Cybernetic Love

Chapter 1: Sabrina

The office lights buzzed faintly, a low hum that matched the static in my overworked brain. My desk was cluttered with data projections and half-drunk cups of coffee, the remnants of another grueling day. Alexander Reed (Axion)—my boss, the CEO of Cyberion Dynamics—had been particularly relentless.

"Ms. Sabrina," his deep, clipped voice echoed in my mind as I replayed the events of the day. He’d summoned me to his office in that imperious tone of his, giving no room for argument or hesitation.

When I stood before him earlier, tablet in hand, his piercing gray eyes had locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding. His cybernetic enhancements, barely visible beneath his tailored suit, only heightened the sense of power he exuded.

"This report is sloppy," he’d said, his voice cold enough to send a shiver down my spine. "Do it again. And this time, ensure it meets the standards of Cyberion Dynamics."

"I—yes, sir," I’d stammered, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Dismissed," he said without another glance, his attention already back on the glowing streams of data before him.

By the time the day ended, I was drained. Every muscle in my body ached, my head throbbed, and my nerves felt raw. I wasn’t sure if I could survive another week of Alexander Reed’s impossible demands.

As I packed up for the day, Mia leaned over my cubicle. "You should come out with us tonight, Sabrina," she said, her voice light and teasing. "You’ve been working way too hard. Let loose for once."

"I’m not really in the mood," I replied, adjusting my glasses and pushing a strand of blonde hair behind my ear.

"You’re always 'not in the mood,'" Mia said with a playful eye-roll. "Come on. You need to get out of your own head. Maybe even have some fun."

Her words lingered in my mind as I trudged home. The truth was, I rarely let myself have fun. I was the quiet, shy one in the office, the girl who preferred to stay in the background and avoid attention. I didn’t have many friends—just coworkers like Mia who tried to pull me out of my shell every now and then.

But as I sat on the edge of my bed, peeling off my work clothes, something shifted. I was tired—not just physically, but emotionally. Tired of feeling invisible, of hiding behind my work and my glasses and my insecurities. Maybe Mia was right. Maybe I did need to let loose.

My gaze fell on the black latex dress hanging in the back of my closet, a forgotten relic of an impulsive online shopping spree. I’d bought it months ago, inspired by one too many steamy romance novels, but I’d never had the courage to wear it. Tonight, though, felt different.

I pulled it out, running my fingers over the smooth, glossy material. The dress was daring—more daring than anything I’d ever worn. But that was the point, wasn’t it? To step out of my comfort zone. To become someone else, even if just for one night.

First, I took off my glasses, setting them carefully on my nightstand. My face looked strange without them, softer and more vulnerable. I popped open my contacts case and slid them in, blinking until my vision cleared. Without the frames on my face, I felt exposed—but also freer.

Next, I turned to my hair. The tight bun I always wore to the office came undone with a few quick pulls, blonde waves cascading over my shoulders. I brushed them out, letting the strands frame my face in a way that felt both effortless and sensual.

When I finally slipped into the dress, it was like stepping into a different version of myself. The latex clung to every curve, molding to my body like a second skin. The neckline plunged just enough to make my cheeks heat, and the hem barely brushed mid-thigh. I felt naked and powerful all at once.

I smoothed my hands over the glossy material, marveling at how it accentuated my waist and hugged my hips. My breasts were lifted perfectly, the sheen of the fabric catching the light with every movement. I had never felt so exposed, so daring—and I liked it.

For makeup, I kept it simple but striking. A smoky liner made my blue eyes pop, and a bold red lipstick added a touch of drama. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. She wasn’t Sabrina Carter, the introverted analyst who spent her days buried in data. She was someone else entirely—confident, alluring, unapologetic.

I slipped on a pair of black stilettos to complete the look, the sharp heels making my legs look impossibly long. As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of the dress and running my fingers through my hair one last time, I felt a thrill of anticipation. For once, I wasn’t hiding.

Tonight, I was going to let myself be seen.