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<td width="100%"><h3 align="center"><font face="Verdana,Arial">All Extreme My Sins Extreme In Extremegayhardcore Silver </font></h3></td>
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I watched extremegayhardcore helplessly as Susan lost her soul extreme to the machine extremegayhardcore. Standing there completely impotent to act I watched her eyes, once <b>gay</b> so sparkling with life and joy and extreme yes extreme...love turn pale and milky like those of extreme a dead extreme fish in a meat market extremegayhardcore. This was what I had wanted image so badly. What she hardcore had been willing to do to never lose me. But in attempting to become my perfect fantasy I instead beheld extreme an animated silver corpse, which hardcore never could again image give me the warmth of her love extremegayhardcore. She was software instead of soul. Steel instead of tenderness. She was extreme the perfect <b>gay</b> lover, companion, would never displease or fail in anything asked of her. She was after all, programmed that way. But humanity cannot be programmed extreme, a person can be programmed, but humanity, true caring and love can only be hardcore imitated within the limits <b>image</b> of circuits extremegayhardcore and programming. I was suddenly image very alone in extremegayhardcore the perfect hardcore relationship. And as time progressed, I came to understand that I had not extreme only <b>extreme</b> killed her; but like some ghoulish fiend, stole to the graveyard and gay desecrated her corpse. Her cold metal corpse. And even worse yet I had played god and extreme brought this beautiful extreme abomination back, and gay like some fetishistic Frankenstein reanimated <b>extreme</b> her corpse to fulfill my demented needs. As she had demanded I do. I remembered that she extreme had wanted this, at least as extremegayhardcore much extremegayhardcore as I did. It was her fantasy too. To be powerless, helpless extremegayhardcore in <b>gay</b> her own extreme body, a mindless ever ready toy. The perfect robot plaything. But the realities of the "real" world and the fantasy extreme of fiction are not always the same or compatible. To tinker with the human brain, reprogram or alter it isn extreme't so specific <b>extremegayhardcore</b> a process at our current level of technology as to be able to pick selectively which things to alter. Realistically such technologies extreme are still centuries away extreme. So <b>extreme</b> REAL world robotization or chemical mind hardcore control or any such procedures extremegayhardcore are more like lobotomizing the gay "subject"/victim gay than "fine tuning". That <b></b>'s the sad reality. But she wanted to be mine forever image. Wanted to extreme be beautiful forever. Wanted to be half human / half something from a sci-fi extreme movie. The ultimate bondage extremegayhardcore slave was one who was extreme bound inside herself. A extreme slave in her extreme own mind. The fantasy overrode the extremegayhardcore reality that SHE would be gone. We rationalized extreme that some of extremegayhardcore her extreme would remain. Trapped in the fantasy. That being the fantasy. The thrill. The excitement. We proceeded joyfully, blindly.
<br> Yes, the years hardcore passed. And extreme the loneliness gay, and the guilt building inside of me, leaving me more empty than her. But now I had a plan, one to hardcore set everything right. One to hardcore end my pain. One that would extreme serve irony up on a grand platter. One that would be her unspoken just retribution if that spark still invisibly extremegayhardcore burned behind hardcore those glass gay eyes.
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