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"What the Hell is wrong with this machine, McClain? It ain't got no balls!"

A low, threatening murmur rose up from the restless crowd. They were beginning to mumble something about balls.

Masters McClain sensed disaster forming around him. Desperately, pleadingly, the little man leapt onto the seat of his aluminum chair. "It has balls!" his tiny voice screeched out in fearful protest, "It does! It really does! It has a maple syrup solution designed to secrete in seminal bursts at the proper moment as determined by the xylotropic computer, guaranteeing simultaneous orgasm effects which surpass…"

His feeble cry was cut off by a growing murmur from the crowd. "Balls," they cried in unison, slipping easily into the rhythm of a chant. "We want balls! We want balls!"

Lenny's voice rose above them all, as Lenny was humping and thumping and grinding onto the throbbing Xylotropic plunger. It was to no avail that she strained. She began to scream bitterly, "Nothing! Nothing! Nothing!"

The crowd took up her chant, mocking the new-born Xylotrope as though it were a toothless old man trying to please the big star with its limp-sponge dick.

"Damn it!" Lenny screamed out over the rioting crowd, "I'll show you what you want! I'll show you something dirty and groovy!"

She cast the unfortunate Xylotrope aside carelessly and placed two fingers into her mouth, whistling loudly. The sound had barely escaped her lips when the blurred figure of a massive grey Great Dane shot across the stage.

Lenny hadn't expected this, but she welcomed it for the second time that day. The huge dog did not waste any time now; he knocked the young blonde woman to the floor and waited for a short second for her to begin to rise. When her buttocks came up from the floor, Horatio drove his quivering red prick deeply into her cunt.

Lenny screamed out for joy, knowing that she was coming in tremendous spasms beneath the romping advances of a three-year-old thoroughbred.

"Arghhhh!" Lenny screamed, "Ahieee! Cuntfucking dog! Screw! Screw! Hump! Hump! Or! Oh! I see stars! I see Heaven!"

Lenny was aware of very little from that fine moment on. She sensed basically that there was some kind of wild stampede on the stage. Lenora appeared from the shadows, thrusting the inquisitive boa constrictor in and out of her vulva. The red tongue probed and searched in the gypsy womb for some key by which to open the door of understanding to this peculiar, human ritual, but the cold-blooded eyes saw nothing.

Somehow the sleepy sloth piled onto our Lenny and pumped her briskly with his colossal prick. She noticed this because he was not wearing his customary sailor suit. Instead, he had donned the coat-and-tails of one of the more rambunctious customers.

For the unfortunate Masters McClain the evening was so diverting, however, he was aware of only one thing. The audience had become foul, lustful beasts. His whole concept of a new technological sexuality – clean metallic stimulation in the relative privacy of one's own home – this whole lustrous concept had been shattered forever by the wicked Lenny Morgan and her magnificent menagerie.

He even suffered the ultimate of indignities. As he rose in his seat, clambering to the top of the aluminum seat which he personally had designed to fit the contours of the gluteus maximus – as the proud owner of the revolutionary new Xylotrope stood to stop the wave of customers who were storming the stage – Lyle Montagne reached over and tapped the aluminum leg of the chair.

"Light as a feather," Lyle commented dryly. "That's quite interesting. Why, a small breeze would probably move it. It's such a fine alloy." With that, the famous actor puffed lightly on one of the legs and sent the erstwhile inventor tumbling down onto his plump bottom.

"Damn!" the fat little man cursed mournfully. "Pride before the fall…"

"Yup," the actor added. "But after the fall – life! That's the way it happened in the Bible. You know – after the fall came rich, fertile, life!"

The tiny dwarf-like scientist and promoter seemed confused. He rubbed at his sore fanny and watched as the charging crowd trampled the Xylotrope to bits and pieces with a raucous chorus of cheers and curses. They then whirled in noisy delight to sample the physical joys of the menagerie and each other.

A fat woman in a low-cut evening gown ran clumsily after the scampering burro.

Another man enjoyed his wife from behind for the first time in twelve years, while she enthusiastically sucked on the mammoth prick of a hirsute gorilla. They suddenly screamed out in earsplitting harmony, and then fell exhausted into each other's arms.

In the light-booth, Boss Carl had successfully overpowered the technicians by opening his raincoat and laughing like a sex-crazed hyena. He then quietly shifted the dimmers from cold blue to lusty, warm red.

Lyle Montagne stood over the wounded McClain, laughing heartily with arms akimbo. After a moment or two, he took pity and looked down with understanding eyes.

"You had a question, I believe, Mr. McClain?"

"Yeah," McClain continued to rub timidly at his sore bottom as he stared dizzily up at the actor, "I wondered about that word you used before – uh – fecund. What does fecund mean?"

Lyle Montagne looked out over the chaotic scene below and laughed genially, "To you – my technological friend – it simply means dirty."

"Oh!" McClain commented self-righteously. "Is that all?"

"Yes that is all."

"Well, I guess it's not such a bad word in itself."

"Oh fuck you, you bastard. Look what you have done to this place. And then you talk about a word like fecund."

"What do you mean what I have done. Don't you think what I have done is good?"

"Yes but we're not enjoying any of the fun. That is my trouble."

At that McClain stood up and started unbuckling his pants.

"Well, let's go find us some girls then."

"Now wait, I don't want a girl," Lyle Montagne said stepping toward Mr. McClain.

"What do you want?" McClain asked ignorantly.

"Why some of that fat ass of yours," Montagne replied.

Then he lunged at McClain and caught him around the neck.

He began stripping the older man's clothes off of him.

McClain, of course, protested. But to no avail.

Soon Lyle had McClain's clothes off of him and was preparing to take his own off.

"How am I going to hold you while I take my clothes off?" he asked laughing.

Just then a pretty young girl stepped out of the crowd and said, "Hey, listen this looks like fun. Can I help in any way?"

"You sure as fuck can. Hold this unwilling asshole while I take off my clothes and then we will get to some good loving."

"Okay, let's get to it," the girl said eagerly.

"Listen you two, don't do this," McClain said lying on the floor.

By this time Lyle had his clothes off and his big nine-inch cock was hanging out in front of him.

The girl grew terribly excited at the sight of the huge cock and started to let go of the man.

"Now hold him. You'll get yours."

"Okay," she said.

Lyle got down on his knees and began massaging the ass of McClain. "I'll bet you have a nice asshole, asshole."

With that he turned the man over and ran his finger up his asshole. He continued to do this until he was sure that the ass was what he wanted.

Then he leaned down to McClain's cock and began sucking it. Faster and faster he sucked and the more he sucked the more McClain moved his hips.

The girl was terribly excited now and had to let go of McClain to run off to find herself a lover. She did not have to run far until she ran into an ape that was waiting to fuck somebody.

She grabbed the small ape and began masturbating him. The ape squealed with delight.

Faster and faster she jacked him off, and the closer she came the more he wanted her to continue.

Then she stopped and reached down between her bare legs and stuck a finger up her twat.