The Little Shop Ch. 05

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 Sterling with wicked eyes as she bent her cane. "Oh, so you decided to come early this week, did you? You have to lay out another three hundred dollars, Sterling."

Sterling began shaking in his boots. Milton and Hattie, now fully dressed hurried by, stopping only to kiss Melinda 109's hand. Milton handed Melinda his chastity key, pulling his pants out to show her that the belt was safely on.

"See you next week, and remember those sentences." Melinda nodded, and the old couple left.

Melinda 109 turned and gave Sterling her full attention. "In the storeroom, and on the double." Sterling went into the storeroom immediately, and Melinda smiled at Soapy before turning on her heel and following.

Soon, Soapy was summoned by Melinda, and when he got in, he saw Sterling was naked, hands bound behind him to a crate of Black Leather Wrist Gauntlets.

This while Melinda, perched on a case of Red Hogtie Restraint Rings, was teasing Sterling's cock.

"Hello, clerk boy" Melinda turned and smiled at Soapy. "Go get the disgusting chastity belt and wash it. It's sitting by the package of Leopardwood Ferule Paddles"

Soapy watched Sterling beg...it was sickening.

. When Soapy came back downstairs, Melinda had Sterling moved to a carton of Spiked Chest Harnesses, and she was rubbing Lubriderm all over his stiff cock once again.

Sterling:

"It's so hard Miss Melinda, Sterling begged, as Melinda ran her nails across his stiff, bluish pre-cum leaking penis.

"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." Sterling said

Melinda 109 continued to pull and torture Sterling's cock lazily. "Yes, because you're a compulsive wanker, darling...all those hours in public restroom stalls."

Suddenly Melinda 109's voice changed, and Soapy and Sterling could hear that a taped recording of Sterling was coming from her mouth.

"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.

You know, 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."

Sterling went into shock. "I can't believe you did that, you taped me, Miss Melinda!"

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?"

Sterling's oval head had bobbed up. "Miss Melinda, I wasn't ordering you..." WHACK THWACK! Melinda's other hand (she was, after all, ambidextrous) had grasped a leather slapper and she'd given Sterling a smart one right across the mouth.

"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 Sterling's balls and squeezed incredibly hard and the little man had nearly passed out.

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.

The bums 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 Sterling being allowed to beat his meat whiled the drunks peed on him...and oh how depraved it all had been...and what a disgusting memory!

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 of course 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 Selma's expecting again."

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.

Not a pale loser 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 Webb had fallen to the floor, still trying to crawl away.

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.

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.

Melinda 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.

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?