Soviet Doll

She stood frozen for several moments as the magnetic tape whirred within her. In this moment the sun peeked out over the horizon casting bright rays on Valentina, causing her slightly glossy plastic synth-skin to glisten. A complex algorithm driving thousands of calculations a second determined an appropriate outfit based on the weather, her days activities, and what she had worn the preceding five days.

Sliding open the double doors to her spacious closet and exposing her immense selection of clothing, Valentina aptly grabbed for a pair of jet black leggings. She slid them on fluidly; manufactured precisely to fit her perfectly engineered dimensions, they hugged her legs tightly and cradled her soft derriere flawlessly. She grabbed a matching pair of pumps, their aggressive heels fitted with cold-resistant viton pads to help her grip the icy city streets. Next, she pulled an a silhouette-hugging halter top light gray dress. The form fitting number was fitted with a charitably sized cleavage window and its skirt ended just beneath the gluteal folds of her pale, plush ass cheeks. Two inches of exposed upper thigh separated it and the tops of her glossy black leggings.

Valentina finished the ensemble by draping a lavish fur scarf around her neck. She fiddled with its ends, ensuring the exposed surfaces of her breasts were on full, unimpeded display. She spun to face the full body mirror that hung on the inside of one of her closet doors and examined herself using the intricately ground glass lens apertures of her inner eyes.

After a quick set of calculations, Valentina's main processing bus determined a slight adjustment to her cleavage was advantageous for her current garment to properly show off the subtle inner curves of her stretchy bosom. The brushless motors beneath her shoulders triggered on and gently tugged at the elastomer fibers embedded within her pliable breasts pulling them ever-so-slightly apart. After their relocation, each boob quickly settled into their new resting state, but the motor behind her left mammary stalled out and refused to shut down. It sputtered and hitched, causing Valentina's left breast to quiver and jiggle uncontrollably.

Her main processing bus cut off power to the rogue motor and this quickly remedied the situation. Pleased with her appearance, Valentina closed the closet doors and walked over to the telegraph. She quickly tapped out the details of this minor hardware fault to the automated receiver, adding it to the small list of repairs she required at her next maintenance session.

Confident she was now fully ready for today's operations, she walked out the entrance of her apartment and locked the door behind her. She noticed her neighbor in the hallway staring longingly at her plastic curves and she shot him a flirty smile. Better to keep those who lived around her thinking they could one day have a chance with her.

She walked to elevator and rode it down to the lobby.

Valentina walked purposefully through the apartment lobby, the dull rubber soles of her heels making deep 'THUNK' noises against the tiled floor. She saw Peter at the front desk with an armful of large boxes and waved politely as she passed.

With arms full, Peter watched her walk by, her breasts bouncing, as intended, through the cleavage window of her stretchy winter dress.

The cute concierge, smitten with Peter's athletic body and charismatic face, remarked at the lettering on hi boxes. "What's RFE mean?"

Peter smiled, and with a buzz of excitement replied. " 'Radio Free Europe.' A few friends I know there sent me some...toys."

The concierge jumped up enthusiastically, her bust also bouncing, behind her tight tank top. "Ooh can I see?"

Peter winked and spun 180 degrees, walking away. "Not yet. Maybe later."

The concierge sat down dejectedly and fiddled with her dazzling blonde bob.

-- --

Valentina stood impatiently in line at one of West Berlin's busiest outdoor markets. The sky had turned dark gray from the beautiful blue of the early morning, and the temperature had fallen several degrees. Heavy flakes of snow floated lazily through the air, consistently getting caught in her exaggeratedly long, false eyelashes. She blinked erratically, with varying degrees of success, to dislodge the large snow flakes; their presence rendered her vision blurry, as her complex array of glass lenses struggled to focus with the flakes obstructing the foreground of her field of view.

Her brown hair blew in the wind, the tips of her neatly trimmed bangs dancing on the edge of her ultra lifelike elastomer forehead.

Her systems felt slightly uneasy as she stood content standing in the queue, her embedded atmospheric thermometers constantly relayed her main processing bus live temperature readings of the surrounding air. She still had several degrees to spare before the cold temperatures would begin to hamper the functionality of her most delicate components, but her handlers preferred her to avoid her operating when public when she approached her temperature limits.

Miles of magnetic tape whizzed by inside her meticulously designed plastic chest, performing thousands of calculations a second to determine her best course of action. After almost a minute of frenetic computation, her main processing bus decided she would finish this morning's reconnaissance mission quickly and then head straight back to her apartment complex.

Valentina reached the front of the line just moments later. She winked at the outdoor butcher, Stefan, and picked up a large salami. Fixing her electric green eyes on him, she candidly ran her hands up and down the length of the cured piece of meat.

She pitched her voice up half an octave, knowing from previous experience that's how he preferred it. "Mmm hi Stefan! Do you have any more of these meats back in the shop? I'd just love to buy some more from you."

With almost hyperbolic quickness Stefan jumped up, donning a large gray hat and an equally drab overcoat. He pointed towards his son. "Andreas, you're in charge while I help the lovely lady. I'll be back before lunch." His voice was garish and screamed of a lifelong Berliner. He guided his hand onto the small of Valentina's back. "Come, let's go."

Stefan's hand was warm on the small of her back. The thermo-conductive gel layer of her skin registered the heat along with the pressure of his touch as discretized voltage patterns that were interpreted at her Touch Perception Performance Terminal as modestly pleasurable. She pushed herself into his hand harder, encouraging him to explore further as they walked.

His hand moved lower, and through her tight dress he grabbed at her plush gluteal folds. She turned to him and bit her lip charmingly. "MmmHmm, Stefan tell me about the tunnels."

He turned to her confusedly. "Tunnels?" His hand continued feeling her spongy derriere. "What are you talking about Valentina?"

Together, they quietly walked through a narrow alley. Valentina leaned in and pecked him on the cheek and spoke, her high-pitched slavic accent carefully emanating from the speaker installed at the back of her artificial mouth. "You were telling me last week Stefan! About how you get some of your most expensive meats from a friend in East Berlin who brings them under the city. That sounds so interesting, I want to know more."

Several of Valentina's self defense protocols almost fired into operation as Stefan forcefully pushed her against the hard brick wall of the alley. Her Touch Perception Performance Terminal did not like this. She frowned at him confusedly.

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. "Let us talk about in the shop. This is not a topic to be discussing in the open streets. The British...the Americans...they would kill me over this knowledge you understand?"

Valentina nodded.

"Now let's go."

Several minutes later they arrived at Stefan's butcher shop. He unlocked the door and they moved inside.

Instantly, he again forced Valentina against the wall. This time her systems expected it; she arched her back against the cold tile wall, pushing herself into Stefan's arms.

He dug his hands into her pert breasts and pushed his excited groin up and against her warm mound. Valentina brought her lips to his where they shared long, wet kiss.

Smiling, she pushed him off and got down on her knees. With dexterous fingers she undid his pants and exposed his rigid member through the slot in his conventional briefs. She swallowed him. Her full, soft lips enveloped his manhood as she expertly pistoned up and down his aching shaft.

She popped off of him and looked up, grinning enticingly. A few small beads of her artificial saliva ran down the corners of her mouth.

Stefan reached down, grabbed the back of Valentina's head, and thrust her ruby red lips back onto his erection. With pneumatic precision she moved her delicate synthetic tongue all around his most sensitive areas.

She bobbed again and again, increasing Stefan's pleasure with each meticulous movement of her soft, yielding lips.

When she sensed he was nearing climax she again popped off his member. She looked up at him seductively and slowly worked her hands over his wet shaft. "MmmHmmmMmmm Stefan. You taste so good! Tell me about the tunnels, they sound so fun!"

Stefan winced as his orgasm neared and neared, but never arrived. "Ughhhhh. Valen...Valentina, they're nothing. They're not special." He was breathy.

Valentina licked her lips and squeezed his firmness between her fingers. "Unnnnngggghhhh! Okay. There is a bakery in Pankow, if you go in the basement there's a cellar door takes you to three separate tunnels. They all run under the wall and they all end up in different parts of Reinickendorf. My friend Petrov knows the baker, he brings me some cheeses that you can only get out of Poland. I buy them and re-brand them, that's it. I don't know what else they use them for.

Valentina launched back onto Stefan's glistening manhood with a feverish intensity; simultaneously she stored the tunnel information into her un-corruptible magnetic-flux shielded magnetic memory. She sensed Stefan's oncoming orgasm just as she finished saving and activated a small vacuum pump located deep within her throat. She swallowed his load and kept her lips locked onto him for several moments. When she determined he was done she mouth away and wiped her face with his shirt.

He leaned against the back wall, panting and out of breath.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked towards the door. With a slutty smile she pirouetted and gestured towards the display of meats.

"Oh and Stefan, thanks for the salami."

-- --

Valentina exited the bitter cold and strode into the lobby of her apartment building. To prevent a buildup of condensation within her delicate electric internals from the abrupt temperature change, dozens of small fans booted up in sequence all throughout her body. Hidden behind the multiple layers of viscoelastic foams, polyethylene fibers, and thermo-conductive gels that made up the springy softness of her satiny synth-skin, the nearly silent fans blew air out a handful of expertly disguised seams in her flawless dermal wrapping.

She was relieved to have made it back inside the heated building where her temperature sensitive components could gradually warm back up to their full operational capacity.

Opening the steel door, Valentina glided into the bar. She scanned the room. It was empty, except for Peter steadily manning the bar.

Music played loudly over the room's speakers, unusual for the normally quiet space. The music's low frequencies interfered with several of her ambient audio-sweeping microphone arrays. Her rudimentary logic deduction processor bus thought nothing of it and queried each array to reboot; they would be restarted and functioning again in only a couple minutes.

She walked up to her usual stool and climbed on gracefully, perfectly executing on the familiar subroutine. She pushed the silicone padding of her per backside into the hard metal stool, using the gyroscopic balancing system buried an inch behind her navel to keep herself prettily perched on her seat.

As she flattened the bottom of her dress against the top her legs, Peter had quietly walked past the bar's entrance, and silently bolted the steel door shut. Valentina's temporarily handicapped auditory suite didn't pick up on it.

He returned behind the bar just as Valentina had finished making adjustments to her provocatively tight dress.

"The usual, Valentina?"

Shh looked at him and batted her eyelashes, smiling shyly. "Please."

"Alright, coming right up."

Peter span around and began making the drink. Valentina noticed he was only wearing a T-shirt, peculiar for the barman who was usually dressed formally. The shirt was tight; her ocular sensors focused in on his broad shoulders and strong arms.

Valentina determined with high probability that Peter could tax her sophisticated sexual performance suite better than anyone had since her initial activation. The never ending parade of politicians, gangsters, and military strategists she seduced never came close to full utilization of her robust carnal software routines and coital hardware modules. Her plastic nipples stiffened through the snug fabric of her dress as she ran several simulations where Peter's strong arms pushed down on her and his dexterous fingers played her like the refined sexual instrument she was.

These simulations were new, never before showing up prior to her update from the night prior. Her rudimentary logic deduction processor bus began tying the two events together with long strings of expertly crafted algorithmic code written onto her durable magnetic tape.

She fidgeted in her seat, ensuring her bosom was constantly pointed in Peter's direction. Her fingers teasingly played with the ends of her hair as she smiled flirtingly.

Valentina's "thoughts" were interrupted as Peter forcefully set down her drink on the bar. She saw his hand reach beneath the bar and heard two switches flip.

Instantly, a massive voltage spike overwhelmed the dozens of capacitors in her spike suppressors and her fail-safe discharge tubes ruptured. The intense voltage melted together several electrical wires connected to her main power supply.

Simultaneously, an intense electromagnetic wave flowed through her, causing her delicate array of gyroscopes to spin and flip wildly. For a moment, Valentina's conceptual three dimensional model of her surroundings disintegrated completely. She fell backwards off her stool, crashing into the hard tiled floor beneath her with a tinny 'CRACK'.

On the floor, she twitched and buckled wildly as the voltage slowly dissipated from her systems. Her eyes crossed and lids shuttered as thin wisps of white smoke floated up from her camoflauged seams.

After several moments, her systems cataloged the damage she had taken and re-routed power and processing capacity accordingly. She stood up and faced Peter, her breasts still perched buoyantly on her chest. Her head twitched sharply as she spoke. "Peter, I'm not feeling well. You must excuse me."

As she spun to face the exit, Arthur again flicked a switch and an intense electromagnetic wave knocked out her gyroscopic navigation system. Her scarf was flung violently from its resting place around her neck, and she fell stiffly forward, again colliding into the floor with a hollow 'SNAP'.

With her axis stabilizers out of whack, Valentina flailed aimlessly on the ground in a futile attempt to continue walking towards the exit. After nearly a minute the system rebooted. With a loud BUZZ of struggling mechanical components, Valentina pushed herself back up into a standing position. She turned to face Peter. "Peter, I'm not feel-eel-eel-eel-eel-ing-ing-ing well well well. You mmmmmmmuuuuuusssstttttt excu-cu-cu-cuse me me me."

Arthur flicked another switch and watched a torrent of voltage run from behind the bar and across the conductive makeup of the tile's grout where it exploded upwards into Valentina. The surge of electricity caused her to hitch up, white smoke again puffed out from newly visible seams. A panel above her breasts popped off, exposing the fried circuits underneath. Wires erupted in an explosion of sparks from the crux of her elbow and the base of her neck. Her eyes crossed and she remained inertly still, only the light crackling of failing resistors and capacitors causing her two twitch erroneously.

Peter marveled at her. Even in her compromised state he was enamored with Valentina. He approached her hesitantly; springs came un-torqued within her delicate arms and pierced through her convincing synth-skin. He stepped up examine her closely and she crumpled into his arms.

"Peterrrrr, I'm not feeling welll...You musstttttttttt excussssseeeee meeee."

Vacant eyed, she stared up at Peter who carefully dragged her into the bar's back office. He set her into a beat-up leather recliner. She tried moving her neck to follow his movements but was only met with a series of harsh scraping noises. She opened her plastic mouth to speak but could only speak in light digitized static.

Arthur turned on the radio on his cluttered desk; he fiddled with the dial until the hiss of radio static gave way to the voice of calm German man. He spoke flatly and consistently.

"6. 33. 55. 90. 12. 11."

"8. 21. 45. 13. 91. 17."

"4. 29. 34. 40. 40. 32."

Arthur crept out of the room, ensuring the soviet robo-doll was still active. He gingerly put a hand on her shoulder. "I have a feeling you're going to have quite the different disposition come tomorrow morning Valentina."

He kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight"