Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs novel Chapter 48

Chapter 48: Isabella’s Kinky

My new MacBook was ready to unleash hell, and I was about to do what I did best. My new super intelligence plus years of being a code-slinging nerd meant nobody could touch me in the digital realm anymore.

I was about to become the ghost in her machine.

Mrs. Rodriguez was about to get the full Peter Carter hacking experience, and she’d never even know I was there.

The anticipation was making my heart race like I was about to commit the perfect crime. Which, technically, I was.

I named this operation; Digital Infiltration: Welcome to GhostNest, Bitch

I cracked my knuckles like some movie hacker stereotype and fired up "GhostNest v7.2"—my custom penetration suite that could break into any smart home like it was made of wet cardboard and false hopes.

Eight years of coding genius about to pay off big time.

This is my magnum opus.

The interface was pure black terminal minimalism because flashy graphics are for script kiddies and wannabes who think hacking looks like what they see in movies. Real hackers work in the matrix, in pure text that flows like digital poetry.

This program was my masterpiece—six modules that could turn any connected house into my personal surveillance network, making me the puppet master of their digital lives:

E-Spider scanned entire neighborhoods I focused on for open device ports, cataloging every smart doorbell, thermostat, and TV like a digital phone book of vulnerabilities just waiting to be exploited.

SmartForce hammered those devices with credential attacks—default passwords that lazy people never changed, leaked databases from company breaches, AI-generated guesses based on user patterns and human stupidity.

Most people’s password game was weaker than Connor’s attempt at growing facial hair, which was saying something.

CloudPhantom hijacked cloud connections to Google Home, Alexa, Ring and more—basically turning people’s own voice assistants into my personal spies who reported everything back to me.

HouseCrawler was the real genius—once I owned one device, it spread through the entire home network like a digital STD, infecting everything from smart fridges to fucking WiFi-enabled light bulbs.

Every connected device became my eyes and ears.

WraithView gave me live feeds from every camera and microphone in the house. Better than Netflix and way more entertaining than reality TV, because this was actual reality.

ShadowTrace cleaned up after me, erasing logs and covering tracks so thoroughly that even the FBI would think it was an act of God or some glitch in the matrix. I had to thank my morals that I wasn’t a creep who would use my program to spy on women. in my defense I’m only using this to know what she was into, that’s all.

Mom, you really raised me well!

Time to see what Mrs. Rodriguez was hiding behind her professional teacher facade.

The adrenaline rush was better than any drug as I typed the magic words that would open her digital life like a book:

ghostnest --target 192.168.3.0/24 --deep --stealth --no-mercy.....

Code started flying across the screen like something out of a cyberpunk wet dream, green text cascading in patterns that looked like digital rain. Within minutes, I had every device in Isabella’s neighborhood mapped, analyzed, and ready for penetration.😉

Her smart home was about to become MY smart home, and she’d never know the difference.

The Nest thermostat cracked open like an egg—default password "nest123" because apparently even teachers can be basic as fuck about cybersecurity. From there, HouseCrawler went to work, pivoting through her router and systematically owning every connected device like a digital virus spreading through her entire home.

Smart TV? Mine. Security cameras? Also mine. Even her fucking WiFi-enabled coffee maker was now part of my surveillance network, ready to spy on her morning routine.

Welcome to the Internet of Things, where everything is hackable and privacy is a myth they sell to make people feel safe.

A soft chime confirmed total network penetration, and I felt like a god looking down at mortals who had no idea they were being watched.

"Welcome home, Mrs. Rodriguez," I muttered at my screen, feeling the power rush through me like electricity.

Game fucking on. Let the psychological warfare begin.

Her viewing habits screamed "Please someone fuck me properly for once before I lose my goddamn mind."

Plot twist: My sexually frustrated teacher might actually be dangerous as hell.

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