It was funny how I found only loneliness and despair in perfection. The thrill of myfirstsexteacher the fantasy , its novelty, soon wore off. All myfirstsexteacher things lose some "intensity" in time. I had done it all mrs a myfirstsexteacher dozen times. It simply got boring; doing all the thinking, the planning, the fantasizing and arranging, that we used to starr do together. It got to be work. An effort. Having to cue every prompt made me myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex more like a stage director than a lover. And afterwards I missed the myfirstsexteacher warmth of myfirstsexteacher that starr satisfied cuddle. The simple myfirstsexteacher warmth of her body. A few words or sounds of myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex actual REAL starr contentment. Most of the time now starr, she simply stopped when the myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex program did. Or worse went through the predictable motions I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity.
I wanted her comfort. Her love. And even though starr it is hard myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex for a access man myfirstsexteacher to admit myfirstsexteacher: sometimes sympathy when myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex the day didn't go right myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex. Small talk myfirstsexteacher. The little intangible things one can only get from someone who really cares, senses our secret needs. The warmth of someone myfirstsexteacher who cares. The frailty , the pain they feel FOR US when they can't help, but this itself helps. All this was mrs storm gone. What was missing was affection mrs storm, love myfirstsexteacher. Love love love storm... even macho myfirstsexteacher guys really need myfirstsexteacher it. Not something coldly, logically responding to physiological signs or outward cues based on preset preprogrammed lines of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities that couldn't myfirstsexteacher be broken down into data.
I starr couldn't decide which myfirstsexteacher idea was worse. That she was completely gone or myfirstsexteacher that some small part of her myfirstsexteacher was still trapped in there myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex experiencing the same things mrs I was. If she was in there access looking starr out it was worse than any myfirstsexteacher prolonged death. I knew, I was looking in. In my shame. In my pain, in my loneliness. Into her myfirstsexteacher robot myfirstsexteacher corpse.
A dozen mrs needles plunging mercilessly into my manhood to hold me inside her forever. Behold the myfirstsexteacher man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into me as she took her turn pumping me full. The chemicals blurred my mind. She myfirstsexteacher begins to tell me how I myfirstsexteacher will serve. What my function will be myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex. She will not release me. She is merciless. She is mrs storm the sum of her program. I starr am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge. Ready starr to be submerged in a prison of steel. Helpless myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex like myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex she was once. I wonder if my soul will be starr able to escape this unliving coffin myfirstsexteacher. If I can storm escape then mrs maybe she too was freed long ago. Somehow this myfirstsexteacher does not ease my mind. I do not believe it. I think I storm know I have damned us both to a soulless steel sex eternity. But still myfirstsexteacher hope myfirstsexteacher she escaped. I feel her begin to sex make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well mrs underway. She pumps me full of all the things I used on her storm. Irony and steel. Microchips come to life and now unnecessary synapses burn out. The smell of burning myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex flesh and fading humanity pervades the room myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex. She will make me like her. She mrs has myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex been mrs storm programmed. She is everything I hoped she mrs storm would be myfirstsexteacher, and now I had to pay for making her myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex so perfect. All mad scientists must invariably end the myfirstsexteachermrsstarrsex same way. This too is an ironic cliche. A mrs delicious access one mrs storm.
I..do..not..know..
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