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