Chapter 1

I’d been playing SpiritWalk, that game where you go around in the real world binding powerful spirits on your phone using AR (augmented reality). Once you do that, you make the spirits fight in quests, which in turn makes them more powerful, etc., etc. You know the one.

It was fun and addictive; everyone was playing it, like my sister, and even my mom! It got me out of the house searching for spirits, so Mom was happy. I pretty much lived in my room otherwise.

There was a reason for that. I’ve always had a knack with computers, even when I was younger. By age 12 I hacked into my school and changed my gym grades to a B (an A would attract too much attention) so I could still get on the honor roll. When I was 14, I had hacked into some local banks and siphoned off 1% of every rounded cent (yes, I stole that from Office Space, who stole that from Superman III, but I made sure not to take too much; just enough so that I always had some cash on hand).

Now, at 16, I was going to hack this game. Why should I have to walk all around town searching for rares when I could just use “god mode” and bind them all? I won’t get into the details, but through some trades on the dark web I managed to get the IMEI (the unique phone hardware number) of the maker of the game, Trenton de Ruyter. With some additional work, I managed to sniff out his login credentials.

I started the game, logged out of my account, entered his stolen credentials, and waited. “Please wait...” it said. I held my breath. Finally, after a few agonizing seconds it showed, “Downloading Master Console...” Yes!

This “Master Console” was completely unlike the rest of the game. It was utilitarian, less polished, and had buttons for “Game”, “Players”, “Spirits”, and “Advanced”. Under Players there were options for “Search” and “Near Me”. I tapped Near Me and saw my sister and a few neighbors (Mom was still at work). Tapping my sister, there were options for “Chat”, “Ban”, and “Take Control”. That last one seemed interesting, so I tapped it. I guessed that it would allow me to take control of her account ... maybe I could mess up her collection of spirits?

“Please wait...” it said again. I sighed and waited. After a minute I started feeling antsy. It wasn’t indicating that it was downloading something ... was it a bug?

After waiting another minute, I exited the app and started it again. This time when it loaded the Master Console, the Advanced option was grayed out, indicating that it was unavailable. WTF? I tapped Players and selected my sister again, but the “Chat”, “Ban”, and “Take Control” options were likewise unavailable. I tried tapping “Take Control” anyway, but as expected, nothing happened.

I tapped Spirits and was given more options, including “Spawn”. I tapped that and was given a list of spirits, as well as a prompt for the location to spawn it. I chose the rarest and “Near Me”, and then switched back to my account. Sure enough, there it was in my room, visible through the app! I quickly moved my finger to trace along the spirit’s unique symbol that showed on screen and bound it. Booya! No more tooling around town trying to find rares!

I felt a moment of panic when I realized that I hadn’t used a VPN to hide my location, but if I had done that then the “Near Me” option for spawning the spirit wouldn’t have worked. It was a gamble, but the makers of SpiritWalk were just a game development studio, not The Pentagon, so I figured I was safe.

Trenton de Ruyter checked the notification on his phone. A login on his account from another city? He pulled up his Master Console and went into the Players view. He could see himself twice on the map, the other pushpin a few states over. A hacker! Well, his location security measures were in place, so whoever this was would encounter a generic “Please wait...” message when trying to access certain sensitive features of the Master Console.

Trent was just bringing up his “Change Password” option when he had a second thought. Instead, he went into his Master Console’s Advanced page and created himself a new superuser account. He logged out and back into that, and then quickly downgraded his old account so that it couldn’t access any of those sensitive features, one of which would be very bad for de Ruyter if it was made public. Then he removed the fake timer from that account. He had created a “honeypot”, as it was called in internet security.

Within a minute, whoever had hacked his account had created a rare spirit and then logged out. Trent used his console to find which player had bound that newly spawned spirit.

Interesting, he thought, reading the player details. Then he called his personal private detective.

I was sitting in class, bored since I had finished the pop quiz early, so I pulled out my phone to play the game. Again, I used the Master Console to spawn a rare spirit, a dragon one this time, a few feet away. I quickly swapped accounts.

“Oh!” Mrs. Whittaker, my teacher, exclaimed from her desk. She had been on her phone as well, and swiveled to point its camera at the spirit I had just created.

Shit! I pointed my phone at the spirit and moved my finger along the shape that appeared on my screen. Bound it!

“Aw!” Mrs. Whittaker looked up from her phone and surveyed the room. I was still pointing my phone to where the spirit had spawned, so it was obvious that I had scooped her.

“Victor!” she called out to me. I was caught!

Victor McCullough, that’s me ... not Vic, thankyouverymuch.

“Come with me, young man, and give me your phone,” she commanded.

I heard snickering from some of the other students as I got up to follow my teacher. I rarely got in trouble, but lots of people were happy to see the smart kid taken down a peg.

I followed Mrs. Whittaker down the hallway, watching her shapely rear as it wobbled side to side in her skirt. My brown-haired teacher was thirtysomething, had a young kid, I think, but was still in good shape.

Her phone chirped and she looked at it as she walked. Then she stopped so suddenly that I almost collided with her no cushiony-looking butt. She was staring intently at her screen. She was so close now that I could smell her perfume. Mrs. W stood there for a good 20 seconds and I was about to look around her to see what was so interesting when she grabbed my hand and took me in the opposite direction.

“Where are we going?” I asked. The office was the other way.

She opened a stationery closet and pulled me inside, closing the door behind us.

“Mrs. Whittaker?” What was going on here?

Then she bent down and started unfastening my jeans.

“What the hell?” I grabbed her hands.

She looked up at me. “You let this happen or your phone’s confiscated, Victor.”

Despite the situation, or maybe because of it, my cock had started to fill with blood. There was now less of it in my brain, so that may have helped with my decision; I dropped my hands.

Mrs. W unzipped me and fished my hardening member out. A moment later my cock was in the warm heaven that was my teacher’s mouth.

“Oh shit...” I moaned. Masturbation had nothing on this! My five-and-a-half incher was hard in no time.

“Mmm...” she moaned, the vibrations from her mouth transferring to my cock. Goddamn!

Mrs. W seemed to be a pretty good cocksucker, I guess because she was married, but I didn’t really have anything to compare to. Soon enough she brought me to orgasm and I blasted her mouth with my cum. She moaned again as she swallowed it all down, continuing to suck until she had completely drained me.

She zipped me back up and stood. “Now, no mention of this, or...” she handed me back my phone, “this really will be confiscated. Understand?”

“Yes ma’am,” was all I could say in response. Then we went back to the classroom like nothing had happened.