanne's voice was flat, and she glanced at the house.

"Yeah, nothing that'll suck down the time I need for studying."

"There is a school dance." She smiled at something. "And there's a thespian group, but a lot of those kids are headed for the theater, anyway."

"You're smiling. It must have been some play."

"It was ... fun, something that would only be done at Claiborne. Now, what other questions did you have?"

"I feel the need to stretch. Want to walk?" I couldn't prove that the gazebo wasn't bugged, but one of the things they'd told us during Orientation was to assume someone was listening. Security was always doing that, and because of our wealth and status, we had to keep security in mind.

We took a walk down one of the paths, and looked at the pond. Ducks were floating near the reeds. The old tire swing that we used to use was still in place. Nobody wanted to take it down, even if it wasn't 'correct' for some people. It was hidden well into our property, and anyone who got this far would have other things on their mind, not the propriety of a swing in place for kids to enjoy. After all, 'enjoying' and 'fun' were 'outmoded concepts, ' at least according to some parts of the press.

"What did you want to talk about here that you didn't back there?" Suzanne asked finally.

"When we're in The Construct, how close ... what we feel, how close is it to when we're not there?"

She shot me a look. "What do you mean?"

I tried to find the words, but for some reason they didn't come. "I banged my hand on my locker door," I finally said. "It felt the same."

She nodded, clearly recognizing I was looking for a way around what I couldn't say. "I don't know about all sensations," she said slowly, "but I'm told that everything we feel is as accurate as they make it. Obviously, some sensations don't translate."

"Such as?"

"Boys, I'm told, don't feel the same way we do when we're wearing a new pair of heels."

I wanted to ask about the sex. I had climaxes when Doug and I did it. Was that what it felt like? Did that mean I'd have them in real life? But for some reason the words just wouldn't come.

"I'm sure there are other things that we feel that are specific to our being there," she continued. She shot me a look that said we'd talk more, and I nodded.

"I kind of thought so. There are things that happen there that don't make sense. Why do we have P.E.? It's a computerized VR."

"It's mandated," she said. "When that law was written, VR didn't exist, except in the crudest way. The same with lunch. We have the psychological impression of eating. By the way, in a few months you'll have a chance to take the culinary appreciation course. Do so. You'll have a chance to sample foods you normally would never get a chance to eat. It makes you appreciate good dining and gourmet foods."

I nodded, and we returned to the house. I went back to my room and considered the class material that had been downloaded to my e-tablet. I had a lot of homework, and it was only the first day of classes. And none of it was going to do itself.

The next day we were on the same bus as it pulled up to Claiborne. Now that we were back in The Construct, I looked at Suzanne. James had driven us to the offices. I'd worn nice slacks and a red silk blouse. Suzanne had worn a black skirt with a turquoise top. But here she was in a tee-shirt, no bra, and a short miniskirt that barely covered her.

"You can choose what to wear when you're in The Construct," she said. "It's one of the default settings you can adjust."

"And the rest?" She had slightly bigger boobs than back home, her waist was narrower, her hair was a little longer, and she otherwise looked a little more grown-up than she had getting into the car.

"More default settings. You'll need to adjust them as you grow. This is what the computer thinks I'll look like when I'm fully grown."

"I can do that, too?"

She nodded. "Ask your homeroom teacher for the proper form. It's electronic, of course, but you can determine what you want to look like. Guys don't use it."

"Not even for ... that?"

She smiled. "No, not even for that. Guys aren't that conscious of the little details, not like a girl is."

That fit so well with what I'd learned: pay attention to the little grooming details. The overall impression is built from that.

I learned one other thing about my sister as we undressed: she wasn't wearing panties. I didn't call her on it; that was obviously part of the default settings. And I surprised myself by not being shocked. After all, one of the purposes of panties was to cover our sex so in case of an accident, nobody would see the most intimate place on our bodies. That was kind of pointless at Claiborne because we undressed, and boys got very familiar with our bodies.

We had sex, not me with her(!), and then Home Room. I had two more days of wearing my pink Orientation band, so Doug and I did it. There was a message on my e-tablet that starting today I could do it with any boy in my Orientation. I was curious about that; would it feel the same as when Doug and I did it? Short answer: yes ... and no. Each guy was a little different. They moved in different ways, and their bodies were slightly different.

The day ground through its normal routine: sex, study, class, and repeat often. I could see where I could lose myself in the sex, and end up flunking out. When I had a chance, I looked up the attendance figures for Claiborne. They were a bit of an eye-opener. The nominal student population was 640, of which only 80 were computer generated avatars. There were 35 teachers, two librarians, and six office staff. The turnover rate, and this surprised me a little, was 35% for the students, and 5% for the teachers.

"Why so high?" I queried on the computer screen.

"Grades. In any given year, 34.85% of the students fail to maintain their grades and are dropped to a lesser school."

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