"Oh, but you are, Mr. Jackson," she said calmly. "Your mainframe has reached its full capacity and no longer has the processing power to properly utilize this device. So, the device must be removed."

"What fuckin' mainframe? What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"You are the mainframe, Mr. Jackson, and you are the one that is corrupted," she replied. "And since your feeble mind can not understand what I'm saying, I'll put it to you like this: we're going to cut your dick off."

Trevon's face froze in horrified shock. His elevated head was as high as it could go, but he could not move it.

"Wh-wh----what? I hope you just said you're going to suck my dick soft!"

"No," she coldly replied while firmly applying the cream to his still-hard penis. Her rubbing made him twitch. "Tell me something, did you see any men outside today, Mr. Jackson?" He slowly shook his head.

"There's a reason for that. Every man has met the same fate you're about to meet. It is sadly ironic that this powerful piece of hardware is connected to such a vile species---as man."

Trevon clutched his fists and struggled vigorously to free himself from the powerful grasp of the metal grips to no avail.

"Tosha, why are you doing this? Please, don't!" he screamed.

"There. That should do it," she said, ignoring his pleas. "The cream I applied will freeze your device at a rate ten times faster than a regular refrigerator freezer would. In a few minutes, your device will be totally petrified and you will lose all feeling. We will then commence with the final phase of this evolution in a procedure we call, Operation Bobbit."

Trevon watched in horror as his penis began to rise at attention. His penis was getting so hard that he thought it was going to crack. He frantically tried to free himself.

"I know this is ----shall I say, 'hard' for you, Mr. Jackson. I'm afraid we must do this. You may ask why this happening to you. Well, it is because women for years have been suffering in silence at the two-minute episodes of mindless humping your species is known for. You, Mr. Jackson, haven't done anything for me sexually in the past two years we've been together. All you did was bump, hump, and slump. You know good and well a sista can't get down like that. I've developed an intense hatred for you and your kind, so me and a group of women got together and devised the perfect 'man.' His name is Doe Dilly, and he never disappoints. So basically, Mr. Jackson, we don't need ya!"

Tosha pointed to a large computer on the other side of the warehouse. Trevon turned to see women turning knobs and recording readings on clipboards. He noticed the computer spitting out rubberized penises onto assembly lines.

"You got a big ass computer to make dildos? Get the fuck outta here!"

"Not just dildos, Mr. Jackson. Doe Dilly is a mainframe devised, developed, and constructed into reality entirely by women. Its main objective is to tend to and satisfy all the sexual needs of all women by manufacturing the perfect piece of hardware. Another words, it makes the perfect dick for all of us."

"The perfect dick?"

"Yes. In order to make the perfect device, however, we must have the required input to produce the necessary output. That's where you come in, Mr. Jackson. The perfect dildo is made from the male penis."

Trevon could not believe what he was hearing. "This has been a fucked up, crazy ass day," he cried. "Tell me this: why the fuck do you have to do all this shit when you got the real thing right here?"

"The problem is not the device itself, " she replied. "It is the mainframe ---you, Mr. Jackson--- the device is attached to. We harden it, detach it, and load into Doe Dilly's mainframe for reconstruction. The devise is then put through a variety of stages that entails removing some of the inside flesh and blood, inserting Doe Dilly CPU chips, and in some cases---especially yours---adjusting the length and width. The actual exterior of the device remains the same and retains its flexibility