From its piercing under his glans, he flipped his metal ring up and over the head of his giant penis. When hooked behind his sulcus, its rough edges aimed out from the top. And his four barbell studs projected at equal distances along that length of the ventral or bottom surface of his penis. In a few seconds, he would use lubricant only for his own sake, just to get it quickly in and quickly moving. Otto had a perverse pride involving his equipment. It was a pride in the size of his penis, its metal stud type projections, and the impressive damage that the combination could do.
As he prepared to mount, he looked back, grinned once more, and waved at Kees with one of his gooey bright red hands. Both Kees and Kala quickly left the room. Then Otto lubed a little, stepped up behind the unprotected pelvic spread, and began to bury his Frankenstein monstrosity of flesh and metal, with full depth and force, all delivered at a sewing machine speed. He never looked down as he felt himself accomplishing his wonders, his brutally massive changes. Without his eyes bothering to direct it, his penis continued the relentless duty of a tool, combining the functions of punching, plowing and puncturing. He only stared off into the corner of the stage as if he were dazed. And when exposed to the horrific sounds, he just smiled and continued to stare into that space, while pumping harder and faster. In the past, while standing over his other 'slabs of meat', as well as now with this one, he would merely mutter, "Frish, Grund, Fleisch. Dein frisches Hackfleisch erhalten kommen." (fresh, ground, meat. Come and get your fresh ground meat.)
Just less than 30 seconds earlier, after Kees and Kala had rushed away from Otto's work, and back into the main lounge of Slechts Groot, the soundproof door had provided its all important service by closing tightly behind them.