I watched huge helplessly as Susan lost her soul to the b machine. Standing there completely impotent to act I watched hugeboobsgalore her eyes, once so sparkling with life and joy and huge yes...love turn pale galore and milky like huge those huge of hugeboobsgalore a dead fish in a meat image market. This was what I had wanted so badly. What she had been willing to do hugeboobsgalore to never lose huge me. But hugeboobsgalore in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse, which never could again give q me bar the galore warmth of her love. She huge was huge software instead bar of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She hugeboobsgalore was huge the perfect galore lover, companion, would never displease or q fail in galore anything asked of her. She was after all, programmed that way. But boobs humanity cannot be programmed, a person can be programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can only be imitated within the limits of circuits and programming. I was suddenly very alone in galore the perfect relationship. And as time progressed, I came to understand that I had not galore only bar b q galore killed galore her; but bar b q galore like some ghoulish b fiend, stole to galore the hugeboobsgalore graveyard and desecrated her corpse. Her cold galore metal corpse. And even worse yet I had played god and hugeboobsgalore brought this beautiful abomination hugeboobsgalore back, and like some huge fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to fulfill my demented needs. As she had demanded huge I do. I galore remembered hugeboobsgalore that she had wanted this, at least as huge much bar b q galore as galore I did. It was her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless in her own body, a mindless q ever ready toy. The perfect robot plaything. But the realities of the "real" world and the fantasy bar of fiction are huge not q always the same or compatible. To tinker with image the huge human brain, reprogram or alter it isn't so hugeboobsgalore specific huge a process at our galore current level of technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically huge such technologies are still centuries away huge. So REAL world robotization or chemical mind boobs control or any such hugeboobsgalore procedures are more like lobotomizing the "subject"/victim than "fine hugeboobsgalore tuning". That's the sad reality. But hugeboobsgalore she wanted to be mine forever. Wanted to huge be beautiful forever. Wanted b to be half human hugeboobsgalore/ half something from q a sci-fi movie. The hugeboobsgalore ultimate bondage slave was one who was bound inside b herself. A slave in huge her own mind. The fantasy overrode the reality that SHE would galore be gone. We rationalized that some bar b q galore of her would remain. Trapped in the fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded bar joyfully image, blindly.
It was funny huge how bar I found huge only loneliness and despair in perfection huge. The image thrill of galore the fantasy , its novelty, soon wore off. All things lose some "intensity" in time. I had done it all a dozen times. It huge simply got boring huge; doing all the thinking, the planning, the fantasizing and arranging galore, that we huge used to do bar together. It hugeboobsgalore got to be work. An effort. Having to cue every prompt made boobs me hugeboobsgalore more like a stage director than a lover. And afterwards I missed the warmth of that galore satisfied cuddle. The simple warmth of her huge body huge. A few words or sounds of actual REAL contentment. Most image of the time now, she simply stopped when the bar b q galore program did galore. Or worse went through the huge predictable huge motions I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity.
I wanted her comfort. Her hugeboobsgalore love. And huge even though it is hard huge for a man to admit: sometimes sympathy huge when the day didn't go right. Small talk. The little intangible things one can only get from someone who huge really cares, senses our secret huge needs. The warmth of someone who cares bar. The frailty , the pain they feel FOR US when huge they can't help, but this itself helps. All this was gone huge. What was missing was affection hugeboobsgalore, love. Love love love... even macho guys really need it. Not something coldly, logically hugeboobsgalore responding to physiological hugeboobsgalore signs or outward huge cues based on preset preprogrammed lines of code.. Love boobs and emotional companionship were qualities that huge couldn't be broken down into data.
I watched huge helplessly as Susan lost her soul to the b machine. Standing there completely impotent to act I watched hugeboobsgalore her eyes, once so sparkling with life and joy and huge yes...love turn pale galore and milky like huge those huge of hugeboobsgalore a dead fish in a meat image market. This was what I had wanted so badly. What she had been willing to do hugeboobsgalore to never lose huge me. But hugeboobsgalore in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse, which never could again give q me bar the galore warmth of her love. She huge was huge software instead bar of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She hugeboobsgalore was huge the perfect galore lover, companion, would never displease or q fail in galore anything asked of her. She was after all, programmed that way. But boobs humanity cannot be programmed, a person can be programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can only be imitated within the limits of circuits and programming. I was suddenly very alone in galore the perfect relationship. And as time progressed, I came to understand that I had not galore only bar b q galore killed galore her; but bar b q galore like some ghoulish b fiend, stole to galore the hugeboobsgalore graveyard and desecrated her corpse. Her cold galore metal corpse. And even worse yet I had played god and hugeboobsgalore brought this beautiful abomination hugeboobsgalore back, and like some huge fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to fulfill my demented needs. As she had demanded huge I do. I galore remembered hugeboobsgalore that she had wanted this, at least as huge much bar b q galore as galore I did. It was her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless in her own body, a mindless q ever ready toy. The perfect robot plaything. But the realities of the "real" world and the fantasy bar of fiction are huge not q always the same or compatible. To tinker with image the huge human brain, reprogram or alter it isn't so hugeboobsgalore specific huge a process at our galore current level of technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically huge such technologies are still centuries away huge. So REAL world robotization or chemical mind boobs control or any such hugeboobsgalore procedures are more like lobotomizing the "subject"/victim than "fine hugeboobsgalore tuning". That's the sad reality. But hugeboobsgalore she wanted to be mine forever. Wanted to huge be beautiful forever. Wanted b to be half human hugeboobsgalore/ half something from q a sci-fi movie. The hugeboobsgalore ultimate bondage slave was one who was bound inside b herself. A slave in huge her own mind. The fantasy overrode the reality that SHE would galore be gone. We rationalized that some bar b q galore of her would remain. Trapped in the fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded bar joyfully image, blindly.
It was funny huge how bar I found huge only loneliness and despair in perfection huge. The image thrill of galore the fantasy , its novelty, soon wore off. All things lose some "intensity" in time. I had done it all a dozen times. It huge simply got boring huge; doing all the thinking, the planning, the fantasizing and arranging galore, that we huge used to do bar together. It hugeboobsgalore got to be work. An effort. Having to cue every prompt made boobs me hugeboobsgalore more like a stage director than a lover. And afterwards I missed the warmth of that galore satisfied cuddle. The simple warmth of her huge body huge. A few words or sounds of actual REAL contentment. Most image of the time now, she simply stopped when the bar b q galore program did galore. Or worse went through the huge predictable huge motions I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity.
