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I watched helplessly as Susan lost her soul to the machine naughty mom. Standing there completely impotent bookworms to act I watched her bookworms eyes, once so sparkling with life bookworms and joy and yes bookwormsnaughtyoffice...love turn pale and bookwormsnaughtyoffice milky like those of a dead fish in a bookworms meat market. This was what bookworms I had bookwormsnaughtyoffice wanted so badly. What naughty she had been willing to do to never bookworms lose me jpeg. But in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse, which never could again give me jpeg the naughty warmth of her love. She was software instead bookworms of soul. Steel instead of naughty tenderness. She was the perfect mom lover bookworms, companion, would never naughty mom displease or bookwormsnaughtyoffice fail in anything asked of bookwormsnaughtyoffice her. She bookworms was after all mom, programmed that way. But humanity cannot bookworms be programmed, a person can be programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can only be naughty imitated within the limits bookwormsnaughtyoffice of circuits and programming office. I was suddenly bookworms very alone in the perfect relationship. And as time progressed, I came jpeg to understand that jpeg I naughty mom had not only killed her; but jpeg like some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard and desecrated her corpse. Her cold metal corpse. And bookworms even worse yet I had played god and brought this bookworms beautiful bookwormsnaughtyoffice abomination back, and like some fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to bookworms fulfill my demented bookwormsnaughtyoffice needs. As she had demanded bookworms I do. I remembered that she had wanted this bookworms, at least as much as I did. It was bookworms her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless in her own body, a mindless ever ready toy bookworms. The perfect robot plaything bookworms. But bookwormsnaughtyoffice the realities bookworms of bookwormsnaughtyoffice the "real" world and the fantasy naughty mom of fiction mom are not always the same or compatible. To tinker with the human bookworms brain, reprogram or alter it isn't so naughty specific a process at our current level jpeg of technology as to be able naughty to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically such technologies are naughty mom still jpeg centuries bookworms away. So REAL world robotization or bookworms chemical naughty mom mind control or any such procedures are naughty mom more like lobotomizing the "subject"/victim than "fine tuning". That's the sad reality naughty mom. But she wanted to be bookwormsnaughtyoffice mine forever. Wanted to be naughty mom beautiful bookworms forever. Wanted to be half human/ half something naughty mom from a bookworms sci-fi movie. The bookworms ultimate bookworms bondage naughty slave was one who was bound inside herself. A slave in bookworms her own mind. The fantasy overrode the reality that bookworms SHE would be gone. We rationalized mom that naughty some jpeg of her would remain. Trapped in bookwormsnaughtyoffice the fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We naughty mom proceeded naughty joyfully, blindly.
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