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MISS ANDI
Petronella Courcheval, manager of the PainCafe’s Gift Shop, looked enthusiastically at F.X. Copeland’s newest creation. “It’s an android?” she said. “God, it looks just like me.”
And it was—black hair in a Cleopatra cut, full lips like purple berries, intense hazel eyes, cantaloupe breasts encased in a purple halter…and long, fishnet legs. It was Petti to a tee.
“Yes’m.” Cope grinned. “I had to have a model, a muse, like…you’re so cute, y’know.”
Petti smiled. Cope was so guileless. He would sooner “cut m’ foot off” than cheat on his Muriel of 37 years…but he did appreciate a looker, and this robot thing was a direct tribute to Petti herself.
“Pardon me, are you the manager?” a frosted blonde interrupted. “I’m looking for a good bullwhip. And, that lovely man I tried the cane out on last month…having his buttocks show the weals was marvelous.”
Petti smiled. “You want my brother. Sniffen, come here!” A moment later, a middle aged man with gray hair, and an unfortunate pot belly, dressed in a cardigan striped shirt and khakis—“Slave to J.Crew” was how Petti described Sniff—came up, holding a bit of register tape.
“I’m just-just going over the numbers, Petti.” Sniffen Courcheval said in a shaking voice. “You said I couldn’t go to my Stamp Club meeting early tonight until I worked out the snarl—“
Petti waved her hand. “Forget that. Or no—you have to work it out before you go, but I need you to test bullwhips with this nice lady. Go behind the screen and drop your pants, please.”
Sniffen gulped, staring at his beautiful sister as the blonde customer giggled. “B-but you said I wouldn’t have to do that anymore—please Petti—“
Petti gritted her teeth. “That’s it. You can’t go to the Stamp Club OR your photography group, or even Dungeons and Dragons for a month. Get behind that screen!”
Sniffen began weeping softly. “P-please—“
“Do you want me to make it two months?”
And Sniffen bawling, ran behind the screen and there was a sound of a sigh, and the zipper of his pants being pulled down.
Petti smiled at the customer. “Isadora will bring you the whip selections. Do your best to wipe out my brother’s sorry attitude, please.”
The frosted blonde grinned conspiratorially, “You bet.” Isadora went past, carrying a bundle of frightening looking implements.
“I would recommend the split hide Spanish cat o nine tails, or the sjambok. It’s not shaped like a traditional whip, it’s more like a long crop but carved from genuine hippopotamus hide.” Petti smiled again
The frosted blonde laughed and went behind the screen. “Grab your ankles, asshole!” In a moment, Sniffen’s screams began, but Petti was completely distracted by her bionic doppelganger.
“So what is this?” Petti said, running a scarlet tipped forefinger down the metal arm.
“Well, y’know that there’s allus more submissive slave-type guys then dominant women what wants ‘em.” Cope explained laboriously. “Lotta fellas spend beaucoup bucks on the per-fessional ladies, but that ain’t no satisfaction. What about a week-long rental? Mistress Android here, or Miss Andi, as I call her, kin give a guy the ideer he gots a dominant wife, see?”
“It looks a bit expensive. It’s a real robot? Or android?” Petti put a crooked finger to her chin.
“Yeah, I got the go-ahead from the PainCafe big boss to borry money from the Vault, an’ I promised him you’d be satisfied…my inventions seem t’have worked out so far.” Cope said modestly, and Petti smiled. For a non-submissive man, she liked F.X. Copeland very much.
“Well, let’s see Miss Andi at work.” Petti stood back, and Cope pressed something on his remote control.
The android’s lovely eyes began to blink. Such long lashes, Petti thought. Secretly, she wondered if Cope’s creation was more beautiful than Petronella herself.
“Well it’s about time, Cope.” Miss Andi said, startling the hell out of Petti. But Cope only smiled.
“Miss Andi, meet the manager of the Dungeonopolis Gift Shop, Petronella.” Cope said smoothly, and the android turned and smiled charmingly.
“Well, I can see we’re sisters of a sort.” Miss Andi said, taking Petti’s startled hand. “Though I’m a little svelter, I think.”
Great, thought Petti. She’s a bitch already. Smiling, she turned and looked Miss Andi right in her plastic eyes. “Welcome to the Shop. I anticipate you will be the bringer of much revenue, if you’ve been programmed with any domination ability.”
This elicited a metallic chuckle from Miss Andi. “Yes, I think I’ve got the whole bitch goddess thing down pat, dear.” Miss Andi reached out and chucked Cope under the chin. “He already tried me out on a client this past week, didn’t you?”
“Really?”Petti asked with interest and some annoyance that she’d not been notified. “Who, may I ask?” Petronella knew most of the BDSM aficionados of Buttermilk Falls.
“His name is Gideon Reinicke, and we had quite a memorable eight days.”
Petti smiled. “I know Gid. He is between dominant girlfriends right now.”
Miss Andi smirked. “He wanted to give me some lip, our Gideon, Tell me how to be dominant, and I ripped off his clothes and slashed him ‘til he was sobbing with one of the legs from his dining room table, yup I broke it off, and then I shoved the leg up Gid’s ass and then made him lick his shit off it…and then I gave him a Clorox enema—“
“She’s real handy with finding household implements for sessions” Cope commented proudly.
“--And put him in diapers for the night…the next few days were quite cathartic.” Miss Andi continued.
"On the second day, after tying him to a hot radiator for the morning, I pierced his nipples with pliers I found in the basement and attached heavy Yale locks to them. And then caned them while he screamed and bellowed. I gave him a boiling maple syrup enema, and then ordered him to call a gay hustler service, and order up three big black guys."
"I'm trained in makeup application, and put Gid in a wig and an old dress of his mother's" Miss Andi continued. "I taught him to walk with a World Atlas on his head, to be a lady for his new friends...it was bad at first, and I had to pull down his panties and throw up his skirt and whip him again--" Miss Andi's hand transformed into a whip for just a moment as an illustration--"But by the time the hustlers got there, Gid was Gillian, such a sexy babe!"
Miss Andi laughed and chills ran through Petti’s heart. “I made him give each hustler a nice lap-dance, and thrashed him again for lack of enthusiasm. I told Gideon that even though he was chubby and balding and his teeth were crooked and yellow, he’d better bring all the boys to hard-ons before he sucked them off. I know what you’re thinking—did he have any experience with that—any time on the bone? I made sure he’d learned before the hustlers got there.”
Miss Andi paused, and something clicked, and a large steel penis shot out of her crotch area. "I gave him a little bit of practice with this, and then Giddie sucked off all three of the black guys, and then they took turns enlarging his rectum. Finally, as he was sobbing and causing serious damage to his makeup, I sent the fellows off with a hefty tip from Gid's wallet, and tied him by his balls from a basketball hoop next door. I told him he'd be there all night--I tied him there at nine-thirty, but by twelve I felt sorry for him and cut him down from his suspension.
"I tied Gideon's hands behind his back, and rubbed tuna fish all over his cock and balls, and then gave his cat a shot of crystal meth and locked them together in a steamer trunk I found in the attic for the rest of the evening...that cat had CLAWS, and though I did put protective goggles on Gid, the rest of his body didn't fare that well...And then the next---"
But Petti had had enough. "That's all right. I hope Gideon isn't going to sue us!"
"No, he said he'd like to have her back--asked us to just tone her down a little." Copeland commented after some thought.
Petti’s eyes met Cope’s. Dining table leg? Clorox? Just a bit violent…and Cope was nodding. Hopefully he could tighten up the bugs in the eh, “system.”
“But I’ve got great little delights to show you, Petti” Ms. Andi, impervious to the concerned look said cheerily. “Got a subbie to let me work on?”
As if in an answered prayer, the sobbing Sniffen, his chubby body stark naked and covered in long red welts, ran out from behind the screen. Behind him, the frosted blonde was taking two of the whips to the register.
“Stop, Sniffie!” Petti commanded. “Come over here.”
“But I’ve got to dress.” Sniffen said, covering his cock. “I-she ripped my clothes to shreds with the whip.”
Suddenly Miss Andi spun on her heel, stalked to Sniffen and grabbed him, incredibly by the scruff of his neck. With amazing strength, she lifted him up and carried him to Petti, Cope and a gathering of interested customers.
“Here is a perfect example. Note how I can tease and torture with no excess implements.” Miss Andi, still holding Sniffen in the air, reached down and easily crushed the small chastity device around his cock and balls, causing Petti to frown in annoyance—it had been expensive.
Then Miss Andi began massaging Sniffen’s dick. As the crowd watched, spurts of lubricant shot out of Miss Andi’s forefingers and she began giving Sniffen quite a hand job, going faster than the normal (human) hand could.
“Many women get tired of teasing hand jobs after half an hour, but I can go on for fourteen hours at a time.” Miss Andi said, smiling. “And then I can torture as well. Note how I now can send out liquid habaneras peppers, mixed with stinging nettles from my palm, and how my manicured fingernails become lion claws.”
This part of the demonstration made Sniffen scream in acute agony, but was no less entertaining. Then Miss Andi showed that her right hand could turn into a small rubber whip, and slash Sniffen’s already rather tortured buttocks…and then she stomped his cock with her heel.
Finally, as a reward, she returned her finger jets to soothing Vaseline, and gave Sniffen a nice orgasm, before patting him hard on the buttocks and sending him back to the office for clothes.
“That was quite an exhibit” Petronella said testily. “But I wish you’d asked me before you broke Sniff’s cock cage and gave him an unauthorized orgasm. He’s scheduled to have them every eight weeks, and was two and a half weeks into this eight week period.”
Miss Andi tossed her artificial hair and smiled. “I think I was in charge of that session, Petti, my dear. Why don’t you stick to managing this dreary little store, and let me handle the sexy stuff.”
Petronella looked somewhat truculent, but then Miss Andi leaned over and whispered “Or I can take you across my knee, pull those panties down and redden those little white curved buttocks, don’t think I won’t.”
A moment later, Petti was about to tell Cope to shut Miss Andi down (after she got a safe distance away) but they were both jolted when Benny Price, a regular for fetish videos, magazines and other solitary pleasures asked “How much for the weekend—with Miss Andi?”
Petronella smiled guiltily, thinking that Miss Andi had to be calmed down a bit, electronically, before being sent out. “Mr. Price, we are just demonstrating her now. She’ll possibly be ready next week—“
“How much’ll you pay for me, soldier?” Miss Andi interrupted. “And it better be munificent, your offer, or I’ll take it out on your hide when we get home.”
Benny grinned, absolutely bedazzled. “I’ll give you a thousand dollars a day for her, Miz Courcheval, and I’ll rent her for a month.”
Cope nudged Petti. “That’s pretty fair, half the cost of her manufacture…but the generator will be extry, Mister Price.”
Two hours later, Benny brought Miss Andi (and the generator) in the house. He was bedazzled. Benny had begun jerking off to femdom stories in “Penthouse Variations” forum when he was thirteen, and within a few months, had discovered that the A train would take him from his Brooklyn home to Times Square, where all the great books and videos were hawked.
Benny’s pop, Rabbi Price, would have shit a brick had he viewed Benny’s reading material, but it was a big house, and Benny had the basement all to himself, where he could have one-handed adventures “playing video games”.
Benny had fantasized about eventually meeting a woman who’d become his dominant wife, and he jerked off thinking about the big chested girls at school (and their mothers) while reading the great Mistress/Wife stories…but reality was far different. Benny’s various girlfriends and his two wives had been horrified at his interests—Benny learned that most women only want to dominate men NON-sexually…and they left when Benny when he stopped fucking them and resorted to his adolescent onanistic pleasures over “Corporal” magazine.
Why wouldn’t a woman want a guy to service her while naked on his knees—doing all the housework wearing only an apron and high heels…that neat stuff? No, Evelyn, Benny’s second wife had much preferred a traditional housekeeper, and by that time Benny was making big money in the software game—and Evelyn still had a housekeeper in the Manhattan duplex that she shared with their three kids, enjoying Benny’s generous child support payments indubitably.
And Benny, though trying to find a date at various BDSM groups, just found obese, neurotic Science Fiction types at any event he went to, none of whom vaguely resembled the hot dommes he’d paid for sizzling sessions. His business was a portable one, and he’d tried New York, San Francisco, Dallas, and even cities in Europe…no luck!
But Benny had learned about Buttermilk Falls, the quiet community with the infamous PainCafe, and he’d moved here eighteen months ago…but he’d still met no nice girl who’d give him pleasant hell. He’d gotten a huge crush on Petronella, the gift shop manager, and had gotten her, while in the ruse of buying canes, to take down his pants and whip him a few times…and he always bought whatever she’d whipped him with…but she wasn’t interested in dating Benny.
But here was her android double! Right here in his house, and Benny wondered whether Miss Andi could pretend to be his dominant wife…what would it be like?
Benny stopped his ruminating and looked at his dominant "Wife" for a month. She smiled metallically at him. "Benjamin, strip and bend across the couch immediately."
Benny obeyed, his hands trembling. He dropped his clothes to the floor, and ran to the couch. But then Miss Andi grabbed him by the arm, and bitch-slapped his face with an energy that turned him into a manic Bobble Head doll.
As Benny's nose bled, Miss Andi laughed contemptuously. "You don't have the sense to fold your damn clothes--Mommy is not pleased."
Benny ran and folded his clothes neatly after Miss Andi dropped them, and then staggered to the couch, and bent over, his erection swelling. Miss Andi came behind him, and, producing twine from a pocket in her tight jeans, tied Benny's ankles together, as well as his wrists behind his back. "I have tied this so tightly you'll never get away...and I don't believe in safe words...brace yourself for your first lesson!"
Benny noticed also, with a sinking heart, that Miss Andi pulled his cock and balls behind his legs, so when the whip hit them, it would be even worse. SLASH! CRACK! And she knew how to hit...her aim was nearly perfect.
Miss Andi swung again, right against Benny’s testicles…but then she took his cock in her long fingers and he felt the lube being squirted…and she gave him a heavenly tug job, before swinging the whip back again and wilting his penis with another evil crack!
“I hope I’m not going to have to jerk you into an erection after every lash, Benjamin.” Miss Andi said brusquely. “I want you to think of how sexy I am, and keep your dickie hard, or else I’ll really crush your balls. As your daddy probably used to say, if you keep crying, I’ll give you something to cry about…well, if you stay limp much longer, I’ll make you limp, with one twist, for the whole month you have me rented!”
Benny thought desperately of Miss May 20010, in his latest stroke book, and then he hardened a bit, and he heard Miss Andi’s chuckle of approval.
"I am going to hit you fifty times" Miss Andi said. "And then you are going to lick my electronic cunt. If I don't have three registered orgasms--and my internal computer will let me know--you will receive one hundred more lashes!"
But mysteriously, after she raised her whip-hand to strike again, Miss Andi stopped, holding her arm in the air. Benny's eyes closed, expecting a real hard crack...but he waited three minutes before daring to ask Miss Andi what was wrong...and then he remembered that, in his excitement and horniness to get things going, he'd forgotten to recharge Miss Andi pre-session.
And he couldn't move. His wrists were bound, his legs were bound...and he couldn't MOVE.
And--four hours later, still stiffly tied, perhaps until Marta came in the morning to clean Benny realized, as wet shit and pee finally evacuated his bowels and bladder that first, there was no substitute for a real woman, and secondly...in a way, this was the best BDSM session he'd ever had!
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