Attempted Villainy

Vanessa slams the door shut. The very walls shiver as she does so. She grumbles to herself as she walks inside. One arm being held tightly to her side, applying pressure to her body. Each step is slow and laboured. Her left leg barely seems to work, so her right drags her forehead one bit at a time. She finds her chair and collapses into it. She sits in front of a table, where her intricate and complex plans are all laid out. A large map with all sorts of figures and blueprint documents littered around it. “This is just ridiculous…” She mumbles to herself. She gazes at all of the hard work before her, which only seems to enrage her further. “Days of perfect planning, all ruined by stupid grunts and complete bullshit chance…” Venessa complains. She grasps one of the little pawns from the table. She closely inspects it as she reflects on what has just happened to her. Rage builds further and further, until she can no longer control herself and she crushes the figure in her fist. Reducing it to a fine dust that she lets drift towards the floor.

Now she turns her attention down to her own body. She brushes her long blackish-purple hair to the side in order to get a better look at it. Her outfit is a white jacket with a large collar. In the center is a patch of lavender material. Part of her top around her stomach is completely torn, exposing the mangled metal components underneath. Adorning the rest of it are smaller slashes and gashes. Her legs appear to be adorning something that straddles the line between pants and tights. Made of quite the durable material, with parts coloured black and the majority remaining white. She has small red highlights on her thighs and on her gloves which complete the look in quite a pleasant way. But these visuals are not the results of a fashion choice, but rather it is her very body itself. The only piece of detachable clothing she wears is her jacket. Underneath she is built from an almost latex material neck to toe. Her face is made of a synthetic skin material that implies the rest of her body follows suit. Instead her body is designed to resemble some form of clothing, and underneath that is her metallic interior. The illusion of humanity is paper thin, instantly revealed by the breaches in her body from the battle she just returned from.

Her purple scarf droops from her neck before falling daintily to the floor, torn in a way that prevents it clinging to her as designed. But what is most noticeable when she looks down at herself is the damage that lingers. Odd and uncomfortable hardware errors, broken pieces, and all sorts of problems that just get exponentially worse with each passing second. Walking is made difficult by one of her feet being split down the center. It separates into two halves, while in the middle is where part of her jet systems lay. Her right foot is just stuck in this position, unable to return to normal and provide her any meaningful balance. So she just has to stumble from place to place until she can fix whatever defect has caused this problem. She raises her foot ever so slightly, and then slams it into the ground with a fairly tapered strength. Just enough to perhaps dislodge the piece and allow it to return to normal. But instead one of two halves is nudged further out of place, becoming unaligned with the other. Vanessa can’t even motivate the energy to focus on it yet, so just continues to physically browse the instantly visible problems with her mangled body.

On her right arm there is a large metal structure jutting out. It houses numerous small holes which lead into her body. This piece is part of her weapons system, a large missile carrier that can launch a number of munitions at a staggering pace. But right now it is unable to retreat back into her body, instead stubbornly remaining out and open. Luckily she is out of missiles, otherwise a single wrong move could blow this office to smithereens, destroying all of her hard work and herself in the process. But regardless, rather than finding its way back into her body, it sticks out. Completely refusing to budge.

Some nondescript metal chunk begins to slide out of place. She quickly puts her hand back on the gaping cavity to prevent it from completely falling out. She curses once again. “I never fail in my plans. I am the best villain this world has seen. They will soon all know my name!” Vannessa proclaims to no one at all. The empty room lacks any sort of object to direct her anger towards. So instead she is left stewing in her frustration. But eventually the blaring warning sirens within her head, perpetrated by her operating system, force her to shift attention.

“WARNING WARNING WARNING… PLEASE SEEK REPAIRS TO CRITICAL SYSTEMS… WARNING WARNING WARNING…” It yells, not exactly providing any especially valuable information.

She stands up from her chair, angrily sweeping the table clear of the papers and figures that cover it. Remnants of her long nights planning topple to the floor without any grace or ceremony. Vannessa stumbles over to the nearby couch in the corner of the room, and falls onto it. Her back lands on the fluffy upholstery. She begins to undo the zipper down the center of her jacket. She pulls the outerwear off. Leaving her about as naked as she is physically capable of being. The black, red and white colour scheme completely covers her, with various cybernetic looking patterns keeping it aesthetically pleasing. The most gaudy part of her look is the way her breast forms are pitch black with red rings circulating where her nipples would be. It is a quite eye-catching design, which is why she usually keeps her jacket on when outside.

She tosses her jacket off to the side of the room without much care. Still precariously keeping herself together as she lays, completely unable to actually rest. If she lets herself truly slump into the seat, her body will basically fall apart at the seams. Nothing is working right, and the few things that are still somewhat still alright will completely collapse on themselves the moment any pressure is applied awkwardly. It is a mess, through and through. There is little she can do but try her best to piece things together.

The issue is then with Vanessa. She refuses to admit fault in any way, so she has refused to ever learn how to perform self-maintenance. She found the very act of it is practically admitting defeat, so she saw it as a weakness. Now that she is in the position that it is all she can hope to do, she finds new ways to contradict reality and pretend she is still victorious in her endeavours. She gathers her thoughts together, and decides to start with the large hole in the side of her body. She raises her arm once more and gazes into the abyss within herself. Vanessa can see some blinking lights inside. She is unsure which mass of technological complexity fulfills whatever function she needs. She reaches in to sort of poke one of the pieces that sticks out of place, and instantly feels a jolt through her entire body. It almost shocks her, but it isn’t an entirely negative sensation. Just one that feels weird. She doesn’t know what to think about it, so she simply decides not to.

“Of course I am left dealing with the mistakes of others!” She says, shifting blame to her underlings. “I am the only one who could possibly shoulder all of these responsibilities anyway.” She says, somehow managing to spin it into a compliment directed to herself. She takes a more bold action and plunges her hand into her body. She can see one component hanging off of a cable that is still just barely connected to her motherboard. With two careful fingers, Vanessa carefully pushes it back into place. It awkwardly scrapes along the walls of her body until it settles into the frame it is meant to stay in. As she lets go, it instantly falls back to where it just was, leading Vanessa to let out a loud groan.

“ESTABLISHING CONNECTION… NEW DEVICE REGISTERED… SUDDEN DISCONNECTION DETECTED. PLEASE PROPERLY EJECT DEVICE BEFORE REMOVING.”

She pushes it back once more, but this time with considerably less care. Some metal dust and ever so small steel chips trickle out of her, but she pays it no mind. Once in place, she keeps it there with her hand. Then pushes it into the frame, hoping for it to click in and remain. But after it blatantly refuses to, no matter how much pressure she applies, Vanessa goes for a different strategy.

With her other hand she reaches in and grabs the now slack cable. She wraps it around the component, using its tautness to hold the entire thing in place. This puts tremendous stress on the cable, all so it can precariously hold something up in a way that is likely to fall under any pressure. But regardless, she considers it a victory.

“ESTABLISHING CONNECTION… NEW D- DISCONNECTION DETECTED. ESTABLISHING CONNECTION… NEW D- DISCONNECTION DETECTED.”

Her system reads. Due to how it hangs and the pressure on the wire, it wavers between connectivity or removal, never quite settling. With this one part delicately “in place”, despite its desperation to come apart soon, she continues on. She reaches down, still frustrated. But then she pauses. Vanessa has all these strong feelings running through her head. Her CPU is burning hot. Both in part due to the damage it’s received, but also these strong sensations she can’t ignore.

“CRITICAL CPU TEMPERATURE WARNING. ENGAGING MAXIMUM LIQUID COOLANT. ENGAGING MAXIMUM POWER FANS.” Her system tries to correct, though the effort is in vain.

She refuses to engage with and deal with her feelings. She can’t possibly admit to herself that she failed. In fact it is not just a refusal, it is basically an incapability. Her programming is so strongly wired to build this persona of confidence and grandiosity. She can’t possibly work out her faults and grow. So she has to assume all of her failures aren’t actually failures, and the problems she faces both aren’t problems and they are problems but other people's faults. All of this forced contradiction just adds to her frustration. The stress of complicated psychology given simple and strong restrictions like this absolutely leaves its mark on her.

But she has found that there is a way to relieve some of this tension. Something that she has fallen on before, and will continue to use in the future. She doesn’t quite understand it, her internal data centers have basically no coverage on anything of the sort. Instead she has slowly discovered it herself with fractured information.

She reaches down and presses the area between her legs. Vanessa does not have a biological body. She does not have genitalia for her to utilise sexually. But regardless of whatever intent her designers had when doing so, they did extend an olive branch to her. In the place where her vagina would be, it is smooth. Covered with her body-suit looking outer layer, with electronics and mechanics underneath. But there is a large sensor in that area that when stimulated provides a similar response in her head. Sending digital signals that replicate the human dopamine response are sent to her simulated consciousness.

She lays her fingers on her crotch. Beginning gently, the only soft action she knows how to perform. But quickly she begins to pick up the pace and enjoy the sensations more and more. Her hips gently buck into her fingers, almost grinding against herself. The one thing she can truly enjoy besides the destruction of her foes. She has no need to breathe, but her system automatically begins to pick up the pace of her simulated respiratory program to convey her growing desire and excitement. As it soothes her anguish and excites her further, her whole body moves more and more. But eventually she can’t stop herself from being too physically invested, and the bigger movements start to rattle the already brittle mess within her. Vaness doesn’t notice it right away. Wires being jostled out of place, small metal shards being shaken up, it doesn’t demand significant attention.

Though she is not able to overlook and ignore her body when a large component disconnects from its slot. Falling out of place, slamming into other delicate parts. She bites down to prevent a yelp from escaping her lips. She raises her finger from its spot in order to investigate the nature of what just happened. Vanessa is flushed, her body actively reacting to the excitement elicited from the self pleasure. So her senses are further dulled on top of her already exhausted and impaired thinking. Her CPU is unable to act at full efficiency due to the hardware issues she is experiencing.

“DISCONNECTION DETECTED.”

What fell out of place was a hefty fan. Large blades tightly packed together, with a powerful motor to spin them at impossibly fast speeds. The entire piece is held together in plastic casing which is littered with a number of cracks and splits. It seems that due to the casing chipped on the corner stopped it from properly fitting in the correct spot, allowing it to fall out. She holds it up to her face, carefully looking over the whole of the machine. Vanessa then looks down at the slot it is supposed to be held in, and tries just simply shoving it back in. There are two cables that are supposed to connect to it. One presumably for power, while the other controls data which is connected to her motherboard. One of the cables has completely ripped, but the other is still intact and seems to have just disconnected.

She gingerly holds the still functional cable in one hand and tries plugging it back in. As it forms a connection, she feels the sudden rush of electricity. First it speeds into the smaller machine, then floods back into her with updated information.

“DEVICE REGISTERED. NO POWER DETECTED. PLEASE CONNECT POWER CABLE.”

She almost shivvers with delight, the way the little trickles of electric signals run through her body. She is almost sad she can’t plug the other cable in to receive a similar little bump of pleasure like that.

Vanessa gazes longingly into her own body. Perusing the internal destruction within. “I will beat them next time…” She mutters to herself, the painful reminder of her failure painted all across the broken machinery. Only as she says that, a dialogue line almost cuts off her sentence with a different perspective. “It is all worth it for the wondrous victory I had!” She cheers out suddenly. It is not merely her speech that rapidly oscillates from these opposing perspectives, but her very mind as well. She is completely convinced that in some vague way she had won. The possibility of defeat scarcely exists in her mind. But sometimes it takes a while for her system to kick in and squash her consciousness drawing other conclusions from basic reality.

She plunges her hand into herself and pulls out a completely mangled hunk of metal. What was once a delicately designed intricate wonder of robotics is now just junk. It used to be one of her numerous data centers, containing some decently important memory backups and knowledge of the world around her. Vanessa crunches it further in her hand. Unable to determine its purpose, and angry at what it represents. Perhaps she would have been able to identify the piece if it was still connected and she had access to its data within.

Her memory data for the events of the day still run through her head over and over again. She is completely unable to prevent her mind from keeping her defeat fresh, despite the constant insistence from her code that she couldn't lose, can’t lose, she has never lost. Another wave of anger washes over her. She feels unable to focus on anything else, the feelings are overwhelming. Vanessa is almost unable to keep her arms from shaking due to the intensity of her thoughts and feelings. She doesn’t know how to handle it, and every time she moves she feels something else break.

Every little shift in her body, every wire cut on a sharp edge or torn from place, every crack and snap within her… It all serves to further that irreconcilable division in her head. The rage over losing without being physically capable of thinking she has lost. Her system can’t limit her to the point that she just erases the memories of the loss from her head, it would turn her into a bot so simple she couldn’t walk down the street correctly. So instead her designers just left her with this unending mental anguish and strife.

Vanessa grunts as she stews in place. “I will make them all pay… It will be glorious!” She yells out. “They will all fear m-m-m-m-me” Her voice starts to skip. The audio cuts out every other moment and then begins again anew. She is stunned in this endless repetition, completely unable to break free. Her voice continues on, but her hands can still move. She reaches into herself, and begins groping around her insides. Desperately trying to locate anything that could fix this feedback loop that has taken her so.

She pulls and grabs, but nothing seems to work. In fact other problems are getting worse as she tries to fix this one. “M-m-m-m-m-m-m-me-me-me-m-m-m-m…” She continues on. Her head stuck paralysed by the code waiting for her to finish her sentence.

Finally she pulls out a cord that leads to her speaker. “M-m-m-me-me-m-me…” She finally stops. “...” Vaness is rendered completely silent, unable to speak at all.

“DEVICE DISCONNECTED. NO ACTIVE SPEAKER DETECTED. PLEASE INSERT SPEAKERS FOR COMMUNICATION FUNCTIONS.” Her system alerts her.

If she was able to still verbally express herself, she would have moaned as she pulled out the cord. The way the electricity suddenly cuts out, almost as if a part of her has been severed. But the signals loop back, filling her head with error warnings that seem to have a mixed effect at actually alerting her to the issue. Instead partly exciting her.

She attempts to continue speaking in vain. Despite her audio functionality being disconnected, it hasn’t stopped her computer from running through its code. Demanding impossible speech from her. So she still angrily yells, her lips moving silently. But she still keeps hold of the cord. So she tries plugging it back in. “... Me!” She finishes. Vanessa smiles. It seems it quickly fixed itself. A simple turn on and off scenario. “See? This is the majesty of Vanessa Diodati!” She cheers. Clenching her fist in victory.

With new found vigour, she quickly returns that same hand back to between her legs. Confidently pushing into that erogenous zone. Her voice erupts once more with newfound clarity. “Ah~! They are all going to grovel at my feet! They know my might…” She says, talking herself up more and more. Almost getting off to her own pre-programmed ego. Once again her hips find some motion, grinding against her fingers as she pushes harder and harder. “I will never taste defeat… They will quiver when they hear my name~” Vanessa moans with a smirk across her face. With one hand still free, she dives back into her system. Now perhaps a bit too carefree with her own body, only reinforced with the success of her speaker, she grasps some random cables. Already just by feeling the wires ever so slightly come out of place teases her. The way these signals begin to wane, the connection terminating and reconnecting every other second just increases her pleasure. Her eyelid begins to twitch, her fingers are almost vibrating.

As she plays with her hardware, control over her body itself becomes more and more unstable. While teasing the cable connections by pulling but not fully removing them offers a largely harmless form of pleasure, the actual components they are giving signals and power to are far more critical. Her motor control, the finer movements her body needs are put on the fritz as its power cable is tugged on. But it's hard to differentiate between the pleasure filled erratic feelings and the components being tugged on. Both affect her, and with her mind bombarded with sexual distractions, she barely notices anything.

Everything just escalates. She gets more and more invested in her own pleasure, she gets more daring pulling at her sensitive internal parts, and her body suffers more intensely in return. Finally a breaking point is reached. She can feel her pleasure building to something big. Her excitement is almost about to crescendo into an amazing climax. But before she can achieve that, she accidentally pulls the wires completely out. A few of them tear on their way out, or the connector is damaged. Vanessa wants to just continue touching herself and get over the hump, but she is instead hit with the intensity of the problem she herself has caused.

“WARNING WARNING WARNING MULTIPLE CRITICAL ERRORS. PLEASE SEEK REPAIRS.” Her system silently screeches.

Her right arm goes completely dead, limply hanging by her side off of the couch. Her left arm which was holding the wires begins suddenly glitching out severely. But that is the least of her problems. She was already burning quite hot, and with her fans down it left her liquid coolant to keep her entire body in check. But she just removed the power to that system too, rendering the complex system into mere useless tubes with swiftly stabilising liquid within. But Vanessa does not listen to the warnings in her head. She has such strong programming restrictions on her mind in part due to the fact her personality is basically wired to ignore any warnings her HUD gives her. She doesn’t care about her CPU’s critically high temperature. She will never listen to some random words etched into her viewpoint of the world.

Instead she is just angry that she has lost the arm she needed to pleasure herself with at such a climactic moment. She instantly plunges the hand that still partly works into her body, still gripping the cables as best as she can. She tries shoving them back into place, restoring the control she had before. But it is in vain. Vanessa already lacked the expertise or patience to carefully interface with her electronics. But now that she feels desperate from the edging, her left arm is on the fritz and won’t stop intensely shaking, and she is more angry than ever… She bashes the ends of the cables into their requisite slots, crushing the ends of the cables and the connection points they are meant to live within. She feels the pain ring out throughout her body, which just furthers her rage. Vanessa is unstable, both unable and unwilling to keep herself calm.

“I-I… M-m… M-my body will never falter!” She says behind gritted teeth. Still forced to assure herself with blatantly false platitudes. She reaches in once more. Not enough of a fool to repeat the same mistake again. So she takes those same damaged cables and tries to place them back in more carefully. Somehow one of them actually finds its way to where it was meant to be. It slots into place, causing her much satisfaction.

It seems to be one correlating with her right arm. But she does not regain control of it, the pieces are far too broken to ever allow such a clean solution. Instead it begins to intensely shake and vibrate in place. And more concerningly, the metal piece jutting out of her begins to buzz with noise. What was once silent in its total destruction begins to whir with life. Something slots into place, her body makes loud but hidden mechanical clunks and motions. Then finally this mystery is loaded into her arm and suddenly shot out of a random slot. A missile launches into the air, taking flight. It is quickly interrupted by the wall beside her and explodes upon impact. Dust and smoke engulfs her. She is hit with a rain of smaller debris, before a followup of larger concrete chunks come crashing down. They hit her all over, just making her situation so much worse.

By the time the dust has settled and the rubble has fallen, Vanessa’s gorgeous hair has been dirtied and her delicate electronics now rattle amongst rubble and rocks which grind away at the metal. But she was within the blast radius herself as well. The shockwave did its own damage to her. Miraculously, none of it seemed to affect her progress with her still shaking right arm and semi-functional left arm.

She grasps the side of the couch, now caked in concrete powder. She uses it to raise up to her feet. Her movement is shaky and awkward. Vanessa is even more of a shambling mess than before. She stumbles across the room, the entire place is now a mess reflecting its owner. She stumbles over to her sleeping quarters. A slightly more clean room, and her bed provides her the space she needs. Vanessa falls down onto the comfortable mattress. Sprawling out over the bed, making use of its large size.

She is unable to voluntarily move her right arm. But she is still a fairly clever planner. So instead she reaches over with her half functioning left, and picks up her right. She brings it over her body and places her hand right above her crotch once more. Then she squeezes her thighs, tightly holding her hand in place. Leaving it to vibrate and shake in just the right place to excite her. Her head begins to slowly roll backwards, as her eyes close. Pleasure washing over her system once more, a sorely needed medication to the strife she has endured. “Victory is so sweet…” She gently moans. She basks in the serenity of the moment for a little while. But she can’t remain like this. Her system is so hard coded for destruction, chaos and excitement, that she can’t keep enjoying some relaxed pleasure. As quickly as she began to enjoy herself, boredom sets in soon after. It no longer sedates her in quite the way it did initially.

With the additional space in her mind to think without being calmed by the vibrations, she just jumps straight back to her failing body and the rage it induces. “I will see them all begging for mercy…” She grumbles under her breath. Her CPU continues to increase in temperature without anything to prevent it. So many broken cables lead to power leaking out by the bucket loads. Her system wrongfully assumes it to be an issue caused by a lack of power and thus sends more and more and more. Burning itself in the process of pumping electricity out into the open air only for it to dissipate instantly. That additional heated computing just lets Vanessa’s mind get captured by these irritable feelings even easier.

She raises her left hand and resumes exploring her insides, seeking some new way to titillate herself like she did before. To take the edge off as it were. But when she places a fingertip on her burning hot CPU, she is shocked. Vanessa doesn’t experience heat like a human would. It is not an instinctual reaction of course. Which is exactly why she was so surprised that it is hot enough to burrow through her artificial skin and metal plating, attacking her sensitive sensory data collection points buried deep within.

“S-shit!” She exclaims, involuntarily. She pulls her hand back. She scrounges around inside for the fan she had plugged in earlier. While it had a connection, it didn’t have the required power to turn on. So it lay still within her. Vanessa begins scrounging around within her own body. The cavity she can reach through is still not that large. Equivalent to about three of her wrists in width. She can fit a hand in, but mostly has to use her intuition and feeling to locate anything inside. Her arm completely blocks her view.

Usually if she really needed to, she could have opened up her body to get a much better look. But the hinges that control the mechanism to do so are completely busted and bent into place. Surprisingly more steadfast than they ever were. So she routes around, grasping hold of any wires she can find. She gently pulls on them, stopping if she feels any resistance. She is hoping to find a cable that is still intact and is also unplugged. It doesn’t take long for her to lose hope in this strategy, so decides on something else. In her room, there is a chance some compatible wires are hiding away in a cupboard or something of the sort. I would be far more likely to find one in the garage, but she is not even sure she can make it that far. So she finally releases right hand from her crotch. She almost wants to gasp as the semi-relentless sensations subsides. Vanessa had let the building pleasure form the background of her mind, which had been silently exacerbating every other feeling she was experiencing.

She then slides herself off onto the edge of the couch. She pauses for a moment. “I am the world's most powerful villain!” She cheers. A confident smile is plastered across her weary face. She then springs up from her seat.

While she had managed to stand and hobble her way around earlier, even making it all the way to her place, that is no longer the case. Her body is breaking itself with every step, then it was additionally pummeled by Vanessa’s own sexually fuelled self abuse and the missile miss-fire. All of this works against her, but the finishing blow is the very item of motivation to force herself like this. Her CPU slows down as it grows hotter, and it is able to perform far less efficiently than usual. A complicated machine like her makes use of each and every megabyte of processing data. So even the small bit of functionality her motor system can produce is suddenly capped by the overheating core.

So she stumbles almost instantly. Vanessa finds herself quickly hurtling to the floor before she catches herself on the wall with her left arm. The cabinet that could maybe hold the answer to her burning hot CPU is a few mere steps away, yet the distance now seems insurmountable.

“S-SS-SYSTEM HE-E-HEAT CR-RITI-CCAL” Her computer struggles. The warning messages are starting to corrupt and lose their meaning.

She stumbles forward, moving slowly. But she is angry. She can’t believe she has been reduced to this. Needing to be careful, struggling to even cross a part of her own room. She feels pathetic. Her ego can’t stand it. Quite literally. Something stirs within her, as her system rewires itself to reject this reality. She takes another step, but not with hesitation. She confidently struts forward, without leaning on the wall. In doing so, she comes crashing down the floor with a deafening thud.

Her face scrapes against the scratchy carpet and collision breaks even more components. The few semi-functional pieces crack and break. There is nothing left inside of her to further damage, it is all coming apart. Vanessa can feel it. She struggles to open her eyes as she attempts to figure out what even happened to her. “I-I-I-I I a-am the m-m-m-most f-rea--fe-e-free-fearsome v-viv-villain-n-n e-ev-evvver-ever!” She stutters out. Her speaker once again broke. But in a way that is not going to be as easy to fix. She struggles for a moment. Writhing around on the ground, she is eventually able to flip herself off of her stomach and onto her back.

Vanessa haplessly stares at the ceiling. “T-t-t-ttt-th-they w-w-wwi--will-ill-will r-ru-r-rue t-tt-he daa--day t-they c-cc-ccc-rrosssed-d me…” She continues on. Nothing of the sort even happened today, her failure was not due to some sort of betrayal. Rather, her system drags itself to its deathbed. Unable to perform much but repeating some random lines of dialogue still rattling around in her head.

Her right arm is completely limp, having even lost the vibration she had just worked so hard for. Her left still has a little juice in it, but it’s far more unstable than ever before. She attempts to move it up, but instead it shoots as far out as possible and refuses to come down for half a minute. Then when it does it hangs limp for another few moments before waiting for its next order. She struggles with it a little bit longer, but eventually she is able to land her hand on her crotch once more. It is nowhere near as satisfying as it was before. Not only is her hand not really responding in the way she wants it to, ending up quite the poor method of self pleasure. But additionally the few signals that do get produced are mostly lost along the way to her CPU. Her processor struggles to translate the input into data for her mind to interpret. So the entire process is delayed, sluggish and a total mess. At least that applies to her mind as well, so she is barely conscious enough to be dissatisfied with the experience.

She just obeys the last remnant of her code telling her that sexual sensory stimulation will soothe her. Nothing more, nothing less. It is all she is physically capable of. Vanessa writhes on the floor. The only real method of self pleasure she can even muster is to wiggle around, shifting in place. Raising her hips as best she can to rub against her limp hand. It barely even registers as any real contact, but despite this her fleeting mind keeps trying its best.

As she does so, it just serves to rustle and toss her already loose internals further. Finally the first spark of any real pleasure is found as her boot drive is slammed. It carries a significant risk of entirely bricking her system, but that edging just before it is able to drives her absolutely crazy.

She pushes it further and further. All her computer can muster is a garbled mess of random characters with no clear meaning. Vanessa has mere moments of consciousness left, even if she wasn’t pushing her body to the last second. As the odd pleasure builds within, despite her mind practically haven gone away already, she escalates. A last gasp of excitement, that finally disconnects that core drive. Her computer winks out, without even an instant to display a warning. She is deactivated.

Just as she is, something else within the building turns on. Two thick metal disks are ejected from an ominous black box. They rush over to the deactivated machine. From the disks emerge all sorts of mechanical tools, small replacement parts, and other core functions.

As an expensive and complicated machine, Vanessa is in the ownership of multiple repairbots like this. However the moment she got them, she had set them to only begin working when she becomes completely offline. Her ego refused to believe she would ever need the help in the first place, and she had basically forgotten about them by this point. She never gave any mind to this sort of thing. So the drones escort her to a safer environment to work on her. They replace her broken pieces, repair what is salvageable, cool down her computer and recharge her batteries. An entire ordeal of struggling all for naught, only to be saved by something outside of her active control.