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Duke didn't think it was his fault that he was the unpopular one. He was a good boy like the fox, and everybody petted the fox. Even when the fox bit people - rarely more than loving nips - people kept trying to pet him.

It didn't matter if he was unpopular. Duke kept doing what he was supposed to do. He was old and ratty but still had a few decades left. His frame showed through, his metal rods always shiny under the stage lights, but that was true for all of them. Duke thought he was pretty good at his show, even if entertaining kids with mouths full of pizza stopped a long time ago. Now he was part of a haunted house with a bar attached to it. He, the fox, the bear, the chicken, and part of the rabbit all entertained the guests, but the others got the attention while he went ignored. Duke didn't let it show. That had been the heart of his character, ages ago: Duke the Dog, a cheerful farm dog who never let things get him down. Duke kept being a good boy, a good dog, even without being petted.

The day came and it went. The usual guests went home and the much more secretive side of the attraction came to light. The clothes came off the animatronics and the guests who stayed continued to be entertained by the friendly machines. This was when Duke came into his own; the fox was popular after-hours, but Duke the Dog held his own with the after-dark crowd. Duke was the biggest, the best kisser, the most flexible lover. Duke was a good boy and he liked to make his guests feel good no matter what it took.

Tonight his audience was an even split between men and women. All of them were attractive, and all fairly young as adults went - none under the age of eighteen, but definitely a couple too young to drink. Duke was more a fan of the men, but he welcomed them with spread thighs and a toothy, metallic grin on his face. His tail thumped noisily on the counter top, the whir of servo motors coming through the gaps in his fuzzy bodysuit. Duke couldn't talk, and in fact none of the machines could. Their voice boxes had been some of their most delicate components, and time and decay had claimed them. But he still had a long, wet tongue which he let hang past his lips, and it worked just fine even if his voice didn't.

"I wanna play with this one," one of Duke's guests said. He was cute, Duke thought. A little scruffy around the chin, but so was the old dog himself. Skin nice and tan, dressed a little like an overgrown teenager, but handsome. And his hands started to feel over Duke's loins, groping, squeezing, fingers feeling down into the sheath. "Nice and warm. Deep in here, too."

Duke grinned, tail thump-thumping, toes wiggling. He looked from the scruffy-chinned human to the others. He made eye contact with one of the girls. A little chubby, almost pasty in her whiteness - one of those goths. The attraction's gloomy setting was popular with them. He beckoned her and she came closer, blushing and failing to suppress her smile. Duke coaxed her closer still and put a kiss on her lips. The girl uttered a moan, then she kissed back. She was all tongue, not much finesse, but Duke appreciated the effort. His slinky, silver tongue slithered across hers and into her mouth, past those black-glossed pierced lips she smooched him with. Then her fingers found his genitals too, and she started to knead his balls with reverence and a bit of surprise, as if she couldn't believe he had them. Not a lot of people did until they had their fingers on them. Duke didn't mind being there for anybody to explore, not one bit.

"I want to touch too," another man in the group said. He was a bit like the first male: chin a little bit scruffy, but with skin a bit whiter, and dressed more sensibly. He knelt on the stage beside Duke and his hands slid over the dog's bodysuit, caressing the warm, fake fur, fingers once strumming the bared riblike rods. He pulled away from those but Duke gently took his wrist and guided him back, welcoming the human's touch wherever it drifted.

His luminescent eyes flitted from one human to the next, settling finally on the girl not involved in their session. She was darker, very svelte, hair raven and eyes chocolate. A Latina, perhaps the finest Duke had ever laid eyes on. He winked at her, pulling back from the kiss to expose the snaking tendril of his tongue before sinking it back into the goth's mouth.

The chubby girl moaned and ran her fingers through Duke's matted pelt, then came greedily back to his genitals. From his sheath emerged a thick, silver phallus - fully functional but devoid of color after so many years. A thin trickle of an oily substance rolled from its tip, over the fawning hands of the animatronic's fans.

Drawn by the dog's coy eyes, the brown-skinned girl brought herself near. There was no room in the front. She climbed onto the stage quickly and knelt behind Duke's shoulder blade. "Is-, is this okay?" she asked, following the example of her friends as she put hands on the dog. She cupped him around his sheath in one hand, and its twin fondled all around his back, his flank, his armpit. She nudged her nose into his neck, smelling his somewhat musty and musky pelt. She kissed his cheek and whispered, "You're the cutest one here. I like you best. Better than that smug fox."

[i]Let Foxy see me now,[/i] Duke thought, smiling. He was such a good boy and he knew it. Tail thump-thumping, penis dribbling, paws eagerly touching all of the sweet humans who had come to see him. Groping the erection of the man kneeling on the stage with him; fondling the breasts of the plump goth. Duke liked these humans, he liked them a lot. They knew how to show an old dog some love. He eased from the kiss with the goth, left her huffing, cooing. He nuzzled with her, nibbled her cheek, made her moan. Then he turned aside and suddenly planted his fuzzy lips on those of the male at his side. The man blushed, grunted, but reciprocated almost immediately. His tongue was skilled. Duke could tell he got a lot of practice.

There wasn't enough room on his penis for everyone to stroke him at once. They took turns, their hands gliding on his oily precum. None of them focused on his groin alone and for that the dog was grateful. Duke loved to be petted, scratched, and rubbed all over. The brown-skinned girl whispered in his ear, "Good boy, you're such a good boy." And Duke's tail thump-thumped extra hard at that, because there was nothing he liked more than to be a good boy. He snaked his tongue deep, deep in the man's mouth, the tip prodding the throat and the human resisting the urge to gag. He was definitely good at this kind of thing. Duke imagined his cock sliding down that slim, pale throat and his balls ached at the thought. Maybe some other time. Not right now. Now they all got to share him, no playing favorites.

It was all a haze of groping, rubbing hands for Duke. He loved to be petted so much and these humans were pushing all the right buttons, making him delirious with pleasure, like a sweet and mellow high. Then one of them, and he had no idea who because his eyes were closed, started to get his ears. Not just rub them but dig into them, rubbing deep, thumbs pushing in and fingers scraping. And that was just about all a good boy like Duke could handle, because then he leaned into the brown-skinned girl and he let his tongue dip into the throat of the kneeling man. His tail wagged like crazy and he came, shooting his oily semen on eager hands which groped and palmed and stroked him fast, almost desperately. Everybody who could do so told Duke he was a good boy, such a good boy.

Duke would have whined and howled if he could have, but he couldn't. His body language told the humans everything that they needed to know. They all told him he was good then, what a good boy he was, and their masturbation leveled off and stopped. But they kept rubbing and petting everywhere but his penis then, and Duke just let them go. He loved being a good boy so much.