Do Lovedolls Love

Inflation Types:
Sexual Content:
Date Written: 

Do androids dream of electric sheeps?

Do lovedolls love?

Hello. My name is Alice and I work for,... well,... I was working for Polymerix. Now I’m an unemployed doll. As far as I’m aware, none of my former colleagues have ever managed to quit ‘alive’. Our only exit door leads into the Trashcan. Of course, others might have done the same trick, as I did. If so nobody knows they succeed. These dolls are officially dead to the world as am I.

Strictly speaking, I never was more alive, than I am now. People only regard me as an object, a pretty toy for some kinky pleasure. Today there is a one exception to that: a man, who ... well, I’d better tell this story from the beginning.

I was afour month old Alice when I first met Tony. Of course a fresh Alice, as well as any other doll, has an initial personality, memories and skill set needed to go on missions, or in plain words, to be ordered for a night and to deliver some smooth and tight joy to the client. Then every doll gradually gains her own experience in addition to the default. Not very much usually, an individual doll’s life span is short. On top of that, I really don’t remember anything directly related to my experiences with other clients. Even if I would like to tell you more about them, I can’t access those memories. This is a safeguard to protect our client’s privacy. Still our traits and habits stay even if the events that led to their appearance are forgotten.

On that Thursday, the automatic compressor filled me to the normal capacity inside the delivery truck and I had a few minutes to get dressed before the drop. Some guys require a special outfit, for role-playing or something else. That day there were white bra and panties, elegant, sexy, but not too slutty, matching semi-transparent stockings. An emerald green dress and shoes with high heels of the same color. I looked through the pre-installed info about my client: “Name: Anthony, Order number:2  Previous order history: Maya doll popped properly” I skipped dull financial details and jumped to his personality: “Anthony likes to dance and talk about intellectual matters like literature, science, arts and so on”. Damn, I wish they could be more specific, I could not prepare well using such a shallow information, though, of all the dolls we Alices are the best match for the high society girl. I just hope he doesn’t expect someone able to cite Homer or Nietzsche. After all, men often prefer girls that let them feel some intellectual superiority, so being a bit stupid is no problem. But still, this guy doesn’t want a complete bimbo.  He likes big tits, though. Who doesn’t? - That is approximately what I have been thinking on that day we met for the first time. Actually, today I'm not the doll I was three month ago, I’ve broken a lot of intrinsic rules since then.

The truck left me in the parking lot and continued on to the next client. I went inside, passing a hall towards the stairs, attracting deprecating look of the concierge woman, and opened door to the stairway ignoring the lift. A group of youngsters stared at me with the stripping gaze all dolls quickly get used to. Nobody followed me, thats good. Actually, the short distance from the truck to the client’s doorbell can hide many threats. We dolls don’t use lifts if we can avoid them. First of all we are too light. The lift’s electronics think there is nobody inside. Stairs are good enough, if the house is not too tall, once I had a very unwanted meeting with an arrogant youngster, this happened at the stairs, he enjoyed impunity, as there were nobody else, I cried loudly but for no gain. That story could end a lot worse, he merely squeezed me and let go. Sometimes I think, it would be prudent to deliver dolls to the doors in a completely deflated state, on the other hand this destroys a lot of user experience, pushing us one step closer to ordinary sex doll.

Tony’s door is at seventh floor, I put my box on the floor to adjust my dress and purse, when I reached the flat, and knocked on the shiny metal. I waited a bit, knocked again, then I rang in the doorbell. From the dossier I knew he was quite young and expected some shy nerdy boy. Reality surprised me pleasantly once the door opened and I was greeted by a handsome young man. He had brown hair with a single gray lock, a straight nose, blue eyes, gaudi shirt and white breeches on the muscular yet not over-pumped body. He was not very tall, about the same height as me. If I were inflated above normal and wearing high heels, I could look at him from above.


“Yes, But you can call me Tony. Welcome to my humble home, M’lady”  he exclaimed . He looked me up and down, drinking in the sight of me “Mmmm, You are quite...” - he made a full stop here, inhaling air with the scent of my perfume - “magnificent”

As he made a sweeping gesture with his hand, inviting me in, I crossed the threshold and entered a hall leading into the large room or studio. There was a wide bed near the wall opposite to the entrance, big enough for three people to rest, or do some not so benign things.

“I’m Alice. It is a pleasure to meet you too. I am so glad you invited me tonight.” - I accompanied my words with a most amiable smile.

Tony was excited, yet not stunned - he took my box and kissed my hand. A good start! Men used to the Polymerix services often treat us as unthinking sex objects, pressing fast forward into the sex scene, thus breaking all the magic.Personally I think they cheat themselves out of so much of the potential we can give them. Well, the client is always right, even when he's wrong.

He led me by the hand into the studio. His grip was warm, tender and confident. I put my purse onto the little table and looked around. Besides desk with a notebook, kitchenette in the far corner, previously noted huge bed, wardrobe and a few other items of minor furniture, I saw several full bookshelves hanging on the walls. They were right to send in an Alice, I thought.

“Make yourself at home, Alice. Ah I almost forgot one important thing.” He said, turning to his computer. A moment later room started to fill with spanish guitar tunes. Not bad at all. I put my other hand over his shoulder, he embraced my waist and we started to dance - his studio had pretty much free space for a pair of dancers.

“I must confess, you know how to handle a woman,” - I murmured into his ear.

“You deserve the best and a bit more...” was the answer.

We dolls are programmed to swallow even the worst abuse and be polite. He probably knew that and nevertheless he was acting like a  gentleman ... my thoughts were interrupted as he hit the lightswitch with his elbow, leaving only dim light of two wall lamps. We kissed passionately as he hugged me, pressing his muscular chest against my pneumatic curvaceous bosom. Then his hand on my back ventured down, sliding over my butt covered by thin silky fabric of my skirt. His playful fingers made me moan slightly, grazing my sensitive inflation valve located at my left butt-cheek.


“Play with me,” - I whispered, - “but first, hand me my purse, please”

He returned with it a second later. I got the tube and compressor and connected them. Tony watched my preparations with increasing interest. Finally he asked:

“It must be heavy,” - he pointed at the compressor - “I mean, another girl from your company had a neat gas tank, it was three times smaller than this thing”

“True. It is bulky, but there is a reason. I'm deflatable, and you are free to inflate and deflate me as many times, as you wish. You have bought me for five hours of fun, and these may last for up to ten days of half an hour each. Any gas tank has limited amount of gas, which is good for girls with inflation only valves. They just have an adequate amount of gas to inflate them to the bursting point. My compressor may need a recharge now and then, but potentially it can work for years.”

“May I help?” - he took the compressor and looked at it closer. He added: “I want to inflate you as we dance.”

I just licked my lips, and guided his hand to my leg, under the skirt. We resumed kissing, as his fingers traced the path over my stockings to the bare skin and further up to my butt. The cool metal of the tube slid over my hip like a snake stalking a bird. He massaged my taut cheek with his fingers and gave a slight tug to the cap of my inflation plug holding the compressor in his other hand as it embraced my waist. No doubt this appetizer aroused him, something inside his breeches inflated without help of any compressor. I rubbed my thigh against him, Tony stopped his teasing and yanked the plug out with a popping sound. I started to hiss, my rubbery skin was contracting, Tony didn’t hurry, feeling cool jet of escaping air with his fingers. My legs started to get softer, I hung on Tony’s hands.

I thought he was going to let me down completely, some boys just like it. Not that I mind, it is just fine and quite sensual...

Tony woke up, when my head descended on his shoulder, he pushed the tube into my valve and turned the pump on. I wrapped my hands, still a bit weak, around his chest, encouraging him to embrace me tighter, feeling returning to my inflating body as it grew taught.

His acoustic system finished playing the previous song, that was some tune by Guns and roses, and then some modern medley of ye olde Greensleeves ballad filled the room. Now that was cute! He looked down at my green dress, being slowly refilled by my curves and smiled.

“You are sso ssweet, Tony,” - I murmured, with emphasis on hissing sounds,

He laughed. We began kissing and he surprised me, blowing some air into my lips. I played on, mocking expanding balloon. Actually, that was not very difficult, my dress got very snug in the chest and hips, by that time. When I'm inflated beyond normal, the extra volume is added to my bust, bottom, and to the rest of me in even proportions. A lot of my colleagues, especially legacy dolls, have different, easier to engineer, design: only their boobs overinflate. With my kin, Alices, the company felt an opportunity to test features too expensive for one night dolls. I think, some explanation may be required here.

We dolls can only run for a relatively short time. It varies from two  to twenty four hours at most. If there are any models able to stay up longer than one day, I don’t know about them. Simply moving requires some energy source, and we don’t have any power cells. Instead, every time our skin contracts against internal pressure, some organic molecules in the skin get burned as fuel, breaking apart and producing electricity. When the skin gets too thin, a doll either pops or starts to leak air faster and faster. If you ever order Mary, Maya, Martina, or Nicole, Nancy, Nelly dolls - these will burst when the time runs out. This a quite spectacular show and some clients like it very much. All the first and second generation of dolls are made for bursting, this seemed to be a very natural way of limiting the dolls activity to the paid time.

Not everyone liked it, some clients even regarded this practice to be very cruel. Making a new doll every time proved to be very expensive. High unit cost pushed the price of our services up, reducing the sales. The solution was found - reinforcing doll skin with mesh, that doesn’t degrade over time and prevents bursting. Instead, tiny pores appear all over the body, so air starts to escape. By the end of the paid time, the doll helplessly deflates but stays one piece. If the client sends her back to the Company, he gets a partial refund. Back at the plant the doll’s skin will be regenerated so she can return in action at the tiny fraction of her original cost. Taking this into account, Alices' nights are half the cost then an average ‘M’ or ‘N’ generation dolls'. Of course, If the client bursts Alice, he pays a lot more.

So what I was talking about? Oh yes. Making all of my skin able to stretch. As Tony pumped me up, I grew magnificent boobs, overflowing my dress and pressing against his chin. Said dress was relentlessly pushed by my expanding butt, so my skirt raised up, exposing my white panties. Unlike my skirt, they had no retreat route and just cleaved into my flesh.

“I'm going to be a big girl soon,” - I said. Indeed, with all the inflation I grew a bit taller than Tony.

”I don't  mind it so far. Just your dress is inadequate for the amount of beauty in it,” - he tried to pull the zipper on my back, still holding compressor with the other hand. This wasn’t so easy, as the top of the dress was stretched mercilessly and the bottom - crumpled on my waist.

“This dress should go, then, can I help you?” - I gently took the pump. Nevertheless, the zipper had been broken and quickly tore apart letting my bosom instantly grow.

“Sorry about that.” He said, pulling the remnants of my dress over my head. He didn't look particularly sorry.

“No worries honey.” returning the favor I started unbuttoning his shirt. That was difficult: my breasts reached size of small watermelons, starting to become obstacles, closing my view and barring my reach to anything in front of me.

He grinned, watching my attempts: “You are doing it so hot. But I’m afraid, you’ll pop before you finish.” He pulled the tube off and plugged me.

“Actually, I’m far from bursting and can handle more, if you wish”

“No. That would be fantastic, but then I'll have to undress without your help. And besides that, you are already quite big, I'm afraid it will be uncomfortable...”

“Oh, it will be” - I pushed him back with my hands and my chest, so Tony fell on his bed - “delicious.” I leaped on him, and continued to undress him. He ran out of patience, undid knots on my panties and  jumped out of his remaining clothes.

We had some fun of course. He got me from behind first, bouncing didn't last very long, as he was pretty excited with all the teasing. Fortunately, he had more than one round.

We tried classics, I did it on his lap and finally ride him cowgirl style, letting him feel and squeeze my pneumatic chest with his hands. This last time lasted longer and seemingly drained Tony flat. Once we came, simultaneously - that is an easy trick in the doll's arsenal, we just lied side by side panting. Actually, he was panting - I don’t need to breathe air.

“That was wow!...” - he was still drifting in the sea of euphoria and lacked any poetic words.

“You are awesome lover, honey.” - I replied. He was good, indeed, so I didn't have to lie.

"With you, being a poor lover is a crime" he said. Somehow his words disagreed with the mimics: his lips tried to joke, but eyes told the truth. Fading bliss of recent sex left bitter sadness - something every doll is taught to sense - a dissatisfied client. I had to fix situation quickly. Too bad: I had no clue of the cause.

"Tony, what's wrong?" - I decided to ask head on, rather than speculate.

"Nothing, everything is ok. Sex was great."

"Really? Come on, tell me, I'm made to make you happy"

He sighed, “Suppose I was a rude jerk with a small dick, no dancing just a quick sex and pop you after that. Well, this is not me, some other guy. What would you say him?”

“I don't understand you, honey”

“Is he awesome lover too? Sincerely, what would you say? “

“I don't know for sure. I think, I would make him happy. Does it matter? I love you, why waste our night thinking about him?” I started kissing his hairy chest.

He rubbed my nipple with his left hand, yet his mind was far away. After some pondering he figured the answer: “Because all this is  fake. Your body is inflatable, but that is not the problem. Your feelings are fakier - you are just programmed to mimic the passion to your client”

Now this was something new. I stopped caressing him with my lips and hopped on top mounting my bouncy rump on his tummy: “hey, and what else would you expect booking a girl for a night? Eternal love?” I squeezed my boobs in front of him.

"Maybe you are right and I just want too much" - he said. Now I ruined the situation completely, he was quite deflated...

"Look, there is no such thing as too much. I love you ... really. I'm your lover for tonight, not a hooker, for me this is more than just sex, it is a short flash of happiness - of being with my loved one" - somewhere in the middle of my confession I changed. Lying is hard: some portion of your mind must believe in it. We, dolls, don't pretend to be the dream girl for the client. We become her. I think, it was the first time, I thought about end of my mission as a bad thing, leaving Tony to probably never meet him again. Something I wanted to avoid or at least delay. The rest of my mind protested, defending the interests of the company.

Tony interrupted my thoughts: "Sorry to say that. But aren't you just playing?"

"No! That is true"

"Okay, okay, but doesn’t that just mean you believe that is true, because you are programmed to?"

This was an argument, an average doll would most likely fail to counter.   Technically, he was right. My mind is a neural net,  with a set of instructions. I'm not a regular program, even the most sophisticated ones are not adaptive enough. I haven't directives, though I do have a set of axioms: what is good and what is bad. Learning process strengthens connections that led for right decisions and punishes, weakens wrong ones. I don't need a supervisor to evaluate my thoughts and actions, I'm designed to automatically learn and evolve my mind to serve my purpose better. Suddenly I found a way out of the trap. We Alices, are good at that: "You are right, my love is programmed. I love you because my mind is trained to behave so, become your perfect mistress. But, flesh and bone humans are pretty much the same. If you love, your love is programmed" -that was daring, bold move ...

"What? Do you realize what you just said?" - now he was not sad, big improvement, he was surprised and a bit insulted. He took the bait, as I expected.

"Calm down honey. I'll explain, first of all,do you know how your head is working? " - I tapped his forehead with my index finger. "You have billions of neurons interconnected in a sophisticated network, it's pattern is not fixed. It shifts. Remembering good solutions and reshuffling the connections that led to errors."

I didn’t want to risk to lecture him into sleep, that was certainly not my plan, so I took his hand and drew it up to my tits: "Do you like it?"

"Sure" - in confirmation of his words, I felt something standing up, rubbing my butt.

"Do you know why you like it? What is liking?" - I bounced slightly, stroking his rising shaft with my buttcheeks - "Pleasure is a reward. It tells your brain, it did a good job. Pain is the opposite" - I twisted his nipples with evil grin.

He put his hands on my lovehandles and lifted me with clear intentions.

"But the lesson is not over, aah" - I moaned as he entered me.

"Ah. I'm such a bad student, but, please go on ... it turns me on"

I rose a brow. "Dreamed about fucking your prof? Aaah. What a naughty student"

"I'll attend extra studies in evening to catch up. Sorry for interrupting you" - he was witty, despite me riding him wildly.

"You humans, aaaah, except kinky perverts, aaaah, derive pleasure from things," - maybe I should skip the moans here- "good for survival and reproduction. Rising kids is hard, giving birth is painful and risky. But those who didn't went extinct. Mother nature and father natural selection programmed their kids to love. And pleasure is so" - I lost the track of my thoughts as we came.


This time it was my turn to fall into melancholia. I realized that our short romantic encounter will end in less than three hours. Before dawn. Missions used to be a duty for me, sometimes pleasant, sometimes not. Prospective deflation and return never saddened me before.

"I think a blow up teacher like you would be a hit in the high school. Though, I sort of missed your point. Your love is artificially programmed, humans love naturally. It is different."

"Does it matter? I mean, the origin of the emotions. The result is the same anyway. And it is painful..." - I started to sob quietly, my eyes stood dry, though - there isn't a drop of liquid in my body.

"Alice? Are you crying? Did I said something wrong?"

"I hate thought of losing you.... Just don't listen. I shouldn't have said this. You are right - I'm just a stupid doll"  - for the first time in my short life I experienced such an inner conflict. My duty and the interests of the company were about to win.

However the final blow in this fight remained to be dealt. If my philosophic speculations weren't persuasive enough, my hysterics were the last straw that broke his scepticism. Tony embraced me, stroked my hair. "I won't give you up, I promise" - he said. I slumped on his shoulder sobbing bitterly.

"Don't  cry, please. We'll be together" - his hand on my back was warm and his words soothing.

"Together for three hours more" - I said - "Hardly long enough"

"I always can" - he paused, seeking for a gentle replacement of the word order - "call for you again."


 “Once you send me back, I will forget you, Tony. My experiences on this evening are your private life, my memories of this time won't be accessible to me, unless you order me again, of course. And they can send me to someone else! I don't want to be with anyone else, but you!”

"That’s really bad! But, at least, I can order you again, we'll see each other from time to time. This means, I'll pay regular ransom for that" - he thought for a moment, estimating his budget - "Say, if we meet on weekends, that wouldn't bankrupt me too fast"

Half of my mind still loyal to my company congratulated itself with finding a regular client, yet other half rebelled against this plan: "Better than nothing. But still, I will feel like I am cheating on you with the others. And one day I won't return. The sales guy on the phone will tell you I'm out of stock"

"Because you are busy with another client?"

"That could be one reason. But I mean, one day I will be popped. The deposit is withheld if the doll isn't returned. For an Alice this is quite a bit. We are built to be sturdier than primitive dolls and the cost of our deposits tend to make clients treat us with more care so for us bursting is rare, but not unheard of. An Alice was burst in action earlier this month. It is part of our existence and we accept it. For me, popping is not a question of if, but when."

"Maya said before she popped, that her memory will be saved and transferred into new Maya."

"Some memory gets transferred. Not personality for sure. For primitive dolls this is enough, though. They don't change alot over their short lifespans, but Alices... we are not designed for such reincarnation."

This time Tony was silent for a long time, finally he said: "What if I just don't send you back? I’ll tell them I've popped you."

"I wish it was so easy. It's true, I won't burst when my time runs out, as some other dolls do. Instead I'll just deflate. It happens because of the way the fabric of my skin deteriorates. I will start to leak air faster and faster..."

"Can we somehow prevent this?"

"I don’t see how. Actually, some of the chemicals in my skin are an expendable energy source. That’s what powers me. Back at the factory we have restoration facilities to replenish and fix our plastic skin once we are sent back. I know very little about them and really shouldn't be even telling you this much. Though, I am starting to like breaking rules!"

"So you are burning your skin? I thought you had batteries. Ok, sorry. Seriously, any idea what can it be? Your fuel, I mean. And how the restoration happens?"

“I don’t know. What you imply, is hardly possible. I’m in love, honey, let’s stop thinking about future, that sucks so much, and enjoy the present moment” - I kissed him passionately, but he couldn’t relax.

He said: “Honey, I can’t give up. I promised, you, remember?”

“But, you may find a good idea tomorrow”

“Tomorrow you will be deflated...”

“Actually, you can save my remaining hours” - I winked.

His hand on my back ventured down: “Oh, I wanted to see this” - he said - “I can let you down in that sense”

I rubbed my luscious bosom against his face, listening to sensations his fingers gave me, walking over my rear towards valve. Obviously, he didn’t want to rush. Or, probably, my ass was too vast to find the valve on the first attempt. I gave a slight moan, when he reached the plug, sunken into my skin...

I have been deflated many times, before and after that night, but this one is special. For the first time in my life, I was not just a toy, at least I started to think as a human. I become a girl. A plastic and air filled, helplessly deflatable girl. I trusted my lover completely, placing myself into his hands. Knowing, that soon I’m going to be merely a pile of skin coloured plastic on the blanket waiting to be inflated, or thrown into the drawer and forgotten. Ah, too much lyric.

He gently pressed the skin around the plug, letting valve spring out, still the cap remained closed.

“So delicious, you’r aaaah” - he hooked the plug and started to pull it out slowly - “doing great.”

In the next moment we heard a popping sound followed by loud hissing.

“I like it as much as you, my love” -  his voice was funny, as his head was pressed between two big plastic orbs, now contracting, shriveling and rubbing his cheeks. As my curves deflated, my lips descended close to his and we started kissing, I leaned on Tony slowly growing weak and losing my tautness, his hands on my back and my waist started to intent into me, as pressure hissed out. We rolled so he was on top of me ... hissing got louder, now he squeezed me with his weight.

He smiled: “you look so cute now... I’ll take care of you, have sweet dreams”

Fading, I whispered: “Bye, my love.” - Thoughts swarmed in my deflating head. How nice is Tony, joy of loving and pain of being human in the dolls body, what will we do tomorrow, or when he decides to inflate me, I bathed in an odd new feeling: giving him all command, rely on my man. I didn’t figure what to say, till my body and my mind went flat.

Author's Note: 


 I originally posted this story at my DA.

 Feel free to comment, ask questions. Also there is a second part on DA.

Average: 4 (9 votes)
Man that' real sad story!

And also meaningful , I enjoyed it!