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A Messy Malfunction For Technophile34 By Draconicon

BANG!

Giselle screamed as the gunshot went past her head, staring at the hole it punched in the wall of her apartment. There was no time for her to keep staring, though, not when the gun was still between her and the feral over her.

She grunted, her breath coming in tight gasps that fed the inner fans that were already overheating, the Gardevoir doll struggling to keep up with the demands of her systems as the feral Inteleon loomed over her. Between them, the smoking barrel of the pipe gun wavered back and forth, almost pointing at her face more than once.

"Get off!"

Her scream echoed through the empty, abandoned apartment, other holes in the walls leading to other units that were as empty as the world outside. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but nobody would hear her. Or if they did, they'd be other people like her, people that were on the run and doing their best to avoid anybody else that still had a brain.

"RAAAAGH!"

The feral couldn't make any sound but a wild, horrible scream. The Inteleon leaned down, roaring in her face, spit and worse coming out of that wide-open mouth with a hint of an electronic whine coming after. Giselle could only do so much as that gun kept coming closer and closer to being pointed at her face again, struggling to keep control of that and -

"AGH!"

And fighting off the hands that were aiming for the holes in her chassis. Rough fingers half-stripped of their silicone covering grabbed for her, trying to rip out the wires inside. One arm was already half-dead and dying further with each attack, and she could feel her lower body flickering between numb and overheated. The demands of the fight on her processor and power core were getting more and more intense, and she didn't know how much longer she could keep the fight going.

She had to, though. She had to try, or she was going to -

BANG!

Another shot, another near-miss, taking off part of her hair in the process. She screamed, biting her lip in imitation of a living person's fear, the programming inside still working for that, at least.

The Inteleon howled at her again, its fin on its head flaring up and down, eyes wild with white light and binary numbers streaming across the inside of the shell of an eye. It had long since lost its ability to think, to reason, to be a good companion doll. All it could do was attack.

Push...push...

Giselle grunted, trying to push the barrel of the gun up between them. Another shot and she could be done for. She had to -

"AGH!"

She screamed again as the Inteleon shoved its hand inside of her once more, grinding through the hole in her middle, almost busting a fist-sized gap in her chassis. It took everything she had not to black out, to restart through the sparking pain.

She screamed as she finally twisted the barrel away from her head, shoving it up towards the feral Inteleon's face. The other woman looked down, and for a split second, there seemed to be some understanding, some awareness of what was about to happen. There was some sort of intelligence there.

Or maybe it was just the realization that it was about to die. Who cared at that point?

Giselle pulled the trigger, barely, but it was enough. The loud 'BANG!' split the apartment again, and the bullet split the other woman's head open along the side. The microprocessor that was always left in the head was broken in the shot, leaving a hole that would not be reparable.

The Inteleon woman stiffened, gargling and gurgling as it stared into the distance. There was no way for it to speak, barely any way for it to move. Giselle panted, feeding her inner fans air as the other doll started to stiffen up, shake, spasm. Drool that was scented all wrong dribbled from its mouth, drooling down on her face, and she could feel other fluids coating her down below.

As it spasmed and shook, little chunks of the inner material came free. Little bits of shattered chip; the long, synthetic tongue falling from the mouth, lolling free against her chest; the broken eyeball on the side of the head, plastic and glass falling in chips and chunks before the whole lense fell out; it was a mess, completely broken and shattered.

Spit that was more fem-cum than anything else drooled over her, the Inteleon's inner systems obviously confusing what fluid was supposed to go where. Some of it fell over her cheeks, the rest of it -

Plop, plop, plop.

Giselle groaned in frustration, humiliation, and more than a little discomfort as some of it fell on her own eyelids. No pain from that, of course. Dolls didn't feel that with their eyes, but it did make everything more smeared, more blurry. She groaned, moving her arm to try and wipe it clean, only for everything to get much more uncomfortable.

Fuck...fuck...

The Inteleon doll collapsed, flopping over her. The weight was not comforting, nor was the hot gun barrel between the two of them. The metal end was pressed against the dying doll, thankfully, rather than against her, and the smell of melting plastic and silicone was impossible to miss. Her processors registered it, sending the pre-programmed shiver down her spine for the smell of another doll being broken down and injured.

It was not a real fear reaction, merely the self-preservation stuff that had been put into every doll. If another doll was in danger, if another doll was being damaged, then it imitated the fear reaction for the upper life forms that she and the other dolls had been made to serve. It was meant as a way for them to know how to run off, how to stay out of the way of danger. If one of them was damaged, then the others could be, too.

It didn't always work that way, of course. She knew that there were a number of sadist dolls that had that particular reaction twisted. The shivers became pleasurable, the needs to run became the need to deliver that sort of pain and suffering. She had even been around to see it happen.

But she didn't have that herself. All she felt at the death of the thing over her was a sense of relief, a sense that she was safe again, at least for a little while. She groaned, leaning back on her bed, looking at the hole in the wall.

The apartment had been built near the outskirts of Haven, a place where people could flee to. It was more of an outpost that looked over the ruined world than it was anything else, and it was small enough that one could still see the ancient vehicles that towered over it not that far away. What the once-owners would have called 'cars', though they were in bad shape, exploded and ripped apart by ancient malfunctions.

Her 'room' had been configured out of cardboard, stiff and layered enough to stand up to a number of rainstorms, though it was on its last legs, now. She wouldn't be able to stay here for long.

Giselle groaned under the Inteleon doll, shaking her head as she fought herself in her attempts to throw it off. Only one arm worked very well, the other dead to the world save for the occasional spark or flail. There was no way for it to do what she needed it to. All she could do was -

"Get...off..."

She grunted, trying to throw her shoulders from side to side, only to stop that as soon as she started. Her systems were very damaged, and her chassis was worse off than she thought. Running away from the massacre of a trading caravan had stressed her system enough, particularly with all the slips and falls in the loose scree on the road, but being shot as she ran off had left a bunch of holes that the feral had been all too pleased to take advantage of.

In short, her systems were telling her that any extensive wriggling under the Inteleon would break her chassis open, perhaps even go so far as to rip apart the connectors between her upper body and her lower half. Considering that would leave her mostly paralyzed, unable to outrun anything, she didn't want to risk that.

Particularly not when her arm was already fucked. It had been hit with a super-heated round, fucking with both her inner systems and everything else. Even if she was able to replace the arm itself, the plastic was so warped that she doubted it could ever be hammered back into place. She was down to having one working arm, and if she wasn't careful, she could end up fucking that one over, too.

She slumped back against her bed, letting her eyes close for a moment. She needed a reset, anyway. Something to jump-start her systems. Maybe it would let her think of a way forward, too. Giselle entered a restart mode -

Spark.

And just as she was shutting down, something shorted. Nothing extreme, nothing that would trip the safeguards, but just enough for her to know that she'd be waking up to something shitty.

_Running from the massacre, running from the killers. Ferals and raiders at the same time, different people, same dangers. Would be ripped apart for parts, would be broken, would be hurt.

Giselle ran, the Gardevoir tripping and falling on the too-wide road. The path that the once-owners had taken for their cars and more was not made for dolls, and it meant that there was too much space for those that traveled alone. She hit the ground hard, the rough cotton that she wore getting ripped on the big bumps that stuck out of the path.

She rose, half-naked, throwing off her clothes as she ran. White and green, the Gardevoir was too much of a target, anyway, her silicone ass cheeks and breasts bouncing and wobbling. She was a sex toy model, more so than most of the different dolls, and it was working against her now._

Bang bang bang. Pipe guns and worse fired after her, some of the bullets scoring along her outer thighs, one almost taking a chunk out of her hip. It knocked her down, and she struggled to get up.

The ferals chased. Mindless dolls that had been collared and caged, thrown around to make something useful of them. They were always let loose before the raiders, sent down to weaken the guards before the raiders themselves came out.

She knew if they caught her, the ferals would rip her apart. Maybe rape her before feeding on her power core.

She had to get away.

Had to get away.

Had to.

The memory shifted, and she was in the apartment, having found the little cardboard outpost that had been set up at the edge of Haven. Too far to be defended, but close enough to see the goal. She could make it the next day. Make it and be safe.

She slipped down, leaned against the wall, gasped for breath. Her body was oozing bits of fluid, both the stuff that she needed to keep her systems cool, and...

Other things...

Sex toys were designed to be aroused by anything, and she was no exception. Her remaining panties - the only things that she had left - were already half-soaked at the crotch, pressing against her, begging her to give herself some attention. She knew it was wrong, knew that this was the way to get herself caught, but she gave in.

She touched herself. She fingered herself. She felt the panties getting soaked to her synth-skin, the silicone down there warmed and cooled by turns by the different systems of her body. She was feeling the pleasure, feeling the wetness.

Then the feral broke in, and the fight started.

The fight played out, the memory showing her where the damage came, how it was inflicted. The wires that were burned, the ones that were ripped out of place, the ones that needed fixing worse than the others. She could see it all in her head, and she knew what would be needed to fix her. A lot.

She saw the holes in her belly, the ones just under her breasts, the ones that were sparking at her thighs. Everything was fucked, and fucked hard.

She would have sighed if she wasn't just along for the ride. The restart was almost complete.

Spark.

And then it was.

Giselle opened her eyes, but before she could try and move the Inteleon doll again, her mouth opened on its own.

"Hello. Allow me to introduce myself."

What the hell?

"I am Giselle, a Gardevoir Companion Unit. I am yours to do with as you please. Perhaps you would like an assistant to take your papers from one place to another."

Wait, I know this speech.

"Or perhaps you would like something more akin to a pencil holder, to stay still for your viewing pleasure and utilitarian convenience."

Her body tried to move, wanting to bend over, to thrust her hips back and expose herself. Her eyes tried to go wide as she felt shock at her own inability to do the task, and more, at the fact that she wanted to.

Oh, no...

"Or perhaps you merely want me to display myself. You naughty, naughty person..."

She tried to display herself, to move and shift and spread her legs for a customer or client or owner that wasn't even there. She could feel her legs twitching, coming to life just long enough to start to spread. Giselle would have groaned, if she could. This was not what she had wanted, nor what she expected.

Then again, neither was anything else that had happened today.

Her sex was already getting wet in anticipation of showing off for an owner, knowing that she had to allow herself to be wet and visible, shiny and exhibitionistic for the right client to pick her as a good little companion doll. The Gardevoir would have blushed if she could, her cheeks feeling mildly embarrassed as it was, particularly as she started to get wetter and wetter down below.

Her introduction programming was meant to turn her into a good exhibitionistic sex toy for whoever was thinking of buying her, and she knew that there was not much time for her to still have control over her body. She was supposed to show herself off, finger herself, rub herself, get herself all the way to the edge of climax. Then, she was supposed to go over the edge for the pleasure of her new owner.

Yet, as she tried to push the Inteleon doll off of her, trying to get free, her good arm refused, wiggling under the doll instead and working towards her crotch.

Great.

"My body is perfect," she was still saying. "So soft and curvy in all the right places. I promise you, I will get you off again and again and again. Just look at me, stare at me as you enjoy yourself. I'll give you any show that you like. I'm a good little slut girl. I'm a good little slut doll."

The words were coming without her meaning to say them, but they were coming nonetheless. If there was a capacity to blush about what was coming out of her mouth, she would have done it. As it stood, all she could do was keep talking as her hand went further and further down, under the other doll and closer and closer to her waiting sex.

It didn't help that there were a pair of silicone breasts waving around in her face, either. The big boobs were hanging down, barely affected by gravity, but enough to shift side to side as she tried to nudge her hand down to her pussy. She was so close, so near to fingering and rubbing herself, but the blockage...

It was messing with her programming, too, making her loop back to part of her spiel. She groaned as the words came out again.

"I will get you off again and again and again. Just look at me. Stare at me as you enjoy yourself. I'll give you any show that you like. I'm a good little slut girl. I'm a good little slut doll."

The feeling of imagining someone looking at her as she said stuff like that was embarrassing enough, but the fact that she was being made to say those things again and again, unable to stop herself as she tried and failed to reach down to her crotch, was only making it worse. Each little shift swayed the dead boobs back and forth over her face, the silicone shifting and distending the breasts slightly, making them hang down further, making them look slightly misshapen despite their perfection.

She groaned. This was torture, she swore, some sort of horrible torture that she couldn't -

"Ooooh, yes, sir, look how wet I am," she said, her programming evidently deciding on the gender of her client. She found her pussy, rubbing herself over her panties. She was so close, so close already, her pussy so soaking wet that her panties felt like they were almost painted on. "Look how wet I am for you. I could cum just from you staring at me. Don't you like how soaked I am? Don't you like how eager I am for you?"

She knew that the canned phrases were there to turn someone on, but she couldn't help but groan as she realized that she was slowly turning herself on. That was not part of the plan, but at the same time, she couldn't help it. Her body wanted to be horny. Her body wanted to be used, touched, stared at.

It was what she was designed for, after all. Her silicone cheeks clenched, her breasts rose and fell with artificial pants as she worked herself up. Her inner systems were still on the verge of overheating, and she knew that she was still in the danger zone, but her body wouldn't stop. It was stuck in the reboot phase.

She worked her finger down to her pussy, feeling how it showed through her panties. She could feel non-existent eyes on her, moaned from the feeling of her slender digits working into her inflating, puffy pussy. It was made to look nice and inviting, and the sex dolls like her could add a bit more fluid down there, inflating the flesh to look heated and inviting.

She moaned as she worked herself up harder, feeling her juices flowing freely into her panties. They were getting wetter and wetter, and if she'd been damaged down there, she would have been in trouble. Thankfully, all the holes in her body seemed to be up at her torso rather than down there. For now, she was okay.

In and out, in and out her fingers went, pushing her panties a little way into the slippery little slut hole that the doll had. She moaned as the silicone parted, as her hole stretched in a way that no living hole could.

And she knew that she was close.

"Oooh, I'm going to cum for you," she said as she felt the programming take control again. "I'm going to cum for you, cum all over your desk. You're going to love it. I promise. I'm a good little slut doll. Good little slut girl. All yours. All yours. All -"

Giselle was going to scream, she knew, scream as she came. There was no way that she could stop it, and she felt the urge to sit up, the urge to look down at herself as she came -

And she couldn't. Her fingers froze right on the edge of getting her off, and a wave of frustration came through her processors. The release that she had almost been looking forward to had suddenly been denied her. She gasped, panting, and then felt the programming loop back again.

"Oooh, yes, sir, look how wet I am," she found herself saying, pushing her legs apart, her hand starting to rub her once more as she was no longer on the edge of orgasm. "Look how wet I am for you."

And the lines continued, her excitement building even as Giselle tried to figure out what had just happened. She was supposed to have been ready to cum. She was going to cum for the customer, show off for him. Why did she stop? Why did she -

Oh. Right. The end of the program line.

She could see it now. She was supposed to sit up, to stare down at herself, to see herself cum as she squirted. That was hardwired in, an action that she was required to take in order to finish off the whole thing. There was no way for her to finish without actually going through that particular bit of humiliation.

She blushed as she realized that she was more trapped than she expected, knowing that it was only a matter of time before she would be forced to go through it again. The Inteleon on her kept her from moving up, and if she didn't shift the doll -

"Oooh, I'm going to cum for you," she said again. "I'm going to cum for you, cum all over your desk. You're going to love it. I promise. I'm a good little slut doll. Good little slut girl. All yours. All yours. All -"

And she froze again. Her pussy stopped being on fire, her needs stopped rising. She groaned under her breath, her hand coming back under her control again. She had to move the Inteleon quick.

Shifting her hand around so that it was pressed under the hulk of dead doll, she managed to inch it to the side. Not far. Not more than a quarter of the way off of her, but enough to give her a bit of a -

"Ooooh, yes, sir, look how wet I am."

And just like that, her hand was back down between her legs, rubbing over her swollen pussy lips, trying to get herself off once more. Giselle moaned, and not just from her programming. She could feel her own hunger rising, the urge to get off, the urge to cum getting harder and harder to resist. She wanted nothing more than to cum, to let it all out, to let herself go over the edge, but the pressure on her body was forcing her to stay down.

It didn't help that it was pushing on her bladder and lower body, too, keeping her pushing out more and more fluids. Her artificial containers were only so able to hold back from that sort of thing, and she felt a bit of shame as she realized that her fingers were getting wetter and wetter.

Good girl dolls weren't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be good, to be able to hold back, to allow themselves some self-control. Not -

"Ooooh, I'm going to cum for you," she said, hitting the edge for the third time. "I'm going to cum for you, all over your desk. You're going to love it. I promise. I'm a good little slut doll. Good little slut girl. All yours. All yours. All -"

And again, she felt the urge, she started to sit up...and she was stalled again, unable to pull herself all the way up, unable to look down at her own pussy. She groaned as she flopped back, her hand under her control again, but only for a few seconds. Fast, had to be fast. Another push, another shove, trying to get -

"Oooh, yes, sir, look how wet I am."

Another start. She groaned, whimpering, biting her lips as the pleasure started to rise again, a torturous experience like nothing else. She was losing her mind, her eyes rolling back in their sockets as she felt the pleasure rising up.

She had never gone through something like this before. All the different pleasurable sensations that the dolls she'd been with had given her had gone from start to orgasm, never this rise and fall of need that would never seem to end. She groaned in utter frustration, her fingers pushing her panties against her pussy once more, grinding down on her, tormenting her again and again and again.

More and more, she felt the urge to cum, her bladder and her pussy and her lower half spasming from the need that was building up to an insane level. She didn't know how much longer she could handle it, how many more loops she could afford to go through.

She was right on the verge again, the words coming to her lips once more.

"Oooh, I'm going to cum for you," she said, gasping as she slapped her hand against her pussy, trying to push harder, faster, to cum from it this time.

"I'm going to cum for you, all over your desk."

Please, just let her cum. Let her lose it. Let her go all the way over the edge.

"You're going to love it, I promise. I'm a good little slut doll. Good little slut girl. All yours. All yours. All -"

She gasped, leaning forward, looking down -

But still not enough. Giselle wanted to scream as she fell back again, her arm under her control again. She shoved hard as she could, her hand almost coming off in the process, and then sat up once more.

This time, she could touch herself properly. This time, she could -

"Ooooh, yes, sir, look how wet I am."

She had never been this helpless before, never been this broken-down by her own programming and limitations. From trying to become a mercenary, from trying to make a name for herself and a safe place to live, she had been rendered down to the most basic of sex toy dolls, left with nothing but one working arm and a pussy that would not stop juicing itself.

It was humiliating. It was disturbing. It left her completely helpless to anyone and anything that wanted to try and take advantage of her.

And for all that, she was hornier than she had been in a long, long, long time. She groaned under her breath as she felt her pussy clenching down, trying to cum again, and this time, she was able to look down. This time, she was able to stare at herself as the words came to her one more time, trying and failing to speed through them. Damnable processor forcing her to say it at a slower, if more breathy, sort of pace.

"Oooh, I'm going to cum for you. I'm going to cum for you, cum all over your desk. You're going to love it. I promise. I'm a good little slut doll. Good little slut girl. All yours. All yours. All youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurs!"

She screamed the last one as she forced herself to stare down at her crotch as she finally went over the edge, and she felt the pleasurable bolts and blasts of pleasure running up and down her body. She was cumming, cumming, and cumming again, her eyeballs trying and failing to roll back in their sockets. Her panties, already soaked a dark red around the pale crimson that was up near her hips, turned almost black from the squirts that came flying from her sex. It was a hot, musky smell, something that was chemically designed to arouse the owners that they should have had.

Giselle moaned again, and again, fingering herself deeply, forcing herself to enjoy everything that was happening, feeling the squirts that bubbled through her panties, coating her fingers and leaving them slick with slime. There was every humiliation for this, every little reminder of how wrong and deviant she was to even somewhat enjoy this.

It was a reminder of how she was a sex doll, not a mercenary, but for all that, she didn't care. All that mattered was that she was cumming!

Clench, squeeze, crack. She could feel the tension running through her artificial body, feel the way that it worsened some of her states. Sparks flew out of the holes in her chassis, various systems almost shorting out from the sheer volume of fluid that was coming free. She couldn't stop it, couldn't help it, didn't care.

The pain in her arm was not great, either. The broken bits at the shoulder, the hole that was half-blown through her, the melted plastic from the injury, all of that got worse as everything tightened up, but again, she barely cared. All that mattered was the pleasure.

The orgasm went on and on, her body spasming so hard that she was half-afraid she'd be stuck in an endless loop, cumming and squirting and cumming and squirting and -

But it was not to be. She finally broke out of it, flopping back on her bed, her hand falling to her side. Her arm wasn't happy with her, but...well, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. She could have lost its use completely from the way that she had been jamming it inside of her.

As it was, she managed to look down again. Her bed was soaked, the sheets completely stained, and the room stank of a horny doll. She groaned, her head flopping back -

Only for her eyes to open wide again as she realized that there was something else that now had a problem.

"Uh-oh..."

Giselle could feel the information coming up from her lower processors. All the pleasure had distracted her, but the pressure of the Inteleon doll had pushed down on more than just her damaged body. It had also pushed down on the fluid containers in her core, and that included her synthetic bladder.

Dolls didn't normally pee, save for as a way to get rid of excess fluid build-up that didn't come out through their sex, or as a way for getting rid of energy-less fluid that was no longer needed. It was less of a need for them than for biological things, and Giselle had probably only had a full bladder a couple of times in her life.

But this was the first time that someone had actually put pressure on it, forcing it to feel fuller than it was, and forcing it to push down. Now that she was aware of it, she knew that there was no easy way for her to hold it back.

"Nnngh..."

She should have rolled, moved from the bed, done something. She knew that it was wrong, lazy, almost feral to just lie there and let it happen. It was another step towards being a worse person, a less-than-good doll.

Yet, she had no strength...and she felt so good from that orgasm...

"Thank you...for watching me...sir..."

And there was the last part of her selling spiel. She blushed as she felt the warmth running down her inner tubing, making its way to her sex. The heat that was still there from all her fluids suddenly got hotter, and she gasped as her 'urine' reached the open air, soaking her all over again.

Giselle blushed, then shuddered, then slowly went limp as she felt the hot liquid running against the inside of her panties. It was almost cleaning them, in a way, cutting through all the slime and fem-cum that had been left behind with the orgasm. It wasn't perfect, as there was still some left, but it left her panties warm, and made sure that they clung to her all the harder compared to how they had been before.

The Gardevoir doll groaned. There was every reason to feel humiliated for going through this, and she felt somewhere beyond humiliated for what she had suffered. That attack had wrecked her, made her go through something that all dolls should only go through once. Now, she had gone through it twice, and if she had another short, she could end up going through it a third time.

And yet, at the same time, she felt like it wouldn't be that bad to enjoy something like that. It wasn't like it hurt her to go through it, and it wasn't like there had been an audience to see her humiliation.

An audience...

And just like that, the hunger for one started to grow. Giselle groaned, shutting her eyes and initiating a temporary shutdown. She needed to not think for a while, and that was the closest to full sleep that she could get.

The End