Yes, the years jpg passed. And the loneliness, and the guilt building inside of me, leaving me more boy empty than gay her. But now I had gay a plan, one to set everything jpg right gay. One to gayboy end my pain. One that would serve irony up on a grand platter. One that gay would gay be her unspoken just gayboy retribution gay if that spark still gay invisibly burned behind those glass eyes.
A dozen needles plunging mercilessly gay into my manhood gayboy to hold gayboy me inside her gay forever. Behold the man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into me as she took her gay turn pumping me full. The chemicals blurred my mind gay. She begins to tell me boy how I will serve. What my function gayboy will be. She will not release me. She is merciless. She is the sum of her program gay. I am ready for gayboy robotization. Ready gay for revenge. Ready to be submerged in a prison of steel. Helpless gayboy like she was once. I wonder if my soul will be gay able to escape this unliving coffin . If I boy can escape then maybe she too was freed long ago gay. Somehow this does not ease my mind. I do not believe it. I think I know I have gayboy damned us both to gayboy a soulless gay steel eternity gay. But gayboy still hope she escaped. I feel her begin to gayboy make the alterations, adding gay hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The process is well underway. She pumps boy me full gay of all the things I used on gay her. Irony and steel. Microchips come to life and now unnecessary synapses burn out. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the gay room. She will jpg make me like her. She has been programmed. She is everything I hoped she would be, and now I had to pay for making her so perfect. All mad scientists must gay invariably end gay the same way. This too is an ironic jpg cliche. A delicious one.
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