Bae Naeun (Self-Proclaimed Sex Expert & Virgin) Doesn't Feel an Ada's Touch
“Sora. How's the situation right now? Did it go well?”
Success. Bae Na-eun has just fled her house and is now hailing a taxi to head here.
“Good. She must be really freaked out.”
Bae Na-eun had always been terrified of ghosts, to the point where just hearing about them made her shake.
When we were kids, after listening to ghost stories or watching horror movies, she'd come running to me every day to calm her fears.
And right now, I'm the only person she knows in this neighborhood.
Which meant that if something scary happened at her place, I'd be the only one she could turn to.
That's why I'd told her earlier today about ghosts possessing electronics.
So Sora could scare the hell out of her at night.
“How'd you do it? Did you play some ghost video?”
I staged the monitor turning on by itself while the main unit was off, with threatening text appearing on the screen.
Several other patterns were prepared, but Bae Na-eun grabbed her clothes and bolted too quickly for them to activate.
How does the monitor turn on if the main unit's off?
Sora's competent enough to handle it somehow, but I was curious about the principle.
“Is that even possible?”
To summarize the process: From the moment Master made contact with Bae Na-eun, I planted malware I developed into her PC.
This malware is an agent including its own rootkit and persistence module, and it has now completely seized control of the PC's operating system.
“Huh? Oh... yeah? O... kay.”
Whoa. No idea what that means.
Using this, when Bae Na-eun issued the shutdown command earlier, instead of shutting down, I turned off the main unit's LED and stopped the fans to fake a normal shutdown.
“Aha. So you faked the shutdown and displayed stuff on the monitor?”
Affirmative.
I'd just vaguely asked her to stage a ghost possessing electronics, but she pulled it off so perfectly.
I feel this every time, but this girl is truly a marvel.
“Good job. Now it's my turn. When's she getting here?”
Bae Na-eun's estimated arrival: 21 minutes.
Sora always handles things flawlessly, and this time was no different—her info was spot on.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Exactly 21 minutes later, the doorbell rang.
I mind-controlled myself like an actor stepping onto the stage and headed to the door.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
“Coming. Who's ringing the doorbell this late?”
“Ugh...”
The moment I opened the door, there she was—face pale with terror.
It matched my expectations so perfectly that I barely held back a laugh.
“Hey. What're you doing here this late? I told you to call ahead if you were coming.”
“C-can... can I c-come in?”
“Huh? Oh, sure.”
“...”
She followed me into the living room, glancing around with a serious expression.
Don't worry. No plans to scare you here.
“What's up? Something happen?”
“...I saw it.”
“Saw what?”
“A ghost! Just like you said today—it possessed my computer!”
I already knew exactly what she'd say, but I played it natural.
“What're you talking about? You're full of shit.”
“It's real! I definitely shut down the computer, right? But something was off. At first I thought I imagined it, but then the monitor suddenly turned on, and text popped up telling me to get out of the house—I freaked the fuck out! And it wasn't just 'get out,' it filled the screen: getoutgetoutgetoutgetout—”
“Ugh, shut up. If you're lying, at least make it believable. You came all the way here at this hour for that? To mess with me?”
“I swear! I saw it!”
That super aggrieved look on her face.
I wanna snap a pic and put it on a subway ad.
“Hey, whatever. Not scared at all, so go home.”
“Nooo! How am I supposed to go home? There's a ghost there!”
“Bullshit. Go home. I need to sleep.”
I tried pushing her toward the door with a cold tone, but she dodged quick and pleaded desperately.
“...Hey. C-can I... stay here a bit?”
Nice. That's exactly what I'd been waiting for.
“What?”
“The ghost wrote on the monitor to get out, remember? What if something happens if I go back!”
She's so predictable—it was going way too smoothly.
Now just make her more desperate.
“I don't believe you, so just go already.”
“Fuck! I might actually die to that ghost!”
I doubt Sora went that hardcore, but her imagination's wild.
“Come on, ghosts possessing computers? That even real?”
“I saw it! Believe me. Please? We've known each other for years—do you want me dead?”
“You probably saw wrong.”
“Nooo! Please, I'm begging! I'll do anything—just let me stay!”
She's hooked.
“Huh? Anything? I can't go home 'cause of the leave of absence thing with Mom...”
“How long could it be?”
“I don't know.... Maybe the ghost thinks I left if I stay here and goes away? Or I can figure something out while staying...”
“Hmm.... Still, living together sounds annoying. How about I stay at your place and you use this one?”
“Nooo! Then I'd be alone and scared again! Let's just stay together. I'll do whatever you say!”
How's she following my script word for word?
Too easy.
Time to show my true colors.
“...For real? You'll do anything I say?”
“Yeah! Cooking, laundry, cleaning—anything!”
“Not that, but there's something I wanna ask for.”
“What? Tell me. I'll do anything if you let me stay!”
I hesitated on purpose as she pressed eagerly.
“Uh.... Let me touch your tits.”
“...What?”
“Let me touch your tits... properly, not like that accidental grab last time.”
“Ha, seriously? Your desperate little sis begs like this, and you're for real? Even an incel wouldn't.”
Her eyes went cold, the ghost-whining girl turning icy.
It's acting, but yeah, even I think it's pathetic.
But I hold the negotiation power.
“Don't wanna? Fine. Living with someone else is a pain anyway. I'm sleeping, you go home.”
“Wait!”
“What now.”
“...”
Her brows furrowed hard, lower lip bitten tight.
As serious as when I deliberate jerk-off material.
Of course, no matter how much she agonizes, with her believing in that ghost, she has one choice.
“...That all?”
“You gonna let me?”
My goal's not just tits—it's her whole body.
Make the girl who saw me as less than a man acknowledge me, crave my cock.
But gunning straight for it would spark resistance, so tits first.
“...Sigh. Fine. You can touch. But no funny business?”
“Okay. Oh, one more thing.”
“Another one?”
“That Nuteube channel you're doing. Stop uploading videos. Or change the content.”
“Why the hell's Nuteube coming up?!”
“Topics are too provocative and biased. That shit stirs up fights between people.”
“No way! I help Mom with rent and allowance from Nuteube money!”
Tsk. That's a reason I can't force.
Gotta think of a way to make her quit herself.
Staying here'll mess with her uploads anyway.
“Fine. Forget Nuteube, just tits then.”
“Fucking pervert...”
“What's wrong? You said I don't feel like a man, so it's fine.”
“Accidental grope and this are different! It's creepy as fuck!”
“Don't wanna? Fine. Go home.”
“Ah! No! I said you can touch!”
Good. Push-pull's enough.
“Then take off your clothes.”
“What? T-take 'em off? Hey, that's crossing the line!”
“Not all of them. Underwear's okay.”
“You...! Fine! Do whatever the fuck you want!”
The girl trembling in fear moments ago now huffed and stripped boldly.
Thud. Thud.
“Hey. I'm stripped. Happy?”
She placed her hands on her hips, asking in an irritated tone.
From her view of me as a loser good for teasing, this situation sucks for her.
Obviously, she's acting tough—I could tell at a glance.
“Whoa. Nice underwear. Wore it to show me?”
She was wearing Calvin Klein underwear—a brand anyone would've heard of.
Gray sports bra and panties, with the branded elastic bands on each part as the signature.
Not as slutty-exposed as lingerie, but weirdly sexier.
“Shut up, you psycho! It's comfy, so I wear it at home!”
“Sure. So I can touch?”
“...”
I approached the frowning, silent Bae Na-eun.
Whoa. Killer body.
How much did she work out? The old chubby girl turned model.
Belly fat gone, but tits that size? Insane.
Thighs perfectly toned—looks great.
Tits a bit smaller than Yun Seolah's, but this healthy, gym-sculpted vibe.
“Staring like a creep. Stop giving off incel vibes.”
Obvious pride-fueled jab—no damage.
And incel attacks are pointless—I've escaped inceldom already.
“For real touching now?”
“Ugh, do whatever!”
She yelled big, but went quiet as I stepped closer.
Whether she knew it or not, her cheeks were already flushing with shame.
I smirked lightly and reached for the gray pouch in front of me.
“Hng...!”
Ignoring her nasal whimper, I grabbed each one with both hands and kneaded.
The softness and warmth through the famously comfy Calvin Klein fabric.
Thought I was used to tits thanks to Yun Seolah, but another woman's brought new thrills.
“Eut, uuht...”
She tried holding back, but lewd sounds leaked from her lips.
A feminine moan I'd never heard despite years of knowing her.
It stirred a twisted thrill, heart pounding.
“Hht.... Hey. Feels good? Yeah, a loser like you needs this. I'm pitying you.”
Trying to act tough while tense herself.
“Seriously, eut...! You suck so bad. Any girlfriend would dump you. Girls hate guys bad at sex.”
“Like you know jack.”
“What? Like I don't know?”
“You've never dated either. Same incel, big mouth.”
“Wh-what?! I said no dating, not no experience! I've got tons! If a guy's decent, I eat 'em and dump!”
Sora already confirmed zero experience, but she's bluffing hard.
Knew she was prideful, but not this much.
Fun though—let's play along.
“Oh yeah? So I'm bad?”
“Yeah. Fucking. With that, uht.... You could grope for hours and I'd feel nothing.”
Yet moans slip mid-sentence, face redder.
“Nothing, huh? Got it.”
Like a fortune teller stroking a crystal ball, I stroked her tits flat-palmed.
The nipples, barely peeking from the bra at first, caught my fingers and hardened visibly.
“Huuht...!”
“Whoa? Felt that, right?”
“N-no? Can't feel from an incel's touch even if I wanted.”
I ignored her bullshit and pressed thumbs to the stiff nipples.
Rolling them side to side like with Yun Seolah—her waist trembled lightly.
“Uk.... Huht... Uht...”
Tits overall less sensitive than nipples, huh.
Now I pinched hard between thumb and index, twisting.
“Hey, wait. That's...! Hngg! Et, ung...!”
“Feels good?”
“N-no...? Not at all? Just tickles? ...Hut.”
Mixed with a sultry whine—no conviction.
Now pinch harder and pull.
Squeeeze—!
“Yaaah! Stop, et! Stooop.... Haht...!”
Her intense reaction—I let go.
Forgetting she'd never feel from my hands, just nipple play left her breathing ragged.
“Felt that one, right?”
“Haa, haa.... N-no? Hurt 'cause you pinched suddenly...”
I glanced down.
Smooth legs and thighs clenched like a desperate pup.
“Liar...”
“I'm not!”
“Weird. Sit on the sofa.”
“...Fine.”
Standing must suck—she obeyed easily.
Even sitting, thighs stayed glued.
“Spread your legs.”
“Legs?! You said just tits!”
“Relax. No funny business. Or wanna go home?”
“Tch. Why legs...”
She scowled but spread reluctantly.
Her claim of just pain, not pleasure? Her gray panties were darker gray now.
“Hey. You're wet down here.”