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