She was perfect. Perfect in black bed. Perfect in obedience. Perfect black in black anticipating my teen needs black. If she lacked anything blackteenslut or any slut skill or any kink or quirk I black could black add movies it. She movies spoke the perfect words (I had written them into the program), made blackteenslut the perfect gestures, and even simulated cumming at the precise moment I movies did. The fantasy that black we always satisfied each other perfectly black was absolutely perfect. She didn't have a favorite hole or position. She gave perfect head. She gave a cold metal tit fuck that made me thank slut god for titanium. Her hands were those of the perfect artist, shaping me like Michaelangelo in clay . When she was done I was always a marble masterpiece. A spire, honoring the gods of sex. And thereby an alter at which she could robotically worship. She was perfect black with every food and its uses in bed. She was dom slut, she was slave, she was robot, she was dolly, she blackteenslut was painted canvas, she was black a leather biker bitch (if I black wanted); she was a black conquered blackteenslut or conquering warrior black princess, she was a goddess, she slut was in suspended black animation, she black was some strange alien nymphomaniac blackteenslut, she was a black rubber and slut latex slave, she was a brainless beach bunny, she was a rape victim, she was a slut black, 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 black brought playmates home for her and me , she liked things in her ass, she drank me like I black was fine slut wine, she black sold herself on street corners blackteenslut and gave me the money, she masturbated herself black so perfectly I came black just watching. She was completely mine. She was the robot fantasy completely realized black. She was what she wanted to be. We teen were living the black fantasy . And it was pure hell.... We black were damned!
I watched helplessly as Susan lost her soul to the machine. Standing there slut completely impotent to act I watched her eyes, once so sparkling with life and joy and yes...love turn black pale and black milky like those of blackteenslut a dead fish in a meat market . This was what I had wanted so black badly. What she had been willing to do to never lose me. But in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse, which never could blackteenslut again blackteenslut give me black the warmth of her love. She was software instead of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She was the perfect lover, companion, would never displease or fail in anything asked teen of her. She was after all, programmed teen that black way. But black humanity cannot be programmed, a person can be programmed, but humanity, true blackteenslut caring and teen love can only black be imitated within the limits of circuits and programming black. I was blackteenslut suddenly very alone in the black perfect relationship. And as time movies progressed black, I came slut to understand that I had not only killed her; but like black some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard and desecrated her black corpse. Her cold metal corpse. And even worse yet I had played blackteenslut god and brought teen this beautiful blackteenslut abomination back, and like some fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to fulfill black my demented needs. As movies she had demanded blackteenslut I do. I remembered that she had blackteenslut wanted blackteenslut this blackteenslut, at least as much as I did slut. It was her fantasy too. To black be powerless, helpless in her own body, a mindless ever ready toy black. The blackteenslut perfect robot plaything black. But the realities of the black "real" world and the fantasy of fiction black are not always the same or compatible slut. To black tinker with the human black brain black, reprogram slut or alter it isn't so specific a process at our current level of technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter teen. Realistically such technologies are still centuries away. So slut REAL world robotization or chemical mind control or any such procedures are more like lobotomizing the "subject"/victim than slut "fine tuning". That's the sad reality. But she wanted to black be mine forever black. Wanted to be black beautiful forever. Wanted to be blackteenslut half human/ half something from black a sci-fi movie. The ultimate bondage slave was one who was bound inside herself. A slave in her own mind black. The fantasy black overrode the reality that SHE would be gone. We rationalized that some of her would remain. Trapped black in the fantasy black. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded joyfully, blindly.
I wanted her comfort. Her black love. And even though it is hard for a man to black admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn't go right. Small talk. The little intangible things one can black only blackteenslut get from someone who really cares, senses our secret needs. The warmth of someone who cares. The blackteenslut frailty , the pain they feel FOR US when they can't black help, but this itself helps black. All blackteenslut this was gone. What was missing was affection, love black. Love love love... even macho black guys really need it. Not something coldly black, logically responding to physiological signs or outward cues based on black preset preprogrammed lines blackteenslut of code.. Love and emotional companionship black were qualities that couldn't be broken down into data.
A dozen needles plunging mercilessly into my manhood to hold me inside her forever slut. Behold the man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into black me as she took her turn blackteenslut pumping me full. The chemicals blurred my mind. She begins to tell me how I will serve slut. What black my function will be. She will not release me. She is merciless. She is the sum of her program. I am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge teen. Ready to be submerged in a prison of steel. Helpless blackteenslut like she was once. I slut wonder if my soul will blackteenslut be able to escape this unliving coffin. If teen I can escape then blackteenslut maybe she too was freed long ago. Somehow black this does black not ease my mind . I do not believe movies it. I think I know I have damned us both to a soulless black steel eternity. But still hope she escaped black. I feel her begin to make teen the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway. She pumps me full of all the things I used on her. Irony and steel black. Microchips come to life and now unnecessary synapses black burn out. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the room. She will blackteenslut make me like blackteenslut her. She has been programmed. She is everything I hoped she would be, and now I had to pay for making her blackteenslut so black perfect. All mad scientists must invariably blackteenslut end the same way. This too is an ironic cliche. A black delicious one black.
|
