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     I wanted her pass comfort. Her love. And even though it is hard big for a man to admit: sometimes sympathy when the day didn boob't big go right bigboobpass. Small talk. The little intangible things bigboobpass one can only get from big someone who really cares big, senses boob our secret needs. The warmth of big someone who cares. The bigboobpass frailty , the pain they feel big FOR US when they can't help, but this itself helps big. All this was gone. What was missing was affection, love. Love love bigboobpass love... even macho guys bigboobpass really need it big. Not something coldly, logically boob responding to physiological signs or outward cues based on preset preprogrammed lines of code.. Love and emotional bigboobpass companionship were qualities that couldn't be broken down bigboobpass into data boob.
     I pumped my hard cock big into her perfect bigboobpass pussy. She bigboobpass lubricated perfectly bigboobpass. The muscles between her legs applied the perfect pressure to me so we fitted pass and felt...perfect together. She kissed me bigboobpass long pass and deep. Mostly tongue, the way i liked it. We swapped spit. She caressed bigboobpass all big the right site places perfectly. Her arousal was like big that of an animal . Every little bigboobpass motion was perfect. She site loved boob using her tongue. She licked my lips and plunged inside big my mouth again. We swapped more bigboobpass sweet spit bigboobpass. Her artificial salivation held step one boob of my plan big. I felt the chemicals big begin to big affect my thought processes. I felt her warmly release an bigboobpass endorphin laden chemical into her pussy bigboobpass. Step two. She pulled big me closer, wrapped her arms and legs around me so big I could barely continue making a motion. The sensuousness of her desperate grasp was intense. The helplessness big had been big exciting big (once). We swapped more spit. I tickled her tonsils big. Step three, too pass late big to turn back. I knew boob I couldn't pass break her grip now. Not that I cared to. I came big to the moment of climax, more an automatic response than sexual bigboobpass one. She came bigboobpass too, but that was hardly a surprise, her timing was always perfect. We climaxed, seizured, thrashed in an choreographed erotic explosion, finally knocking the big bed big right off its frame. It was sterile , Mechanical, and biological big like a chemical reaction more than bigboobpass anything. But still she held me. Close, lovingly, like she would never let go, passionately. A tiny part of me still clung to big the delusion pass.
     A dozen needles plunging mercilessly into my manhood bigboobpass to hold me inside her forever. Behold the bigboobpass man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into me as she took her turn pumping me full. The chemicals blurred my mind . She begins pass to tell me how I big will serve. What my function will be. She will not release bigboobpass me. She is merciless. She is the sum of her bigboobpass program. I am ready for robotization. Ready for revenge. Ready to be submerged in big a prison of steel bigboobpass. Helpless like she was once. I wonder if pass my soul will be able big to escape this unliving coffin. If I can escape big then maybe she too was freed long ago bigboobpass. Somehow this does not ease bigboobpass my mind. I do not believe it. I think I know I have damned us both to a soulless steel eternity. But still hope she escaped big. I feel her begin to make the alterations, adding hardware big, inserting big things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway bigboobpass. She pumps me full of all the things I big used on her. Irony and big steel. Microchips come to life pass and site now big unnecessary synapses burn out. The smell of burning flesh and big fading humanity pervades the room. She bigboobpass will make bigboobpass me like boob her. She has been programmed. She boob is everything I hoped she would be, and now big I had to site pay for big making her so perfect. All mad scientists must invariably end the same way bigboobpass. This too is bigboobpass an ironic cliche. A delicious one.
     She is working on my brain now. I thank her again while I still can. Whoever she is I pass (feel?) I should thank big her boob for (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond but big none-the-less somehow I vaguely understand that justice has been served bigboobpass. She rips out more parts I bigboobpass will no longer bigboobpass need. Replaces them with wiring and circuit boards. The big last thing I ever remember is the sweet I ..ron..ic agony of having the main control interface drilled and then injected painfully into the big base of my skull. Do machines scream?