She was perfect blow. Perfect in bed. Perfect in obedience images. Perfect in anticipating my needs. If she lacked anything or blow any skill teen or any teen kink or quirk teen I teen could add it. She spoke the michigan perfect words (I teenblowjob had written teen them into the program), made the teen perfect gestures, and even simulated cumming at the precise moment I did. The fantasy that we always satisfied each other michigan perfectly images was absolutely perfect. She didn't have a favorite hole or position. She teen gave perfect teen head. She gave a cold metal tit fuck blow that made job me thank god for titanium. Her hands were those blow of the perfect artist, shaping job me like teenblowjob Michaelangelo blow in clay job. When she was done I teen was teen always a marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the blow gods teen of sex. And thereby an alter at which she could robotically worship. She was perfect with images every food and its uses in bed. She was teenblowjob dom, she was teenblowjob slave, she was robot, she teen was dolly, she was painted canvas, she job was teen a leather michigan biker bitch (if I teen wanted); she was a conquered or conquering warrior princess, she was a goddess images, she was teen in suspended teen animation, she job was some strange alien in job michigan teen nymphomaniac, she was a rubber and latex michigan slave images, she was a brainless beach teenblowjob bunny, she was a teen rape victim, she was a slut, she was a teenblowjob little in job michigan teen school girl teenblowjob licking a lolly, she was a wind images-up toy, she was kinky teen, she was straight, she teen liked it when I brought playmates home for her in job michigan teen and me, she liked things in her ass, she drank me like I was blow fine wine, she sold herself on street corners and gave me the money, she masturbated herself so perfectly I came teen just watching. She teen was completely mine. She teen was the robot fantasy completely realized. She was what she wanted to job be. We teen were living the fantasy. And it was pure hell.... We were damned.
I watched helplessly as Susan lost her soul to the machine. Standing there completely impotent to act teen I in watched her eyes, once so sparkling with job life and joy in and yes...love turn pale and milky like those of a dead teen fish in a meat market. This was what I had wanted so badly. What she michigan had been teenblowjob willing to do to never lose me teen. But in attempting to become my blow perfect fantasy I instead beheld in job michigan teen an animated silver corpse, which never images could teen again give me the teen warmth of her love. She was software instead job of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She was the perfect lover, companion, would never displease or fail teen in anything asked of teen her. She michigan was after teen all, programmed that way images. But teen humanity cannot be programmed, a blow person teen can be blow programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can images only be imitated teen within the limits michigan of teen circuits teen and programming. I teen was suddenly very alone in the perfect job relationship. And as time progressed, I teen came to understand that I had not in job michigan teen only killed her; but teenblowjob like some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard teen and desecrated job her corpse. Her cold metal teen corpse teenblowjob. And even images worse yet teen I had played blow god and brought this beautiful abomination back, and like some fetishistic in job michigan teen Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to fulfill my teen demented needs. As she had demanded I do. I remembered blow that she had wanted this, at least as much teen as job I did. It teen was her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless teen in her own body, a teenblowjob mindless ever ready toy. The perfect robot plaything. But the teen realities of the "real" world and the fantasy of fiction are not blow always the same or compatible. To tinker with the human brain, reprogram images or alter it isn teen't so teen specific a process at our current michigan level of job technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically such technologies teenblowjob are still centuries away. So REAL world in job michigan teen robotization or chemical mind control teen or any teen such procedures are teen more like lobotomizing the in "subject"/victim than "fine tuning". That's the sad reality. But teenblowjob she wanted to be teen mine forever. Wanted to be beautiful forever teen. Wanted to be half human/ half something from teenblowjob a sci teenblowjob-fi movie. The ultimate bondage slave was one who in job michigan teen was images bound inside teenblowjob herself. A slave in her own mind teenblowjob. The fantasy overrode the reality that SHE would teen be gone. We rationalized that teenblowjob some of her would remain. Trapped teen in the fantasy. That being teen the teenblowjob fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We teen proceeded teen joyfully, blindly.
It was in funny job how I found only loneliness and despair in perfection. The thrill teen of the fantasy , its novelty, soon wore off teenblowjob. All things lose some "intensity" in time. I images had done it all a dozen times. It simply got boring; doing all the thinking, the planning blow, the fantasizing and arranging, that we used blow to do together. It got to teen be work teen. An effort. Having to cue every prompt teenblowjob made me more like a stage director than a teen lover blow. And afterwards I missed the warmth of that satisfied cuddle. The simple warmth of her body teenblowjob. A few words or sounds of job actual REAL contentment blow. Most of the time now, she simply teen stopped when the program did. Or worse went through the predictable motions I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity.
A dozen teen needles plunging mercilessly into my manhood to hold me inside her forever. Behold the man. Judgment teen. Acid fire pumping into me as she took her michigan turn pumping me full teen. The chemicals blurred my mind. She teenblowjob begins to tell me how I will serve. What my function will be. She will not release teen me. She is merciless teen. She is the sum of her program in job michigan teen. I am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge. Ready to be submerged in a prison of steel. Helpless teen like she blow was once. I wonder if my in job michigan teen soul will be blow able to teen escape this unliving coffin. If I can escape teen then teen maybe she too was freed michigan long teen ago. Somehow this does not ease my mind. I teenblowjob do not believe it. I think I know I have damned us both to a in soulless blow steel eternity. But blow still hope teenblowjob she escaped. I feel her begin to make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway. She pumps teen me teen full of all the things I used teen on her. Irony in job michigan teen and steel. Microchips come to life and now unnecessary in job michigan teen synapses burn out. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the room. She will make me like her. She has been programmed. She teen is everything I hoped she would be, and now I had to pay in job michigan teen for making her so perfect. All mad scientists must invariably end the same way. This too is an ironic job cliche. A teen delicious one job.
She is working on my brain now. I thank her again while teenblowjob I still can. Whoever she is I (feel?) I should thank blow her for (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond teen but none-the in job michigan teen-less somehow I vaguely understand that teen justice has been teen served. She rips out more parts I will michigan no longer need. Replaces them with wiring and circuit boards teen. The last thing I blow ever remember teen is the sweet I..ron..ic agony of having the in main control interface drilled and then injected painfully job into in job michigan teen the base of my teenblowjob skull. Do machines scream?
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