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•Mod Talk

•Core Hacking

•Dollstreams

•Punishment Play

•Master Files (locked)

And there, under Admins: Socketsurgeon999.

I grinned. Jackpot.

These weren’t losers. They were architects. Men like me—redefining flesh and code on their own terms.

I’d found my people.

Charlotte blinked a new message at me from the corner of my screen.

[Who did you go with? I’m so proud of you, Kyle.]

[If it went well, will you resign from your job?]

I clicked the‘X’without replying.

Charlotte could wait.

Chapter 11

Kyle

My overthinking wouldn’t let me call in sick—not until the credits hit my account. Mr. Foster said the funds would clear today, but I’d been checking my balance every hour like an addict. Every second that passed felt like it was burning through my last remaining brain cells.

The credit notification popped up a little after two in the afternoon. I opened the banking app with bated breath.

Balance: 451,029 credits.

I calmly removed my headset, clicked send on my pre-written resignation email, and logged out.

Next stop: my saved basket. I added expedited delivery, finalised the payment, and ordered my SIN cyber doll.

There was a shortlist of homes I’d already been eyeing—but that could wait. I wasn’t going outside anytime soon. This apartment would become my lab. My sanctum. The place where Charlotte would be perfected.

The Dirty Dollhouse wasn’t just a chatroom. It was a rabbit hole.

I didn’t post. Didn’t comment. I just watched.

Thread after thread, livefeeds, upgrades, humiliations. Some users treated their dolls like goddesses, others like livestock. But what stood out wasn’t the perversion—it was the obsession. The technical mastery. The pride.

They called it art. Called themselves creators, but I could see the depravity. It didn't make me uncomfortable because some part of me understood them.

When I watched some of the streamed cyber doll videos, some were outrageous—beyond anything I’d imagined. But I got it. I understood why they were hidden behind encrypted networks and veiled protocols.

Each to their own.

Perhaps one day I might show them Charlotte.

A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth.