 I watched helplessly as Susan lost her soul de to the machine. Standing there completely impotent to act I watched her xxx eyes, once so sparkling with life and joy and yes...love turn fotoxxx pale and foto milky like foto those of a dead fish foto in a famosos meat market. This was fotoxxx what foto I had wanted so badly. What she had been willing to do foto to never lose me. But in attempting to become my foto perfect fantasy I instead beheld an animated silver corpse foto, which never could again give me foto the warmth of her love. She was foto software instead of fotoxxx soul. Steel fotoxxx instead of tenderness. She was the perfect lover, companion, would never displease or fail in anything asked of her. She about was after all, programmed that way. But humanity foto de famosos cannot be programmed, a person can be programmed, but humanity de, true foto caring and love can only be imitated within about the limits of circuits and foto programming foto. I was suddenly very alone in foto the perfect relationship. And famosos as foto time progressed, I foto came to understand that I had not only killed her about; but like some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard and desecrated her corpse. Her about cold metal corpse. And foto even worse yet I had played god and brought this beautiful abomination back fotoxxx, and like some fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated her corpse to fulfill my demented needs. As she had demanded I do. I remembered that she had wanted foto this, at xxx least as much as I foto did. It was her fantasy too. To be foto powerless, helpless in her own body fotoxxx, a mindless foto de famosos ever ready toy. The perfect robot foto plaything. But the realities of xxx the "real" world and the fantasy about of fiction are not always the same or compatible. To fotoxxx tinker with the de human brain, reprogram or alter famosos it isn't so specific a process at our current level of technology as to be famosos able to pick selectively about which things foto to alter. Realistically such foto technologies are still centuries away. So fotoxxx REAL world robotization or chemical mind control or any such procedures are more like lobotomizing the foto "subject"/victim fotoxxx than "fine tuning foto". That's the sad reality. But she wanted to be mine forever foto. Wanted to be beautiful forever famosos. Wanted to be half human/ half something from a sci foto-fi movie fotoxxx. The ultimate bondage slave was one who foto was bound inside herself. A slave in fotoxxx her own mind. The fantasy overrode the reality that SHE would be gone. We rationalized that some of her would remain. Trapped foto in the fantasy. That being the foto fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded joyfully, blindly fotoxxx.
 I wanted her comfort. Her love fotoxxx. And even foto though it is famosos hard for foto a man to admit: sometimes sympathy when fotoxxx the foto day didn't go foto right. Small foto talk. The little intangible things one can only foto get from someone who foto really cares, senses our secret needs. The warmth of someone who cares. The frailty , the pain they feel FOR US when they can't help, but about this itself helps. All this de was gone. What was missing was affection, love. Love love famosos love... even macho guys really de need it. Not something coldly, logically responding foto de famosos to physiological signs or foto outward cues based on preset foto de famosos preprogrammed foto de famosos lines famosos of code.. Love and emotional companionship were qualities fotoxxx that couldn't be broken down into data.
 Years passed foto. No one took her place. All that stuff about one foto true foto love, an foto irreplaceable soulmate is foto true. And I gutted mine like an old foto building needing renovation. Yet she remained; a shiny perfect reminder, a monolith, a gravemarker foto. A fotoxxx tombstone with three words only: "I love foto you".
 Yes, the years passed. And the loneliness, and the guilt building inside of me, leaving me more empty than her. But now fotoxxx I had a plan, one to set everything right. One to end fotoxxx my pain. One that would serve irony up on a fotoxxx grand platter. One that would be her unspoken just retribution if that spark still invisibly burned behind those foto glass eyes.
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