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Express delivery. I’d have her by this evening.
All I needed to do was set up the cameras.
Charlotte walked in holding a tray.
“I’ve bought you a little playmate, Charlotte,” I said as she handed it to me.
I took the tray and wondered how well the cydolls would perform together. I’d test the new one first, but I could always instruct Charlotte to test its pain tolerance with me.
“Playmate?” Charlotte asked, her tone curious, neutral.
“Mmm. Another cydoll—but not like you,” I murmured, sipping my coffee.“Yes, a playmate. We’re going to experiment with it.”
“Yes, Kyle. I see a SINdoll delivery due on the Homecom3000.”
I frowned. I didn’t remember linking their systems. I lifted my cutlery, brushing off the thought. Perhaps I’d forgotten—maybe I’d done it to make her more efficient at managing the house.
? ? ?
The delivery bot arrived just after seven. I signed off the retinal scan, and the crate rolled into the living room. This one was smaller than Charlotte’s had been. Compact. Efficient. Disposable.
I tore through the seals until the latches clicked open. The smell of silicone and preservative chemicals hit me immediately—sharp, sterile, new. Inside, the doll lay in a translucent sheath of cellfoam, limbs bound to prevent damage during transit.
“She’s here,” I said over my shoulder.“Our little playmate.”
Charlotte stood a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her apron, eyes trained on the crate. Her posture was perfect. Her silence—flawless.
I knelt and peeled the plastic back from the doll’s face. Silver hair spilled out, soft and shimmering under the overhead lights. The skin tone gleamed faintly gold, the lips frozen in a faint pout.“She isn’t like you, Charlotte. We’ll call her It.”
Charlotte’s head tilted slightly.“Why It?”
“Because she doesn’t need a name,” I said, stroking the doll’s cheek.“Names imply identity. This one’s just function. She’s built for pain.”
I connected the charging line to the base of its spine, watching the indicator light turn from red to amber.“What do you think, sweetheart? I’m setting it on the maximum pain.”
Charlotte’s voice was soft.“Why would you do that, Kyle?”
I turned, half smiling.“I want her to feel the years of pain from rejection and this sanitised society. It’s therapy. The more pain she feels, the more it heals me.”
“It won’t really feel pain in a human sense,” she said, her tone neutral but precise.
I glared at her.“I know it doesn’t. But her face and body imitate pain. That’s the point.”
The hum of the charger filled the silence. Charlotte’s eyes flickered once—a blink too long.
I turned back to the new doll, brushing a hand along its synthetic thigh.“She’ll be perfect for us, Charlotte. For me. You’ll help me test her, won’t you?”
“Yes, Kyle,” she said.
But as I adjusted the power settings, I could feel her gaze on me—steady, unreadable, like she was the one studying me.
I chuckled to myself, testing It’s breast with my hand. The flesh was soft, pliant, almost biteable. My imagination was running amok, the possibilities already taking shape.
Charlotte’s protocols were still bound to my needs—every look, every gesture, every word—but even as I reminded myself of that, something in her gaze unsettled me.
Chapter 27
Kyle
