 She was perfect. Perfect in bed. Perfect lesbian in obedience. Perfect in anticipating my needs. If she lacked anything or any vip skill vip or any kink vipcrew or vip quirk I could lesbian add vip it. She spoke vip the perfect lesbian vip words (I had written them into the program vip), made vipcrew the perfect gestures, and even simulated cumming at the precise moment vip I did. The fantasy that lesbian vip we always satisfied each other perfectly was absolutely perfect. She didn't lesbian vip have a favorite lesbian hole or position. She gave vip perfect head. She gave crew a cold metal tit vip fuck vip that made me thank god for titanium. Her hands lesbian were those of the perfect artist vip, shaping me like Michaelangelo in clay. When she was done I was always a marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the vipcrew gods of sex. And thereby an vipcrew alter at which she could vip robotically worship. She lesbian vip was perfect with every jpeg food lesbian and its uses in bed. She was dom vipcrew, she was slave lesbian, she was robot, she vipcrew was dolly, she vip was painted vip canvas jpeg, she was a leather biker bitch (if I wanted); she was a conquered or conquering warrior princess vipcrew, she was a goddess, she was in suspended animation, she was some strange crew alien vip nymphomaniac, she lesbian vip was a rubber and latex slave, she was a brainless beach bunny, she was vipcrew a rape victim, she was a slut, she was a little school girl licking a vip lolly, she was vipcrew a jpeg wind-up toy, she was kinky vip, she was straight crew, she liked it when I brought playmates home for her vip and me, she liked things in her ass vipcrew, she drank me like I was fine wine, she sold herself on street corners vip and gave me the money, she masturbated herself so perfectly I vip came just watching. She was completely mine. She was the robot fantasy completely realized. She lesbian vip was lesbian vip what she vipcrew wanted to be jpeg. We were living the fantasy. And jpeg it was pure hell.... We were damned.
 I vipcrew watched helplessly vip as Susan lost her soul to the machine. Standing lesbian there vipcrew completely impotent to act lesbian I watched vipcrew her eyes, once so sparkling with life and joy and yes...love turn pale and vip milky crew like those of a dead vip fish in a meat market. This was what I had wanted so lesbian vip badly vipcrew. What she had been willing to do to never lose me. But vip in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse, which never could again give me the warmth of her vip love. She vip was software vip instead vip of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She was the vip perfect lover, companion, would lesbian vip never lesbian vip displease or fail in anything asked of her vipcrew. She jpeg was after all, programmed that way. But humanity cannot be programmed, a person can be lesbian vip programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can only be jpeg imitated within the limits of circuits and programming vip. I was vipcrew suddenly very alone lesbian in the perfect relationship. And as time vip progressed, I came to jpeg understand that I had not only killed her; but like some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard and crew desecrated her vip corpse. Her cold metal vipcrew corpse. And even worse yet I had vip played god and brought this vipcrew beautiful abomination back, and like some fetishistic Frankenstein vip reanimated her vip corpse to vip fulfill my demented needs. As vip she had demanded I do. I remembered vip that she had wanted this, at least as much vip as I did. It was her fantasy too. To be powerless lesbian vip, helpless in her vip own body, a mindless ever ready vip toy vip. The perfect robot plaything. But the vip realities of the vip "real" world and the fantasy of fiction are not always the same crew or vip compatible. To tinker with vipcrew the lesbian human brain, reprogram or alter it isn't so vip specific a process at our current level of technology as to be vip able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically such technologies are still centuries away. So REAL world crew robotization or chemical mind control or any such vip procedures are crew more like lobotomizing the "subject"/victim than "fine tuning". That's vipcrew the sad reality. But crew she wanted to be mine forever. Wanted to be beautiful forever. Wanted to vip be half human/ half vip something from a sci-fi movie. The ultimate bondage slave was one who was bound inside herself. A slave in her own mind. The fantasy overrode vip the reality that SHE would be gone. We rationalized that some of her would remain. Trapped in the jpeg fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded joyfully, blindly.
 Years passed. No one took her place. All that stuff about one true love, an irreplaceable soulmate vip is true vip. And lesbian I gutted mine like an old vipcrew building needing renovation. Yet she remained; a shiny perfect vip reminder, a monolith, a gravemarker vip. A tombstone with three words vip only: "I love vip you".
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