 I watched about helplessly as Susan brown lost her soul to the blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown machine. Standing there completely impotent to act I watched girls her black eyes, once so sparkling with blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown life brown and joy and yes...love turn pale and milky like those about of a dead fish in a meat market. This was what I brown had about wanted so badly. What she had been willing to do to black never lose me. But in attempting to become my perfect blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown fantasy brown lori round I instead beheld an lori animated silver corpse, which never could again give me the about warmth of her love. She was software instead of soul. Steel instead of tenderness girls. She was the perfect black lover, companion blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown, would never displease or fail girls in anything asked of black her. She was after all, programmed that way black. But humanity cannot be programmed round, a lori person can be programmed, but humanity, true blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown caring and love can only be imitated within brown the limits of circuits round and programming. I was suddenly very alone in the perfect black relationship. And as time brown progressed brown lori round, I came to understand that I had not blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown only black killed her black; but like black some ghoulish blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown fiend, stole to the graveyard and desecrated her corpse. Her cold brown metal corpse. And girls even blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown worse yet I black had brown lori round played god and brought this beautiful abomination back lori, and like fucking some black fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her girls corpse to fulfill my demented black needs. As she had demanded I do. I remembered that she had wanted this, at brown lori round least as much as I did. It was her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless in black her own body brown, a mindless ever ready toy. The perfect robot plaything. But brown lori round the realities of the "real" world and the fantasy of girls fiction are blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown not always the same or compatible brown. To tinker with the human brown lori round brain, reprogram or alter it isn't girls so girls specific a process at blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown our current level of technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically such technologies are still centuries away. So blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown REAL world robotization or chemical mind control or any such procedures are more like black lobotomizing the "subject brown lori round"/victim than "fine tuning brown". That blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown's the sad reality. But she wanted to brown be mine forever. Wanted brown to be beautiful forever. Wanted to be half human/ half something from blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown a sci-fi movie. The ultimate bondage slave was one who girls was bound inside herself. A slave in her own mind. The fantasy lori overrode the reality that SHE would be blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown gone. We rationalized that some of her would blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown remain girls. Trapped in the fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We black proceeded joyfully, blindly.
 I wanted her comfort. Her love. And even black though it is hard for a man to admit: sometimes sympathy girls when black the day didn't blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown go right black. Small talk. The little intangible things one lori can only get round from someone who really black cares, senses our secret needs blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown. The warmth black of someone who cares. The frailty , the pain they feel blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown FOR brown lori round US when they can't help, but this itself helps. All this was gone. What was missing was affection, love. Love love love... even black macho guys really black need it. Not something coldly, logically responding brown lori round to physiological blackgirlsfucking-roundandbrown signs or outward cues based on preset preprogrammed lines black of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities that couldn't be broken down into black data.
 I couldn't girls decide which idea was worse. That she was completely gone or that some small part of her girls was still girls trapped in there experiencing round the same things I was. If she was in there about looking out it was worse than black any prolonged death. I knew, I was looking in about. In my shame. In lori my pain, in girls my black loneliness black. Into her robot corpse.
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