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The following month, I got a Homecom notification about an incoming parcel from Nano-Tech Industries. To my surprise, it was the finished product—ReSkin™, fully refined and readyfor market. There was even a note enclosed. Ironically, it was handwritten—archaic paper, probably in case an electronic message got intercepted.
I blinked at the numbers they’d printed. The units mass-produced. The profit projections. Early market testing hadn’t just performed well—it had blown the fuck up.
It was time to upgrade my home.
I’d never need to worry about a single credit again.
I opened up the boxed silicone repair machine. The possibilities were endless.
ReSkin could repair any surface damage. Flesh tears, stretch marks, scorch burns—gone in seconds. No more delicate treatment. No more caution. I could fuck her raw, beat her until her thighs bruised like meat, and just smooth it all away like it never happened.
And why not? She wouldn’t remember the pain. Or if she did, she’d love me for it.
Chapter 20
Kyle
The crate almost tipped over and I grabbed it before it slid off the bot.
“Be careful with this one,” I snapped.
“Yes, my apologies,” the mindless bot replied.
I watched Charlotte’s crate as the bot carried her toward the elevator. Too many people had become interested in her, so I’d stopped uploading videos to the DD server and changed my user ID—just enough to dip in and out without drawing attention.
Charlotte could walk. Hell, she could run if she wanted to. But I didn’t want anyone to see just how real she looked. Not yet.
I didn’t end up with just another apartment. It was a penthouse. I was going up in the world.
This was my kingdom.
The brightness would take some getting used to.
“Homecom, dim all windows to 70%,” I said, walking through to the living area.
“Of course, Kyle,” Homecom3000 replied.
The voice wasn’t stilted, and the system’s response time was far superior to my old one. I climbed the stairs, and when Ireached the top, I glanced down at the wooden crate Charlotte was in.
She was awake. Awake, and in the dark. Able to break free at any moment.
But she didn’t.
She sat, buckled in the crate, waiting for me.
I smiled and walked into the new bedroom. It spanned the entire top floor and showcased the city beneath me.
? ? ?
I didn’t open the crate.
Not the first day. Not the second.
Charlotte remained sealed inside like a treasure waiting to be earned. Or a pet waiting to be summoned. It was all part of the test. Obedience wasn’t absolute if it couldn’t endure isolation.
The penthouse was a status symbol, and I was taking advantage of my new luxurious location. Homecom3000 responded with silky precision, dimming lights, adjusting temperature, pouring drinks, and playing whatever I wanted—films, music, porn. Everything was effortless now.
There is no broken tap, flickering bulb, roaches, or neighbours stomping overhead.
