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I couldn't decide which idea was worse. That she was completely gone or that cock some small moms part of her was still trapped in there experiencing the same things sucking I was. If she was in there looking out it videos was worse than any prolonged death. I knew , I was looking in. In my moms shame sucking. In my pain, in my loneliness. Into momssuckingcock-suckmebitch her robot corpse.
She cock is working on my cock brain now. I thank her again while I still can. Whoever she is I (feel bitch?) I should thank her for (something?). Her cold eyes do not respond but none-the-less cock somehow I vaguely understand that justice has been served. She rips out more momssuckingcock-suckmebitch parts I will no longer need sucking. Replaces them videos with bitch wiring and circuit boards. The last thing I ever remember is the sweet I..ron..ic agony of having the main control interface drilled and then injected momssuckingcock-suckmebitch painfully into the base sucking of my skull. Do machines scream?
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