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