The Little Shop Ch. 04

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 Manchester, right?" Soapy had been sent there by his last wife after his daughter had poured Kool-Aid on his stash.

"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 Judah says I can come stay at your house again for a month, oh boy. I can't wait to suck on your big lollipop again!"

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. Denton pajamas?" Gridwell demanded.

After "they" left, Soapy had staggered off to Methadone Maintenance, wondering if he'd lost his mind somehow.

TO BE CONTINUED...