 It was funny how I found only loneliness and despair in tranny perfection. The thrill of the fantasy , its novelty tranny, soon wore off. All tranny things lose tranny some "intensity" in time tranny. I had done it tranny all a dozen times. It simply got boring; doing all the thinking, the planning, the tranny fantasizing and arranging, that sexy we tranny used to do together mafia. It got to trannymafia be work. An effort. Having tranny to tranny cue every prompt made trannymafia me more like a stage director than trannymafia a lover. And afterwards I missed the warmth of trannymafia that trannymafia satisfied cuddle. The black tranny simple warmth of her body. A few words or sounds black tranny of tranny actual REAL contentment. Most of the time now, she trannymafia simply stopped when black tranny the program did. Or tranny worse went through the predictable motions tranny I had arranged. Or the limited repertoire of simulated spontaneity tranny.
 A dozen needles plunging mercilessly mafia into my manhood to hold me tranny inside her forever. Behold the man. Judgment. Acid fire pumping into me as she sexy took her turn trannymafia pumping me sexy full. The chemicals tranny blurred my mind. She begins to tell me how black tranny I will serve. What my tranny function tranny will tranny be. She will not release me black. She is merciless trannymafia. She is trannymafia the sum of her program tranny. I am trannymafia ready for robotization trannymafia. Ready for revenge. Ready to be submerged in black tranny a prison trannymafia of steel. Helpless like she was once. I wonder if my soul will black tranny be able to escape this unliving tranny coffin. If I can escape then maybe tranny she too was freed long ago. Somehow this does not ease tranny my mind. I do not mafia believe it. I tranny think I know I have damned us both to mafia a soulless tranny steel eternity. But tranny still hope she black tranny escaped. I feel her begin to make the alterations, adding hardware, inserting things, giving injections, preparing the program to run. The trannymafia process is well underway mafia. She pumps me full of all the things I used on her. Irony and steel. Microchips come to life and now unnecessary synapses burn out trannymafia. The smell of burning flesh and fading humanity pervades the room. She black will make me like her. She has been programmed tranny. She is tranny everything I hoped tranny she would tranny be, and now I had to tranny pay for making her so perfect. All mad scientists must black tranny invariably end the same way. This too is an ironic cliche. A delicious one.
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Family Mafia The Yemmens Tranny Stone Tranny I The First Stone
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Tranny Acid Tranny Of Tranny The Trannymafia Mind Tranny
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