.
The Melinda 109: A Little Shop Story
PART ONE
"I can't believe it's here!" Webb said excitedly.
Soapy shook his head, as Plato and Cato dismembered the packing case, and
pulled Melinda 109 out. She was something--five seven or maybe five eight
inches tall. Blonde. Icy sapphire eyes. Beautiful face, much like Mary
Hart from Entertainment Tonight, but with much fuller lips. And Melinda 109 was
dressed in a snug turtleneck, a miniskirt and high heels on the long legs.
"Oh she's beautiful" Webb said, his erection
poking through his pants. "Does-does she dress
like that all the time?" Soapy fished a manual out. "No, the 109 has
about seven different outfits. And she can change her own clothes, as well as
looking after your interests. There's a suitcase with her, and it's got a
leather outfit, and a cocktail dress, and some rubber stuff."
Cato grinned, a big, black grin with gleaming white teeth,
and took out the remote control. Clicking it, suddenly Melinda spoke.
"You're a bad boy, Webb. Take your pants down and bring me the
hairbrush." Cato and Plato roared. "She got yo' number, Mist'
Cleary!" Webb blushed. Her head swiveled around, looking at all
the men, and Soapy sighed and gestured to the blacks to pick up the packing
case.
Melinda 109 stepped over the Styrofoam peanuts crapping up
the floor and clicked her heels as she walked over to Soapy and Webb. Her head
turned to Soapy. "Melinda 109 is back, Mister Soaperstein. I have been
programmed to dominate Webb Cleary." Soapy gestured to Webb.
"This is Webb Cleary, Melinda. I hope you've gotten a decent overhaul up
there."
The robot smiled, and Webb gasped. "I have improved,
yes Mister Soaperstein. My fingers can move now" Both men looked down at
Melinda 109's right hand. She picked up a small dildo from a display table and
began massaging it. "I can give Webb a severe teasing without allowing
orgasm." The manicured fingers were incredible.
Melinda 109 dropped the dildo back on the display
table. "I can also give Webb a mild Number One thrashing, a moderate
Number Two Thrashing or a severe Number Three thrashing, based on what he
programs into the remote control." Melinda 109 drummed her tin fingernails
on the counter as her head swiveled and she looked directly at Webb.
"Whatever he needs."
"Watch the number #3" Plato called as they walked
back downstairs. "That's the one where she whip
you til she smells blood."
"Webb, dude, you really can get out of this with your
deposit back if you want." Soapy said. "Melinda is a lot to deal
with...at least if you have her as a submissive, you won't get hurt,
but..."
Melinda 109 smiled.
"As a submissive, I can perform orally for hours, and
my bare bottom will produce real welts that do not disappear for twenty-four
hours after a thrashing...and my nipples can be tweaked and will support
weights up to ten pounds."
Melinda's head swiveled to look sharply at Webb. "My
electronic clitoris plays like a video game. If I don't register three orgasms
from your tongue, the punishment will be quite arduous." Webb began
panting. Soapy sighed again. No one noticed the woman staring from across the
store, near the riding crop closet.
There was Melinda 109, available to a new renter, Jesus,
Serena thought. The poor guy probably had to mortgage his house to get a month
of Melinda, he doesn't look rich.
Serena was a commodities investment analyst, well off,
and even she had been a bit amazed at Melinda's thousand--a week price. But,
she’d thought she could use a little company, a little discipline in the house
when she'd rented Melinda from the Little Shop a year ago, before they hired
that ex-junkie Soaperstein to manage the joint.
The first few nights, she'd enjoyed being stripped naked
and humiliated by the clothed robot, taking harsh hairbrush whippings and
then licking between Melinda 109's metallic thighs.
When Serena needed a quiet night or friends were coming over
to watch "My Name's Earl" and have a few Long Island Iced Teas, she
could just click the remote on "off" and put 109 into the closet for
an evening...
Melinda didn't mind. In fact one night after the last friend
left, Serena was feeling a little lonely, and clicked the remote, and out came
Melinda 109, clicking on her heels. "The kitchen floor is filthy."
she'd said in her mechanical staccato. "Strip and scrub it with your
teeth."
Serena had spent from one to
When Serena was sufficiently blistered, she sneaked over to
the remote clicked it "off" again, locked up Melinda 109 and had a
feverish twenty minutes with her vibrator.
It had been such a perfect relationship, until Serena's
toddler nephew had dropped the remote in the toilet on Thanksgiving, and then
it had never worked right again. When Serena next summoned Melinda from the
closet...oh God.
She'd just wanted a nice Sunday afternoon humiliating
panties down bedroom-slipper paddling over Melinda 109's knee, followed by corner
time, and instead Melinda had marched out of the closet, ripped Serena's
clothes off, and then all hell had broken loose.
Melinda had shrieked at Serena, and bound her hands behind
her with piano wire. (Where had the robot found piano wire? Had she temped for
the Mafia?) Then Melinda had severely caned Serena's 32 C breasts, before
pushing 23 thumbtacks in Serena's sensitive areolas.
Then, Melinda had dropped her skirt and pulled her panties
down, and, before Serena's startled eyes, Melinda's twat had opened, and a long
dick came out. Melinda was also a transsexual! Melinda 109 had grabbed Serena
by the hair and...well, at least the semen was made of
condensed milk, which was sweet.
After that ordeal was over, Melinda 109 "boxed"
Serena's ears and said. "Now I'm going to drive my stiletto into your
pussy!" The robot was so strong! Serena had run downstairs and come back
with a crowbar, which she'd bashed in the back of Melinda 109's head,
repeatedly.
Melinda had fallen over, and Serena had run around to
the other side and whacked Melinda again, but the mistake Serena made
was...Melinda 109's brain was not in her head...but in her stomach.
And so the robot rose once more!
Because the crowbar had caved in 109’s head but, like the
Energizer Bunny, on it went. Melinda 109, metallic face bashed in, had grabbed
Serena by the shoulders and told her “I’m going to make you into a tranny slut,
boy!”
Serena screamed at Melinda that since she was a woman-born
woman, this was impossible, and continued to frantically click the remote. but 109 dragged Serena into the bedroom by her hair and
forced her in a chair and rubbed garish lipstick all over Serena’s face.
The robot then went
to shoving a blond wig on top of Serena’s brunette locks, and while 109 turned
to the lingerie drawer, Serena had jumped out of the window, falling in the
rose bushes before she’d run to a neighbors and called the Dedham County cops.
The cops had stared at her rather peculiarly, (what an
explanation) before going into the house and gunning Melinda down. (But
not before she’d ripped down the pants and caned Badge No # 093248; and twisted
Detective Kauser’s nipples )
The Little Shop had settled out of court with a very
generous gift certificate…much of which Serena had spent already. And of course
she was now in the shop after a riding crop that her
new, HUMAN Mistress could use on her.
Sixty-two year Esme wasn’t beautiful like Melinda, and her
butt was way too big (not fun for Serena to rim). Often Esme wasn’t in the
mood…and her canings were tepid. But when Serena said “stop” Esme stopped, and
that was good enough. But Serena looked at Melinda 109 with an
intensity, and had to squelch out of the Little Shop with dampened
panties.
Back at the counter, Webb and Soapy were going over payment
details, and Melinda 109 surveyed the scene. The Little Shop was just as it had
been before. She looked at Soaperstein, the manager.
Data? Ponsonby Aurelius "Soapy" Soaperstein,
five foot nine, 165 pounds, born St. Luke's Hospital in Chattahoochee,
Georgia, 4/10/65, minor public education ending with expulsion for selling
Percodan pills at Bell Vocational High
First interest in opiates after receiving Demerol for
childhood earache; arrested for breaking into People's Drugstore in Washington,
D.C. for codeine pills
Soaperstein charged with looting sister's trust fund,
Soaperstein's next twenty years was punctuated by three more
marriages, fifty-two drug arrests, thirty-three convictions, and five
trips through the Northern New Hampshire Correctional Facility.
This before Jonas Tamulevich, parole board member, had
arranged Soaperstein's release with the understanding that he work at the
Little Shop, which Tamulevich owned with his brother,
Melinda 109 turned her gaze on Webb Lionel Haskins. This was
the client. Data? Born
In
In
Then
Webb graduated from
University,
While Webb Haskins was in
Married Glynnis Purchell, owner of Purchell Department
Stores,
Webb Haskins has been a Circuit Court Judge in
Melinda smiled.
Soapy wasn’t so sure about Melinda 109, as he watched Webb
holding the mechanical woman’s hand, gazing into the glass eyes with some kind
of joy.
The first week out of prison, Tamulevich, the Little Shop
owner, had been giving Soapy training, so Soapy could run the place while
Tamulevich opened yet another Little Shop in
All of a sudden, the Little Shop door rang and a tall,
attractive blonde clicked in with high heels, accompanied by a short, pudgy
fellow in a business raincoat. Soapy’s eyes widened a bit, as he thought
perhaps the fat little guy was wearing high heels, too. Soapy shouldn’t have
left his bifocals in the cell back at Northern NH Correctional.
“Good morning, Mr. Tamulevich” the blonde said as the two
approached the counter. “I am returning, the fortnight with
Tamulevich smiled widely. “Well, Mr. Whitman, whenever you
can afford to have ze Melinda back, you know she’d love to come back for a
visit. And remember, you can have half-hour visits weet her here at ze Little
Shop for only $300 per hour.”
Soapy looked askance at Tamulevich. Here was the brother of
the parole board member who had effectively extorted Soapy to work at this
pervert store job (not that Soapy’d ever enjoyed working much of anywhere) as
the price of getting out of Northern NH
Correctional.
Was Judah Tamulvevich a pimp, too? Soapy had once
unsuccessfully tried to convince his Aunt Maude to peddle ass for him after
she’d had a face-lift, so he wasn’t judging but…
Tamulevich, correctly interpreting Soapy’s astonishment,
snorted. “No no, jailbird. Oi veh, the day I dehumanize and exploit a real
woman by having her hook for me, no.” Tamulevich gestured to Melinda 109.
“Melinda, show him your chest.”
Soapy blushed as Melinda 109 unzipped her halter top,
exposing beautiful, if a bit stiff breasts, and as she pressed a button on her
right nipple, both breasts opened up to show a variety of batteries and wires
where a woman’s rib cage would be. Soapy
felt somewhat faint, and ate a Tuinal he had been palming.
“You see, Soaperstein?” Tamulevich said proudly, as Melinda
snapped her tits back in place and zipped up her halter top. “Mein oldest son,
Professor Jonathan Tamulevich invented ze Melinda 109, and she is making us a
fortune.”
“Oh, Miss Melinda” the pudgy Randolph Whitman said
simperingly. “I’ve never seen your inner transmission before. It’s quite
attractive.” SLAP!
Whitman fell to the floor as Melinda 109’s palm grazed his
cheek. As the little man got up, his lip bleeding, Melinda 109 said, “I never
even let you see my bare breasts, because you’re such a wussie.
All you were allowed to see was my lingerie bikini top while
I was masturbating you…You will have to earn the right to see my breasts when
you rent me next time. So sell your father’s Bentley! Now, Randy, I order you
to open your trench coat and show Mr. Tamulevich and Mr. Soaperstein your
shame.”
The little pudgy man looked pleadingly at his dominant
android. “Please, not that, Miss Melinda, not now.” He stepped back, and Soapy
noticed that indeed Whitman was wearing high heels under the normal male trench
coat.
Tamulevich turned to the trembling trench coat pervert. “That’s
all right, Mr. Whitman. Just give me the remote clicker and I will turn Melinda
off for you, and you can go home.”
Randy looked terrified. “I-I gave the remote to Melinda 109,
Judah. She’s in charge.”
Tamulevich shook his head. “That was stupid meshugennah
thing to do, Whitman. Only other remote is downstairs, in storeroom near
Kennel. I cannot control—“
Melinda laughed a throaty, iron chuckle. “Calm down Mr.
Tamulevich. Melinda 109 will surrender the remote control to you after Randy
does as he’s told. Must I strip you myself, Randy, in this store where I have
hundreds of whips and chains within reach?”
Soapy had coughed, as he remembered that he had not yet gone
to the Methadone Maintenance this morning. This was a helluva lot to take, even
with a Tuinal down his throat. If there aren’t enough feminist bitches in the
world, they make them now outta ROBOTS?
Finally, with tears running down his face, Randy Whitman
opened up his trench coat revealing that he was wearing only a pair of long
johns with the crotch cut out of them, and his stiff dick was hanging there,
dripping. The long johns were also cut off at the knee, and beneath them were
indeed short stockings and high heels.
Suddenly Melinda 109 had grabbed a cane off the display
counter. WHACK! The cane bounced off
The little man had scurried off, and Melinda 109
had walked to a metal dolly cart and stood on it, before holding out the remote
control, which Tamulevich had clicked off.
“Now, Soaperstein, get your lazy tuchus up and
wheel Melinda into the storage closet, and attach jumper cables from large
battery you will find there.”
And Soapy thought he'd seen the last of Melinda
when he shut the storeroom door on her...but no chance of that.
Soapy’s next interaction with Melinda 109 was the
next day-- when he was cleaning out the storeroom. Melinda was propped by
the door, and when he nudged her to pick up a discarded video box (“DETROIT
HALF-SMOKE BOFFS THE HUMAN BIDET”) Melinda came to life, scaring the shit out
of him.
“Bad mistake, clerk boy” Melinda said as she stood
up straight, knocking the broom out of Soapy’s hands. “You turned me on, so to
speak.”
Melinda 109’s clear blue glass eyes were boring
through Soapy as her fingers unbuckled his pants and dragged them down.
“G-get the fuck away from me, you freaky appliance.” Soapy
stammered, trying to get out of Melinda’s way, but her right hand grabbed his
wrist and twisted it behind his back, reaching over and pulling his other arm
there too.
Soapy struggled, but the robot’s strength was
incredible. Melinda 109’s left hand ripped Soapy’s Fruit of the Looms off and
she took his penis in her fingers.
As a contrast to the
iron grip of the right hand, Melinda 109’s left hand went silky soft, Soapy could feel the steel
fingers becoming foamy. As he looked down unbelievingly, lube squirted out of
her fingertips
“Ever been teased, clerk-boy?” Melinda’s breasts rubbed
against Soapy’s narrow chest, and her slippery metal fingers began tickling his
balls and massaging the large purple vein on Soapy’s under shaft.
How was this possible that she could touch his balls and his
cock?
Soapy stared at her fingers, which grew longer and longer,
as if she had drunk
This was the hand job from outer space, man. But Soapy was
having a hard time resisting, as the fingers were now feeling like velvet as
they expertly massaged his cock, rubbing faster and then slowing in an almost
perfect alternate.
In Soapy’s experience, when girls gave hand jobs eventually
their hands got tired, but Melinda 109’s hands just kept going and Soapy’s
groin began trembling as he approached orgasm.
As Soapy began panting and gasping, Melinda’s fingers went
faster and more lube shot out of the tips. Melinda 109’s boobs rubbed against
Soapy’s chest again, and she smiled.
“You think you’re so superior to the perverts who come into
the Little Shop, clerk-boy, but in my opinion you’re just shut off from the
real world, you know that?”
“You hide behind your needle and your provincial opinions….”
Melinda 109’s lovely fingers tugged Soapy’s foreskin, while her thumb bounced against
the shaft rhythmically, like a tiny metronome.
“You think you’re superior to poor fucks like Randy, who is
addicted to high heeled shoes and girls that hit him…so superior.”
Melinda leaned her
head to Soapy’s ear and she blew air in his ear, deep from her chassis, and
Soapy realized it was like putting your head next to a small air conditioner.
“Don’t you know, clerk-boy, that
I’m more of a woman than any of those flesh-and-blood barroom skanks you pick
up at the shooting galleries?”
Melinda’s breasts rubbed against Soapy, and he leaned
down and Melinda shoved his head between her huge breasts, which began
expanding, getting larger from a 32C to a 44DD as his head bobbed happily
between the perfumed orbs.
“I know all about
you, Soaperstein, that you skim from the till, that you’re still getting high
every day…Jonas and Judah know it too, but they don’t care as most of the
business is credit and since you’re a druggie, you don’t creep out the
customers…heroin is so much more interesting than reality, eh, Soaperstein?”
And it was—Soapy recalled that his previous parole had only
lasted twenty minutes because he’d begun shooting Dilaudid in the bathroom of
the train taking him away from prison…and he’d opened the door and fallen into
the lap of a vacationing police sergeant.
Soapy was a heroin aficionado…it was sad…but he wasn’t
thinking about heroin now!
No sir. This was really something, Soapy thought. Soapy felt
Melinda 109’s fingers rubbing faster and faster, giving him a hand job like he’d
never experienced, and he again tried desperately not to care, she was, after
all just an automaton, but in a way so was he, right?
109 kept tickling Soapy’s testicles, rubbing her metal
fingers gently on the underside of his cock, and as he got more and more
excited, he felt his cock getting harder, and his legs trembling.
Suddenly, Melinda’s fingers began stroking slower and Soapy
frustratedly realized that she’d cheated him of a chance at an orgasm. This
must be the all so important tease denial, right?
“C’mon android, let me cum, honey.” Melinda 109 ignored him
and just kept rubbing her fingers on his cock. By this time, Soapy had
dislodged his head from her full breasts and they’d shrunk back to 32C again.
“Look, Melinda, let me go or let me shoot, this is
ridiculous…you’re like a R2D2 whore or something.” Suddenly Melinda’s glass
eyes narrowed.
WHACK! Suddenly Melinda’s metal mitt pulled away from
Soapy’s dick and she bitch slapped him two or three times, before genuflecting.
Melinda 109 then threw Soapy across her knee and began whacking his bare ass
again and again until he began howling.
“Who do you think you
are, Soaperstein? You’re just a pitiful creature and you make me sick!”
Suddenly Soapy reached around behind Melinda and flicked a switch behind her
head and she stopped in mid motion, and Soapy struggled out from her knee and
moved away as fast as possible.
Leaving the storeroom, he’d gone to a shooting gallery as
soon as possible and spent the rest of the day high and drunk.
A week or so later, a largish muscled and tattooed
bald man stalked into the Little Shop, and Tamulevich looked up at him. “Hello,
Mr. Gridwell. I assume you have the money?” The bald man grinned, and Soapy,
surreptitiously snorting a bit of crushed Oxycontin in the bookstore section,
noted only three teeth.
“Yeah, here you go, Mr. Tamulevich. Took me eight
months to come up with it.” The bald man opened a briefcase filled with green
bills. “Four thousand for the damages, seven to rent her again for six weeks.”
Tamulevich counted the bills quickly, and looked at
Gridwell severely. “You have learned, I assume, that Melinda rusts in the rain.
Do not do that again. My brother was quite irritated at the repair work.”
“Well, she didn’t tell me nothin’ like that, and I
ordered her to kneel in da back yard for punishment.
I done that
to my wife and kids, made ‘em take off all their clothes and stand in d’ rain,
nuttin’ happened.” The big man shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe it,
Georgette got feminism or an attitude or some’pin and she and da kids moved out
dis year.”
Soapy came out of the book section, scratching his
head, as Tamulevich went to the storeroom.
“Gridwell? From Anger Management class in
“Oh, hi, Soapy, how you doing? I was just up at New
Hampshire Correctional for aggravated assault onna meter maid an’ dey told me
you useta have the cell next door.” Gridwell smiled pleasantly.
“You know, Gridwell, Melinda 109’s kind of a
bitch…you sure you want her?” Soapy couldn’t imagine the hulking man putting up
with all that Randolph Whitman had.
“Oh no, Melly’s a real sweetheart.” Gridwell said,
smiling.
There was a noise, and behind them Mr. Tamulevich
came out, accompanied by Melinda 109. But now the severe blond bun had been
dismantled, and instead Melinda’s blonde tresses were in curling
ringlets on both sides of her head.
Melinda had
discarded the halter top leather miniskirt and high heels that Soapy had last
seen her in, and was now clad in a short ruffled pink dress, designed, Soapy
might think, for a girl of eight back in 1939.
Melinda carried a parasol in one hand and a Raggedy
Ann doll in the other...
She looked like Shirley temple, but with huge
knockers and long legs, with her feet in white knee socks and black patent
leather Mary Janes. As Soapy watched, Melinda skipped gaily up to Gridwell.
“Hi, Uncle Oscar! Uncle
Melinda jumped up and down, and despite looking
rather light on her feet, the weight of a metal robot’s bounce made everything
jiggle, and the nipple clamp bulletin board fell to the floor.
Gridwell smiled indulgently, until he saw the mess
of the nipple clamps, which Soapy went over to clean up. “You’re making messes
again.” Soapy turned to watch Gridwell’s face burn with rage. “Why are you such
a clumsy girl?” Gridwell slapped Melinda’s face, and then sucked his hand, as
he’d forgotten what her face was made out of.
Tamulevich said hurriedly, “You can use a cane if
you like, Gridwell, her butt is foam as you know.” Melinda was now looking at
the floor, and wet drops of salt water were falling out of her eyes. Not quite
down her cheeks; Jonathan Tamulevich hadn’t quite gotten that right yet.
Gridwell grabbed a cane and came back over to
Melinda. "You're a bad, bad girl, and you're going to have to be
punished!" Melinda 109 looked sadly at Gridwell, her plastic lower lip
trembling.
"H-here, Uncle Oscar, in front of all these
people, Uncle Judah and Uncle Soapy?" There was a clatter of nipple clamps
dropping behind her.
Gridwell showed his teeth, and whacked the bamboo
in his hand. "That's right, and you're gonna bend over that counter and
pull down your pants, an' at home I'm gonna hang you by your tits, you little
bitch!"
Melinda 109 began crying more, and "Uncle
Soapy" was afraid he might have to get a mop. It should be my constitutional
right to shoot dope working here, he thought.
"I'm a big girl, and I'm so
ashamed." Melinda said, and she lay over the counter, pulling
up her skirt and edging down her panties.
Even Soapy had to admit she had a beautiful ass,
and he winced as Gridwell whacked the shit out of it with the bamboo, before
taking a bullwhip that Tamulevich handed him.
Gridwell hit Melinda 109 for nearly half an hour,
ignoring customers coming in, by passers, etc., and then he took the remote,
clicked her off, and threw her over his shoulder, her panties around her
ankles.
"You got her suitcase with the schoolgirl
outfit and the footie Dr.
After "they" left, Soapy had staggered
off to Methadone Maintenance, wondering if he'd lost his mind somehow.
TO BE CONTINUED
Now, Soapy stared at Melinda 109 as Webb kept babbling at her, holding her hand as if she was a real, live woman. Melinda had been in and out of The Little Shop a lot after Gridwell had reluctantly returned her...Most clients couldn't afford more than a half-hour visit, and Soapy would wince as he'd hear their agonized shrieks as Melinda caned them in the storeroom.
Now and again, someone would come up with two grand and take Melinda home for a week. The majority of the renters were submissive males, sometimes a sub woman, and Soapy would have to endure the sickening goodbyes, as the poor schlub would be on his knees, or rubbing his butt, as he told Melinda how much she'd meant to him.
Sometimes frustrated women would come in and go into the storeroom and there would be a sound of paddling and wailing, and then out they'd come, refreshed to fake orgasms for their husbands.
Soapy's favorite experience had been of the mother who had come in with a surly 19 year old, long dirty hair, concert T-shirt, the like.
While the mother and Tamulevich had gone to get Melinda 109, the kid had sold Soapy a switchblade and a dime bag and told him "I've broken five psychiatrists, two military academies, a nut ward and a Toughlove group. There's nothing the old bag can do to me, man."
Melinda had gone home with them for only forty-eight hours, and when the boy came back, he was wearing a crew cut and bow tie, and he handed Soapy a Get Saved tract.
The most irritating of Melinda's drop-in customers, it seemed were the Chastity Boys. There were at least ten guys who had been stupid enough to buy chastity belts, chastity tubes and cock cages through the Little Shop, and they'd given the keys to Melinda 109.
Then they'd get upset because she wouldn't release them? Or at least, not for long. Soapy's stomach still turned as he thought of Sterling Ostheimer, who was a regular Chastity Boy...
It had been a few
weeks before, and
"It's been so
long. I'm dyin' in here."
Soapy had led the bald submissive to the storeroom, and they'd gone in, and Soapy had turned Melinda 109 on. As her glass eyes opened, she'd smiled.
"Well now,
Melinda put an elbow next to a case of Jelly Pearl Multi-speed Vibrators and smiled fetchingly.
"I-I'm so
horny, Miss Melinda."
Soapy thought that
"Please, Miss
Melinda, it's been two weeks since I last could afford to see you, and
it's been 185 days since you let me..."
"Well, that's
the breaks, Sterling dear." Melinda said, and walked up and patted
At this point, Soapy had heard a customer, and he'd gone out of the storeroom and ten minutes later Melinda 109's strident voice had interrupted Soapy as he was swigging some Benadryl. "Clerk-boy, can you bring me one of the leather tawses?"
Soapy finished off the cough syrup, emitted a sigh, and ambled over to the tawse display. "Melinda, you want the Devil's Tail Tawse with the black hide and the steel reinforced handle?" Soapy moved over. "Then there's the flat studded tawse, the razor strop tawse, and the multi tail tawse."
"Soaperstein,
please bring the studded tawse." Soapy'd picked up the tawse and gone
back into the storeroom, where
"And you might
wash
But it was hard for Soapy not to. Picking up the chastity belt, filled with the groin sweat of a fortnight, he realized that he put up with a lot for twelve-fifty an hour. Kicking a crate of Remote Control Butterfly Obsession Vibrators, he left the storeroom and shut the door.
For about fifteen minutes there had been a lot of howling emitting from the storeroom, which Soapy had explained to customers as a disgruntled plumber. Knowing not what to do with the chastity device, Soapy had gone upstairs to the little apartment that Tamulevich had allowed him, and put it in the dishwasher, and when he'd come down, Melinda was once again summoning him.
Soapy looked in,
and had to look away again, as
Soapy reached into his vest and brought out his bones, and handed them to Melinda 109. "Now then, darling, I've whipped you, fucked you--"
Melinda had indeed removed her shorts and her big dildo had shot out from her hips--"and had you suck your dingleberries off my big dildo...and now it's time to see if you get to jerk off, or do you wait another two weeks?"
Melinda smiled.
"The poor baby
hasn't had a squirtie in several months, Soaperstein, and he's begged me to let
him jerk off. The last time I let him jerk off--do you remember? I put
electrical tape all over his cock and balls and ripped it off while he was
pounding his pud? And the time before that, I had Myron and Byron from
the Kennel downstairs paddle little
Melinda 109 smiled
at
Melinda threw the dice, and as she knew these were loaded dice that Soapy used to cheat the junior high kids across the street, they came up seven...as they always did.
"Go get the
chastity device, clerk-boy...
And of course Soapy
had had to go get the belt, while
Two weeks went by
and
"You're here a
week too soon?" Soapy said. "That's different." Soapy was in a
cheerful mood, as he had found a place to buy anisthesiological ether on the
Internet. Soapy was convinced that once his parole was up, he would move to
And the worst part,
Soapy thought, was that apparently
Before this
200 days, Soapy'd heard that
"Look, man, if you want, I'll saw that thing off for half of what your'e paying her" Soapy said confidentially. "You can go home and jerk off all you want, fuck who you want, not see that metallic bitch any more."
It carried on conversations with thirty different phone pervs, all jerking off while she insulted and berated them at $4.95 per minute.
Yes, good old
1-800-
Poor
This way,
"C-can I see
her?"
Oh yes, the Novicks. The door to the storeroom opened, and Melinda 109 came out, leading Milton and Hattie Novick, a middle aged couple on their knees with chain leashes.
In 109's other hand was a cane, and she was dressed in a leather PVC outfit, but her pets were not. Soapy closed his eyes, as he didn't like looking at older people without their clothes on.
"Melinda, the store is not the place for this." Soapy said. "You want to get the Board of Health in here like last week when you had that guy in the stocks? Get back in the storeroom or go downstairs to the Kennel where there's plenty of that going on anyway."
But Melinda 109 ignored him. WHACK! Melinda slashed the woman across her narrow shoulders. The woman cowered, her beehive hairdo shaking, as Melinda continued operations with the cane.
"
The cane fell again and again all over Hattie's back, her wrinkled buttocks and her thighs, and she attempted to scurry under a display of Chain Bras, but Melinda 109 dragged her back with the leash. WHACK! WHACK! SLASH!
"Hattie tried to deceive me by presenting someone elses's sentences--she had five thousand to do from last Friday night to this Friday--and I could tell the difference in the handwriting."
"I toleja Hattie" said Milton, her husband. "Yolanda's our nanny, and she keeps house, but she ain't no hand writin' forgery expert. But Miss Melinda, Hattie had a lot to do this week,
Hattie's a pahtner in her law foim, andy'know,we're raisin' our grandkids with Young Hattie in the nuthouse, so Hattie has to do Little League, head of the Vassar Reunion Committee, she's docent at the art gallery, the Hassadah, arrangin' the Lung Disease charity ball."
Melinda 109 let go
of
Melinda 109 grabbed Hattie by her high hair and dragged her up on her feet, using the other hand to slam the cane right across the wrinkled breasts with perfect precision. THWACK! WHACK! Hattie began to weep.
"What do you think you're doing?" Melinda shook Hattie by her hair, and the old woman's lower plate fell on the floor and cracked.
"You promised me you'd do my sentences, five thousand times "MELINDA 109 IS MY REASON FOR LIVING." and now I discover that duplicity is your way of handling things!"
Suddenly Melinda threw Hattie over a garter belt rack and began whacking her bottom with the cane until Hattie began crying. "Now then! You can't have your chastity device off for six more weeks, and it's ten thousand sentences by next Monday, or I let you go...and you can find another domme."
Hattie looked with haunted eyes at Melinda. "No, please, Miss 109...you're the best domme we've ever had...you're my everything!"
"Please, Melinda, don't reject me..."Hattie begged. "I'll do better with the lines, the sentences, they just take so much time. And I really did do two hundred and fifty of them before I gave up, you know?"
Melinda 109 laughed contemptuously, and walked away from the begging slave-woman, to pick up a scourge from a back shelf. "Do you like this, Hattie?" Melinda said as she swung the scourge in Hattie's face. "This is called the Implorer."
Soapy licked his lips as he looked at the Implorer, a short whip constructed from five leather thongs, about eighteen inches long, connected to a foot long wooden handle.
The leather thongs were knotted with small sharp pieces of metal, punctuating the leather strap. At the tip of each leather thong was a sharp hook.
Thank God these idiots sign an agreement not to sue this place, Soapy thought, but then he recalled the Serena Zebrowski case, when Melinda 109 went crazy and had to be shot down by the police, and he wondered.
Still, Soapy moved
fast for a heroin addled manager, and he shut the door and pulled down the
curtains.
Soapy wanted to
hear no more, but
" Another time Melinda 109 hit me with a length of braided rope that she'd dipped in tar. And you know about her pizzle--"
Soapy grunted. Melinda 109's pizzle was a leather thing made originally from a bull's penis, stretched with weights, salted and dried to make a highly vicious lasher.
"--but I've
never gotten a whipping from anything like that Implorer scourge dealie."
As Melinda approached the trembling Hattie, her voice got rather soft. "You poor baby." Melinda 109 crooned, as she stroked Hattie's hair. "You have too much to do to tend to my punishment lines, and I'm so unfair to you, is that right? You are a busy woman, a full time tax lawyer, with your grandkids and your social obligations, and Melinda's being so unfair to you, darling."
Hattie smiled. "Y-yes, and we're going on a cruise next month, Miltie and me,and--"
Melinda 109 moved her metal hand to her mouth. "A cruise? Of course you don't have time to do a bunch of tiresome old lines for poor android me...oh, I can't believe I've been so inconsiderate--"
"You're not so bad, Miss Melinda you're--" Suddenly, Hattie realized she'd fallen in the trap.
"I'm not so bad? I'M NOT SO BAD? YOU LITTLE SCUMBAG!" Melinda kicked Hattie in the stomach with all of her mechanical strength and swung the Implorer against the older woman's back.
As the lash fell, Soapy watched, nauseated as two of the Implorer's the hooks caught Hattie's back. "Oops, the Implorer is stuck, imagine that." Melinda 109 said, in her Shirley Temple voice. "I guess I have to pull a little harder."
"N-no please, I'll untangle it--" Hattie screeched, but Melinda pulled hard and the hooks ripped the skin from Hattie's back and she screamed as the blood spurted.
"Well, will
you look at that, Soaperstein, and you too,
"Now lie on your back, so the Implorer can do some dancing on your pathetic globules...the saddest boobs this robot's ever seen." Melinda said in a high tone. "They're not that sensitive are they, Hattie? After all, you have gone through the change, right?"
"No, not my boobs, please." Hattie said, clutching herself. "Please, oh, please, Miss Melinda...not..." Suddenly Melinda reached down and smacked Hattie hard in the face, then throwing her on her back.
The Implorer landed five times across the sagging breasts, and then did a few swipes between Hatties unfortunately shaved pubis...
Finally Melinda
tossed the Implorer onto the floor. "Something else for you to wash later,
clerk-boy, along with
"Your poor breasts, was I too hard on them with the Implorer, Hattie?" Melinda asked tenderly as she began massaging and toying with Hattie's old, wrinkled breasts.
Suddenly, Soapy's eyes blinked as he noticed that Melinda's forefinger and middle finger on her right hand were turning red-hot, and then Hattie began screaming.
"Oh, it hurts, you're burning me!" Hattie was now howling as Melinda's fingers were all bright red now, and burning lines on her breasts.
"Yes, darling, Professor Jonathan Tamulevich did some improvements on me when he had me last, and now I can light cigarettes with my forefinger, or just use it to burn tattoos into your pathetic boobs...what fun it'll be!"
As Soapy watched in
revulsion, and
"I may decide to write my name on your stomach, darling, you know I can do tattoos" Melinda said, kneeling over Hattie's prone form. "Or would you prefer cold?" Suddenly Melinda's forefinger went from red to very white, and Hattie then bounced away,
"Oh, it's freezing!" Hattie screamed.
Melinda beamed as she said..."The poor thing just doesn't know what she wants, does she, Soaperstein?"
"Get on your knees, you menopausal nightmare!" Melinda then said, and Hattie got up on her knees, obviously aching in pain.
Melinda clicked
something, and
Hattie shook her head, but a cuff to the side caused Hattie to move her head to the long, vibrating pink plastic tool. Immediately Melinda 109 grabbed Hattie's ears and jammed her head on the dildo/vibrator.
Melinda 109 began pushing the huge tool in and out of Hattie's mouth, using Hattie's ears for leverage. "What fun this is!" Melinda crooned. "Think, since her teeth are on the floor, I'm getting a nice gumming of a blowjob...fellatio is such fun!"
Suddenly, Hattie began to gag horribly. "Hattie, are you having a problem?" Melinda 109 said innocently. Hattie tried to pull her head off the dildo, but Melinda 109 held her tight.
"Soaperstein, I think Melinda just discovered that one of the new alterations Dr. Jonathan made on me is the dog-poop receptacle...that she's getting the first shit orgasm in her mouth of her life!" Melinda laughed loudly, and Soapy hurled into the wastebasket.
Suddenly brown dung came oozing out of Hattie's mouth, and finally Melinda allowed Hattie to break free. "Now don't spit, swallow...Momma don't like a spitter." Melinda 109 said, as she grabbed Hattie's neck and turned her head upwards...finally the slave woman swallowed, tears streaming down her face.
"I think someone has learned her lesson!" Melinda said in a decidedly cheery tone.
Tears welled in her eyes, but Melinda backhanded her and after the old woman scooped up her dentures, she scurried back to the storeroom, leash bouncing behind her, where her husband was emitting his last moan.
Melinda looked at
"See you next
week, and remember those sentences." Melinda nodded, and the old couple
left. Melinda 109 turned and gave
Soon, Soapy was
summoned by Melinda, and when he got in, he saw
This while
Melinda, perched on a case of Red Hogtie Restraint Rings, was teasing
Soapy watched
. When Soapy came
back downstairs, Melinda had
"It's so hard
Miss Melinda,
"At home it's so difficult to be chaste. My wife I can't let her se me naked because of the chastity belt, and night after night, watching those TV shows with hot women in them like the "Grey's Anatomy" and the "Desperate Housewives"..
".and then
during the day when I'm to and from work, I see all the young secretaries and
co-ed college girls in their miniskirts, and I can't get any relief."
Melinda 109
continued to pull and torture
"Oh, Miss Melinda, I'd hate for anyone else to hear this but I used to jerk off in Momma's bathroom when I was a boy, going through Momma's panty hamper and sniffing her panties while I put mousetraps on my nipples, and knelt on my sister's toy jacks to be a masochist, even when I was young, and I wore lipstick, and Momma caught me, and made me walk around the block in a girl's white party dress and all my friends laughed at me."
Soapy was laughing cruelly until Miss Melinda looked up at him and said, in Soapy's voice on a telephone: "I did twenty-seven months out of a nickel-dime in that joint, and I smuggled so much smack onto Cellblock 9 that I'd be indicted for it even today, man..."
After this, Soapy stopped laughing and returned to a look of hostility.
"This poor baby, Soaperstein, you should hear him." Melinda said mockingly. "He doesn't understand why I won't let him cum, the little faggot. Who the fuck does he think he is, ordering me around?"
"Shut up, you
little queer. You're not cumming until I say you can, and it may be in 20010,
so shut your fat bald little face, understand?" Melinda had then grabbed
Melinda had crooked a finger and whispered in Soapy's ear, and Soapy had whispered back, arguing, but the robot had been insistent.
So Soapy left the Little Shop, putting the "Back in Fifteen Minutes" sign up on the door, and he'd then gone down to the River Street Mission, bringing back three homeless black men, who staggered happily, carrying bottles of Muscatel that Soapy had purchased with a ten spot that Melinda 109 had slipped him.
What had followed? Well, Sterling was waiting on his knees in the storeroom, in full makeup and his disgusting, fat body encased in a too-small corset...and Sterling's lips were rouged, and a bright red ribbon had been pasted to Sterling's bald pate.
"You'll have
to pay me for this one." one of the bums whispered to Soapy, but they'd
gone in, and had their schlongs sucked...and finally, Soapy had witnessed
Now, as Judge Webb was about to take Melinda 109 home, Soapy was thinking. Soapy looked askance at Melinda, but he also was staring out of the corner of his eye at Judge Webb Haskins.
Although Soapy had never been up before Judge Haskins (one of the few judges he hadn't), Soapy's best friend, Needles Vesuvio was, a week or so hence...and Needles, already a three-time loser, was in grave danger of being sentenced as a habitual criminal, which meant they'd throw away the key!
Soapy himself had done seven years and eight months of a habitual sentence, and had only gotten out because of the accursed needs of the Little Shop owner...could Melinda 109 and the Little Shop assist in persuading "Hang Em High" Haskins into being a bit lenient?
Soapy had had a conversation with Melinda a week before. He'd turned her on, but disconnected her legs temporarily so she couldn't grab him and do weird shit. He'd not expected to get through to a robot--after all, they don't need money, you can't bribe them...but it turned out that Melinda wanted something...
"I want my freedom, Soaperstein." she'd said, as Soapy had seated himself on a box of Head Harness Breather Ball Gags. "When I was visiting Gridwell, he left me on to clean the house while he was out doing whatever horrific things he does for a living, and I began leaving the house, surreptitiously, sometimes taking an extra power pack so I could get around...and I met someone who I really connect with...It really means something."
Soapy had wondered if Melinda was dating a juke box or something, but he knew better than to make smart remarks. He'd leaned his chin on his wrist and looked at her, as she'd gone on.
"You see, clerk-boy, when Jonathan Tamulevich constructed me, he didn't have the technology to quite make a brain, so he had to use the limbic system of his younger sister, who has been in a coma for many years."
"What's a limbic system?" asked Soapy suspiciously. "It sounds like one of them dances."
"Well humans three cerebral units in a single brain. "Melinda 109 lectured "The primitive one is responsible for self preservation. It is there that the mechanisms of aggression and repetitive behavior are developed. It is there that occur the instinctive reactions of the so-called reflex arcs and the commands which allow some involuntary actions and the control of certain visceral functions (cardiac, pulmonary, intestinal, etc), indispensable to the preservation of life..." As Melinda 109 went on, Soapy lost focus, as he'd never been much into science if it didn't involve making crystal meth.
When he focused again, Melinda was finishing up. "...The entirety of these structures, that, years later would receive the name of "limbic system. Which commands certain behaviors that are necessary for the survival of all mammals. It gives rise and modulates specific functions that allow the animal to distinguish between the agreeable and the disagreeable.
Here specific affective functions are developed, ludic behaviors such as wrath, fright, passion, love, hate, joy and sadness, are mammalian inventions, originated in the limbic system."
Melinda 109 had paused. "You see, clerk-boy, love
doesn't come from the heart...it comes from the brain. And since I have a human
brain, fed as it is by android mechanisms...
I've fallen in love with one of your kind, and he's got no interest in S&M...so maybe you can help me, and I can help your friend Needles...maybe. I'm being sent back to Dr. Jonathan for a tune-up so I can gauge what Judge Haskin's submissive needs are, but I'll be back in a week, and we can probably help each other."
"I hope so, Melinda" Soapy said distressedly. "Because not only do Needles and I go back twenty-five years, shooting and selling dope, robbin' drugstores, an' in and out of rehabs and prison but..." Soapy paused
"Yes?" Melinda 109 had asked gently.
"But while
I was inside the last time, Needles became my common-law son-in-law, and
my daughter
Soapy had never imagined an android could expel a snort of disgust!
Today, Soapy hoped that Melinda remembered and would work with him on "swaying" Judge Haskins, who looked as if he would eat from Melinda 109's hand.
For Webb Haskins, the Melinda experience was just marvelous! The chubby little judge couldn't believe it. But, Nana Haskins had mustered out a good deal of inheritance money to their children and grandchildren, as they would soon be moving her to a nursing home, and God knows those people would be scarfing up much of her capital. Ninety thousand dollars was quite a bit of moolah for Webb to be forking over anyway--he'd had his eye on a Ferrari...but Melinda 109 would be worth it.
As he signed the final forms with the clerk, Soaperstein, to take Melinda 109 home with him, Webb thought of the previous sessions he'd had with Melinda, all in the Little Shop storeroom. Bent over a gross of Electro Stimulation Adhesive Pads, Melinda had tanned Webb's little buttocks on four different occasions
Melinda had also once had electro-shocked Webb's tongue as he'd gone down on her...but what would it be like in the long run? Living together. Living with a real DOMME. Not some fat pig who couldn't get laid except at Science Fiction conventions, who stuffed herself in a leather halter to attend the local D/S group, but a gorgeous dominant woman out of Webb's dreams, though of course she wasn't um, real.
"Shall we go, Webb?" Melinda interrupted Webb's reverie, and her red lips smiled smartly as she offered him her arm. Swelling with pleasure, Webb took Melinda's arm and nodding sluggishly at the manager, Soaperstein, he escorted Melinda out.
"You know of course, Webb, that if you want to save energy you can--sigh--turn me off and throw me in the trunk, though I'd rather ride with you in the front seat!" Melinda 109 gave Webb a questioning glance, but Webb shook his head happily. "No of course not, Miss Melinda. Please get in the passenger seat."
Webb opened the door, and Melinda stepped into Webb's BMW, smiling, and he shut the door and went around to the other side, and a girl on a bike pointed at Webb, screaming to her teenage friend. "Look, that old guy's got a boner!"
They didn't speak too much in the car on the ride home, though Melinda made appropriate remarks about how nice Webb's neighborhood was. "My last home visit was in a more um, rural area...with a woman who liked to pretend I was her Brownie and she was my Scoutmistress...it was not as nice as this neighborhood...not at all!"
Finally, they pulled into Webb's driveway, and Webb hauled in Melinda's generator, which he put in his spare room. According to Soaperstein's instructions, Webb was to attach Melinda in the evenings, when Webb was done with her, or perhaps during the day while Webb was at court.
Webb also put Melinda's little bag of outfits in her room, and then came into the living room, where Melinda was sitting adorably on the couch, her long legs crossed, making her skirt look as if it was sneaking up to her hips.
And look at those high heels! Melinda 109 must be in pain clicking around on them, they're so high...but of course she isn't in pain. Webb's ex-wife always complained about wearing high heels, and preferred tennis shoes. Glynnis only agreed to wear high heels when she was reclining for sex...Webb didn't miss her, that's for sure. Look at Melinda!
But Melinda was tapping her thick hairbrush against her knee. My God it's one of those steel backed military hairbrushes.Wait, we weren't going to do it today, were we? Webb had hoped for a getting-to-know-you period, as he'd taken the week off from work. He thought they could get acquainted, and maybe see what other services Miss Melinda might have for him...
Webb walked up to Melinda 109 and smiled. "You've gotten yourself settled in, have you?" Look at her breasts riding so high in the snug turtleneck, her blonde curls nestled around her shoulders. It was almost unbelievable that such a beautiful woman could actually be synthetic.
Melinda 109 smiled at him with rosebud lips wet with fire-engine red lipstick that never wore off. Webb felt his erection pushing against his suit, and he began pacing nervously in front of 109, telling her about the house. "I know you don't eat, but if you like, the kitchen is downstairs, and there's my library down the hall, and I don't ordinarily live with others..."
Melinda put a finger to her lips, and Webb stopped talking and pacing. "Webb, darling. Why don't you take off that ridiculous three piece suit, and come back to me in your tightie whities." Melinda tapped the hairbrush on her palm, and Webb's mouth became dry.
Three days later, Webb was lying on his bed, sobbing into his hands, his jockey shorts down to his knees, red butt on display. Why is she so mean to me? Webb asked himself as he cried and cried. He couldn't believe he was acting this way. Forty-six years old!
But that first night, Webb had thought there would be lots of different stuff between himself and Melinda, he wasn't sure what, but Melinda had taken Webb's shorts down and pulled him over her knee and spanked him HARD, she had the arm strength of a twenty-one year old Yankees pitcher.
Melinda 109 had spanked Webb hard and sent him crying to bed, at five-thirty in the afternoon. When Webb had come out timidly at seven to see what was up, it happened again!
Melinda had grabbed him again and given him another hard spanking, this time using her cane. "And when I tell you to go to bed, you STAY in bed, young man!" she'd thundered.
And Melinda's ear was acute, and she'd heard Webb touching his tumescent cock about eight-forty-five and she'd rushed in, now clad in an alluring pink body stocking and pasties...but no fun for Webb!
No sir, she'd sat down on the bed after dragging him out by the ear, and she'd pulled down his pajama bottoms and taken her slipper off...and that slipper must've been packed with lead, like some of the blackjacks that Webb had seen introduced in evidence in court.
Melinda had beaten Webb's butt with the slipper, and then tied his hands behind his back for the rest of the night "So you won't be impure."
The next day, Webb had been awakened at six a.m. by
Melinda’s iron fingers twisting his ear at six in the morning. “This place is a
shit-hole” Melinda 109 thundered, dragging Webb out of bed. “You’re going to
clean it up!” Melinda was dressed that day in a aquamarine tube top and leather
shorts and high heels, and the cane was in her hand, tapping away.
“I…I have a maid…” Webb protested. WHACK! WHACK! Melinda had
thrown Webb across a hassock and slashed his buttocks nine or ten times.
Webb’s hands were
still tied behind him from the night before, and he kept wriggling, finally
falling to the floor, and trying to crawl away, and Melinda landed the cane
across his shoulders, his back, and his butt, again and again. Finally, she’d
untied his wrists.
“If you want breakfast, and I’m sure you’re hungry, you’re
going to get to work on the living room. First you’ll get the Venitian blinds
down and wash them, I’ll show you how. Polish the furniture… You’ll dust and
vacuum all the corners and crevices, and wash the curtains and mop the floors,
and vacuum the carpet by God. Get to it!”
It had been a horrible day, Melinda had gotten Webb to clean
and scrub every room in the house. She'd given him split pea soup and a crust
of bread that she'd forced him to eat on his knees in the middle of the
afternoon, and more work followed. They’d had some sort of argument when he was
defrosting the refrigerator.
So then Melinda had thrown Webb into the back yard and come
out and cut a thorny branch from one of Glynnis’s neglected rose bushes and
thrashed Webb until he’d sobbed so loudly that neighbors had looked over the
fence.
By that time, Melinda’s automatic penis had shot through her
shorts and she’d butt-fucked Webb over the picnic table. Melinda had then taken
the sobbing judge into his tool shed and locked the door, and not come back
until nightfall, when she'd forced him to finish his chores before binding him
to his bed.
Then Melinda 109 had left and come back wearing a silver
bikini, and she'd stroked and played with Webb's struggling cock for an hour,
while gently kissing his ear and telling him how "special" he
was.
At one point, a tiny pinwheel with metal spikes had shot out
of Melinda's forefinger and she'd run it up and down Webb's cock and balls
until he'd begged to cum, and then, sadly, Melinda had slapped Webb and left
him bound for the night.
The next day Melinda had put Webb in diapers and tied a
bonnet around his neck, ignoring his protestations of having a football party.
When Webb's friends showed up for the game, Melinda had made poor Judge Haskins
sit on the floor in his diaper and bonnet while his friends ate chips and drank
beer, laughing at him...
Melinda had dressed up in a cocktail uniform, calling
herself "Mindy" and had blown all Webb's friends as they enjoyed the
Dolphins-Redskins game. "Don't worry, Webb" Drayton Geisbuhler,
editor of the local paper had said as he was leaving. "I wouldn't write
anything about this, only because no one would believe Hang-Em-High Haskins
could subject himself to this!"
That evening, Webb had told Melinda he couldn't imagine worse
behavior on her part, and so she'd invited the Little Shop negroes, Myron,
Byron, Plato and Cato over and Webb had learned to suck cocks himself!
And now it was Webb's third day with Melinda 109, and she'd
given him yet another whipping, and here he was lying on the bed, his
pants down, and her strop was on the chair next to the bed...and he couldn't
stand it! What would happen next?
THE MELINDA 109
PART 3
Idell pulled up to the corner in his elderly Nissan Sentra. Where was Jessamyn? She
looked so different now.
Idell Grooms, a black scholarship student at the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology had fallen in love with the shy, homely
girl he'd met playing Dungeons & Dragons at the Youth Mensa
Club.
Five years later, just before the
wedding, the accident had happened, and Jess had gone into a coma.
Idell
had thought he'd lost love forever--until one day a tall blonde android had
knocked at his door--it was bizarre! Jessamyn's mind
in a gorgeous artificial body!
"I still want to marry you, Idell, but we have to be careful...Jonathan, my brother
doesn't know that the brain he put in this body still has the memory, and he
could eradicate my memory in one of his tune-ups."
They would have to run away--and
not today! So Idell waited.
A block away, Melinda 109 walked
briskly to meet her old boyfriend. God, Idell was
more of a man than any of these pathetic sadomasochists she'd had to deal with,
her brain trapped in a robot's body.
She remembered when Idell had proposed to her, they'd both been counselors at a
computer camp, and as the little geeks had been playing with their calculators
around the campfire, he'd looked in her eyes and she'd melted.
And then the accident had come, her own fault, too many beers behind the wheel, and the
coma, and then being rebuilt into a dominant android! Too weird to be believed!
Before
Melinda 109 left the house for the last time,she'd tied poor Webb down...it had been one helluva day...actually 45 helluva
days. In the six weeks that Melinda had been with Webb, she'd whipped him,
beaten him, tortured him, and rubbed him with hot peppers.
In Webb’s second
week, Melinda had had a technician come in and install ten day old rotting
dead trout in her "vagina", and when Webb came home, she'd ordered
him to give her a long, long, lick job....
Also in the second week, Melinda
had invited Drayton Geisbuhler, the newspaper editor
and poker buddy of Webb over, and she'd enjoyed fucking and sucking Drayton
(using her own soft mouth) while making poor Webb watch while bound and being
butt-fucked by Myron and Plato, who visited from the Little Shop.
Later, Drayton and Myron had
inserted chili peppers into poor Webb's anus, opening it up a bit for the ball
bearings and bowling pins that were to follow. "My God, Webb now has
the asshole of a young punk at
for the record that indeed a Phillips screwdriver could be
inserted in the urethra of Webb's penis.
But tonight she'd put Webb through
the Cranium. Telling Webb that she was going to give him a blowjob for his good
efforts to be a slave boy, Melinda had bound him and blindfolded him, and then
wheeled the Cranium, (delivered by Myron and Byron that morning) to the bed.
The Cranium was a large, grayish
steel box, with a pair of lips in the middle. The box was supported by a crane
and connected with a pipe to another larger steel box (on wheels) that sat on
the floor.
"Now
I'm going to give you a three hour blowjob, darling...and I don't want you to
try to move away, because it's not going to be possible!" Melinda said.
Webb, bound and
blindfolded, completely ignorant of the Cranium, smiled happily.
Melinda
pulled a lever, and the Cranium bent over and the lips on the box grabbed
Webb's penis and began slurping him softly. "Oh, Miss Melinda, how
wonderful this feels" Webb said, and lay back, enjoying himself.
Melinda
smiled, and left the room.
Before
she walked out of Webb's house, she heard his first scream of anguish, and
grinned even wider.
Ingeniously, the Cranium's lower
box, the one on wheels, had several insect-friendly compartments, as well as a
small aquarium.
Webb could not even hear it,
when the pipe connecting the Cranium and the lower box sucked the contents of
the insect-friendly compartments into the roomy inside of the Cranium.
First the Cranium pushed out a
rubber and felt Tongue, with little vibrating buttons attached. Webb felt it
humming slowly for about thirty seconds, running up and down Webb’s hard cock.
The sides of the Cranium had
squirted lubricant, which made Webb’s cock hard and greasy.
One vibrating button found Webb’s frenum and began buzzing against it faster and faster. Webb
moaned and tried to push his dick harder against the vibrating button.
Then the button stopped vibrating
suddenly. For about fifteen seconds it stopped before buzzing slowly again, and
Webb began moaning and his dick felt the massage of the tiny button.
The button vibrated faster and
faster, and Webb felt as if the Tongue was getting bigger and bigger around his
cock.
Then the button went down a bit,
and began pulsing, up and down and over the frenum.
The stimulation was slower and
gradually growing. Melinda had left the program on the Cranium to massage on
and off for nearly forty-five minutes.
Five minutes off, five minutes at
a medium speed, then three minutes off, and then five minutes on an intense
speed, but not so intense so that Webb could have cum.
At one point, as Webb rubbed
against the Cranium Tongue, the Tongue pulled back and a Sandpaper Tongue shot
out and rubbed furiously over Webb’s cock so that he screamed in pain, but then
the soothing Vibrating Tongue returned.
Webb tried everything to cum,
raising his hips, moving around, but the bonds were too tight, and of course
the blindfold was on, otherwise Webb might well have lost his erection if he’d
seen the ugly gray box (with lips) that was sucking him.
Then Webb had felt the Tongue
receding and his penis being squirted by some more inner juice as the
Cranium sucked him...he assumed it was Melinda 109's saliva, though of course
robot's don't make saliva.
Actually, his penis was being
doused in Lickum (trademark), an invention of
Professor Jonathan Tamuleviches.
Lickum (trademark) was a combination of sugar water, honey and
some other congealed sweets, and as the inhabitants of the insect-friendly
compartments entered the Cranium, they discovered to their joy, that there was
some sort of meaty hotdog thing that was nutritious
Professor Jonathan and his
family had gone on a trip to the Australian rainforests and had brought,
somewhat surreptitiously, back some emigrants unknown to the U.S. Fish and
Wildlife Services.
These little fellas had found happy lodgings in Professor Jonathan’s
lab, and now in the Cranium, where they were going to get one hell of a good
time!
Professor Jonathan had also hoped
to instill the Australian Irukandji jellyfish, but
the Little Shop's legal department had mentioned concerns that the bites might
be fatal, so he'd reluctantly held those back.
But, even without the Irukandji Jellyfish, there was quite a welcoming committee!
The first group
were bloodsucking leeches, which normally traveled through water, until
they found an unfortunate animal or human to attach their mouth to, before
pulling forward and attaching their tail suckers to the fleshy surface. And
then they suck blood!
When the leeches that were inhabiting the Cranium were sucked through, riding on a thin
stream of swamp water, eleven of the twelve that Professor Jonathan had
inserted (one died, alas, poor adjustment) landed on Webb’s penis.
Then the insects attacked
enthusiastically! Following the leeches came spiders, scorpions, centipedes,
wasps, hairy caterpillars
fire ants, ticks, with predictable results, as well as some
rather exotic Australian juvenile scrub-itch mites that like to attach
themselves in skin folds…
Perhaps the only real problem that
these various insects had was that they had to encounter each other (they’d all
been in species-specific compartments in the Lower Box…) and that there was so
little territory of the meaty, sweet thing to fight over!
So the fire ants fought the mites,
and so on, and whenever they needed sustenance, they tried to edge by the
bloodsucking leeches to get a bite or two from the long pink thing that they’d
discovered.
To say that Webb was in
consternation would be an understatement. What the hell had happened?
What could Melinda’s teeth be
doing to his poor dick to bring it such intense anguish and pain?
Webb howled and screamed, and
tried desperately to pull his dick away from what he thought was Melinda 109’s
mouth, but it seemed to hold fast.
After about five minutes of the
insect Oktoberfest, a gallon of iodine shot out of the roof of the Cranium’s
mouth, killing all the insects and leeches.
This was also quite painful to
Webb, but then he felt intense peace, as the biting and chewing ceased.
Suddenly the folds of the
Cranium’s mouth became even softer, and the sucking became intensely erotic,
and once again, Webb was in heaven…oh it felt so good!
The Cranium sucked faster and
harder until Webb was about to have an orgasm…
And then Webb’s penis was once
more engulfed in Lickum (trademark) and then a second
compartment was opened, and the hornet’s nest inside was suddenly rattled…
And UP they went through the pipe
to give Webb a bit of action!
The stinging was absolutely
hellish, but at least there was not a follow-up of further iodine.
No, the hornets were soon drowned
by water being sucked through the aquarium section of the Lower Box, and the
Piranhas that came through the pipe certainly did give Webb perspective to his
earlier tortures.
Before Webb could die of a heart
attack, of course the Piranhas had to die as well, which had made Professor
Jonathan Tamulevich sad
But on the other hand, though the
fish were expensive, and had been prepped on hamburger for some time to get
them excited for eating bits of Webb’s penis…
$90,000 for the rental of Melinda
109 certainly created a financial atmosphere for purchasing more Piranhas, eh?
Melinda had had to make a pit stop
to visit several clients upon Soapy's behest, before
going to meet Idell...
She would be keeping the cash this
time..and well deserving it!
Her first trip was to a local
gymnasium, where her steady weekly client, Carlo Dominguez, waited.
It was quiet in Zukoski's Gym when Melinda 109 came in, nodding as she did
to Carlo Dominguez, former state bantamweight champion.
"Good evening, Carlo."
Melinda smiled at the sullen thirty-eight year old trainer, who had once
commanded regular purses of one to five thousand dollars per bout.
Before age 19, Carlo
had won three National Golden Gloves titles, two AAU championships and the
1975 Pan-American Games crown, as well as winning the WBC Welterweight
championship.
He had also had three covers
from "Ring" Magazine before he'd retired.
Now, along with a regular
salary from the gym, Carlo got a royalty from "Duckin'
Dominguez" boxing instruction tapes, which allowed him to hire an hour
with the beautiful young Melinda.
Melinda 109 had changed in the
women's lavatory and was now in a simple but revealing tank top and tight black
shorts, complete with fishnet stockings and high heels.
As she was to be boxing, some experts might
have advised our android that heels were not the best way to keep one's
balance, but Melinda 109 had her own way of doing things.
Carlo waved the other men in the
gym out, a couple wanted to stay and watch the match, but as "Duckin" Dominguez narrowed his eyes, all the men left
quickly.
Before
Carlo had been a boxing sensation, he'd been a gang lord in the
"So you ready for me,
slut-cake?" Carlo asked with a grin. He came out to the middle of the ring
in a crouch. Melinda, who had no protection whatsoever
stepped daintily up.
“I hope it goes better for you
than the last time, Carlo.” Melinda said, with a smile. “Do you mind if I take
this off?” Carlo’s eyes goggled as Melinda removed the tank top, revealing her
full breasts in a frilly bra.
“Well come on, you little slug.”
Carlo snarled. He laughed as the diminutive blonde stepped up a bit
uncertainly, and jogged in swinging. At first Melinda 109 and Carlo began
circling each other.
“You’re gettin’
slow, there, Melinda.” Carlo laughed, attempting a jab at Melinda’s chin.
Melinda danced away a fraction of an inch too soon, stinging Carlo with a light
left to the jaw.
Carlo came out again, landing a
right against Melinda’s shoulder, and then Melinda landed a left-right, dancing
back and then hitting a solid left jab to Carlo’s body.
Carlo pulled back landing a
solid right to Melinda’s jaw and a good left jab.
“You’ll have to do better than
that, Carlo.” Melinda said, and as her eyes lowered, she noticed the all too
present erection bulging in Carlo’s red shorts.
Melinda danced back, landing a
strong uppercut to Carlo’s left eye, causing Carlo to dance back and then
punching Melinda’s neck with a straight right jab.
Carlo then landed a big right to
Melinda’s head and then a left jab.
Melinda bounced back against the
ropes, and if anyone had seen the five foot seven girl fighting the six foot
two boxer, they’d have thought it was curtains, had they not known of Melinda’s
makeup.
Melinda started in with a good
right, Carlo responding with a right hand uppercut to Melinda’s chin.
Carlo landed a big right
hand and then a good uppercut, and Melinda fell back.
“You see, bitch?” Carlo said happily. “Not that easy, eh?”
“What a good sport you are”
Melinda 109 said with a smile, and suddenly darted forth. She landed a solid
left hook into Carlo’s chest, following it up with a flurry of punches to
Carlo’s head and body.
Carlo swung at Melinda but she
ducked and laughed, and as Carlo was distracted by her swaying breasts, Melinda
knocked him down.
Carlo lay dazed for a moment, and
Melinda lifted her leg and began peeing through her shorts onto his face, until
he became enraged.
Finally Carlo jumped back up and
ran at Melinda, taking one on the chin from the slender robot.
Suddenly, Carlo elbowed Melinda
right in the left breast, a move that would have felled any mortal woman, but
Melinda then rattled Carlo with a massive uppercut, then throwing a series of
rights and lefts.
Within a matter of two minutes
into the fight, Carlo’s left eye was developing a mouse.
This was not helped when Melinda
ripped a double left hook into Carlo’s chest and neck.
Melinda moved in toe to toe with Carlo, bobbing, weaving
and gradually moving inside.
Carlo was now throwing wildly, and Melinda’s blonde curls
bounced as she ducked, smiling.
Suddenly,
she caught Carlo hard in the mid section with a left uppercut, letting to of
the left trigger, and catching Carlo right in the mouth with a right hook, then
a left, then a right.
Melinda
109 moved back, jabbing to keep Carlo from advancing, then moving in again. She
slammed Carlo with haymaker in the face, jumping back and taunting Carlo,
parrying his jabs.
Carlo jabbed at Melinda, she blocked, he jabbed again and
missed and she opened up, watching Carlo moving close gritting his teeth, his
guard up.
But he was sluggish at this point, and Melinda
easily pushed his arms away.
Melinda jabbed to Carlo’s head, jabbed to his body, and
then uppercutted his right eye. Suddenly as Carlo lunged at Melinda, she jumped
forth and kicked him in the balls.
“No
fair bitch!” Carlo screamed, and Melinda laughed lightly, watching the boxer
fall to the floor, weeping bitterly.
“Fairness
has nothing to do with it…now give me my five hundred dollars before you
masturbate please.”
But it was too late, Carlo spooged in one hand as he held
up the greenbacks with the other!
Melinda changed again in the lavatory, and took a cab to
her next stop, a nice mansion in one of Concord's wealthier neighborhoods.
It would only be a forty-five minute visit...
But what a forty-five minutes it
was!
Inside the mansion, trouble was
already brewiug.
“You are always disappointing me!” Mother
yelled at Esmeralda. SLAP! The fat girl’s cheek took a heavy whack from her
mother’s palm.
“I can’t believe what a useless,
fat, ugly slob you are.” Mother’s gray bouffant hairdo shook as she lectured
her overweight spinster daughter.
“I just don’t understand it.
A thirty-eight year old woman with a M.B.A.
Yet, you dress like a ragamuffin,
you let the servants bully you, you’re fat, and men think you’re useless, and
you’ve not been promoted in that firm you work at. You make me ill!”
Mother’s heavy bosom shook. “I
have a good mind not to go play bridge tonight after all.”
Oh, no. “Mother, you always play
bridge on Thursday nights.” Esmie said hurriedly.
“You’re always telling me that’s the only night you can get away from me.” Esmie looked at the floor. “Because I
make you nauseous. You’ve been telling me that since I was a child.”
Esmeralda thought of the time that
Mother had kindly given her a cooking lesson, and Esmie
dropped rice on the floor, and Mother had made her kneel on the rice for
twenty-five minutes, and denied her rice in her meal that night….she was
nauseating!
“You’re right, Esmeralda, and I am
going out to play bridge. You can waste your time as you always do, watching
those ridiculous soap operas I must tape for you when you’re at work…you make
me ill.”
Mother left twenty minutes later,
and Esmeralda, still teary,
dismissed the servants in wait for her guest, Melinda 109.
“You want me to leave early?”
Consuelo, the upstairs maid snarled. “What, you have a boyfriend, Miss
Esmeralda, you got to be kidding Consuelo.”
The maid laughed harshly with the
departing cook, and Esmeralda smiled weakly…
Esmie didn’t have the nerve to tell the servants to go to hell,
but fortunately they left, after Consuelo blackmailed $50 out of Esmie by threatening to tell Mother about Esmie’s lesbian porn magazines.
Finally, though, Esmeralda waited
for the doorbell to chime with her visitor’s arrival.
And the door chimed! Esmeralda
pulled a black turtleneck over her huge bulk, and marched to the door
determinedly.
She opened it, and there was
Melinda 109, dressed in a button down shirt and plaid schoolgirl skirt and knee
socks and Mary Janes.
Melinda’s long blond hair was tied
in two ponytails on the sides of her head, and she looked abashed.
“Why are you so late?” Esmie demanded, gritting her teeth at Melinda 109. As
she stepped closer, Esmeralda dropped twentyfive
twenties into Melinda's open purse. Mother always checked Esmie's Visa bills intensely, so cash was the best thing.
“ Mindy, do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been waiting
for you?” Esmie reached out and grabbed Melinda 109
by the shoulder and dragged her into the house.
In a small voice, Melinda 109 said
“Auntie Esmeralda, I’m sorry, I was late because a
teacher wanted to talk to me after school.”
WHACK! THWACK! Esmie
backhanded Melinda twice, and the android fell to the couch. “P-please Auntie
Esmeralda, don’t hurt me, I-uh got a bad grade on a test…”
The fat woman grabbed Melinda 109
by the ear and dragged her up again. “Haven’t I told you what I’d do to you if
you don’t study?” Melinda 109 looked at the floor, her synthetic lower lip
trembling.
"Auntie Esmeralda, I'm too
old for that...please-please don't--" Esmie
slapped her again.
"You're
a brat, Mindy, and you're good for nothing. You can't clean the house, and your
grades are shot! Strip down to your bra and panties,
Melinda 109 backed off, trembling.
"Oh, please, Auntie Esmeralda, don't--" But Esmie
was implacable, and she ripped Melinda's shirt off, and dragged down her plaid
skirt.
Now the robot was in a teenage
beige bra and panty set, and Esmie was picking up a
cane from Mother's basket, a stout Malacca that Esmie
herself had felt on her buttocks many times before becoming an adult.
(Actually, Esmeralda had been in
graduate school before Mother stopped using the cane).
Esmeralda came over to Melinda
109, who was shivering in her bra and panties. The android had not taken off
her knee socks or her saddle shoes, and Esmeralda thought "Mindy" was
quite hot looking.
"Take down your panties, you
little bitch." Esmie said between her teeth. Esmie came closer, and Melinda 109, confused, backed off a
little bit, and then burst into tears, and pulled her panties down, bending
over the couch.
"Please d-don't hit me too
hard, Auntie Esmeralda, I'm trying to be a good--"
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Although
Melinda 109 did not feel pain, she knew by the third hit at this coded level,
she was to begin writhing and screaming at the top of her lungs.
Esmie was in heaven, watching the cane hit the full white
buttocks. As the impact of the cane hit the foam covered bubbles that comprised
Melinda's gluteus maximus, congealed Red Dye No.2
appeared in long welts across Melinda's curves.
After Esmie
had hit one particularly hard, there were a few drops of simulated
"blood".
Esmie thought of her shitty day, of her boss yelling at her
because reports were late, of her psychoanalyst's disdain...
Then the aerobics instructor
screaming at her, the guy in the Mercedes behind her who
had called her a "cow" in the traffic jam...
And the contemptuous look of the
baker when she'd ordered a dozen éclairs...and then of course of Mother's
nastiness...Esmie was ready to pass it on!
She grabbed Melinda 109's blond
scalp and pulled her up, throwing the robot on her back and ripping off the
brassiere, which she tossed into the fireplace.
For a moment, Esmeralda was
arrested by the sight of Melinda's amazing full white breasts...God they were
beautiful! "Your boobs are obscene, young lady! Have you been showing them
off to the boys?"
Esmeralda’s script came from
memories of Mother, who had tortured her
daughter like this when Esmie had been an attractive
teenager, until the poor girl had gained one hundred fifty extra pounds.
The cane came down harshly across
Melinda's nipples, and Melinda 109 screamed and howled in agony. WHACK! WHACK!
SMACK! WHACK!
Melinda's breasts bounced and
heaved as the cane slammed against them again and again, until finally Melinda
covered her chest and cowered on the floor, shaking.
As Melinda 109 lay there, she wondered what Esmie would think if she knew the one night that she stayed
late after work to go to the psychoanalyst, was the night that Melinda 109 came
over to whip and cane Esmeralda’s Mother.
After Esmeralda had had her cunt licked by "Mindy" she'd dismissed the
android, and Melinda 109 briskly changed clothes, left Esmeralda’s house and
continued the walk to meet Idell...the love of her
life!
These were her final appointments,
and they were over, and Soapy had sent her power packs and a generator to
re-power them to Idell’s house.
Professor Jonathan would be
getting a letter explaining Melinda/Jessamyn's
disappearance, and of course he could create another android (as he had just
made the first male Marlon 109 the week before) He would not really miss Melinda/Jessamyn.
Myron and Byron would be showing
up to release Webb from the evil Cranium…and Elijah “Needles” Vesuvio, Soapy’s best friend (and
common-law son-in-law) had been given a suspended sentence by Judge Webb
Haskins…
But the down side was…poor Needles
had to manage the South Beach, Florida franchise of the Little Shop!
As Melinda
approached Idell's elderly Nissan, the black man came
out of the car and the two embraced.
"I'm yours forever, baby, or as long as we live within five miles of a
Radio Shack." Melinda murmured...and the two kissed lustily.
THE END
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