The Melinda 109: A Little Shop Story

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 Sterling had dropped in. Soapy had looked up from where he was sorting Heavy Weight Chain Mail Bikini Tops. "Soapy, is Melinda available?" Sterling had asked, his cueball head glistening.

 

"It's been so long. I'm dyin' in here." Sterling gestured to his crotch, which was bulging, and Soapy had looked away, but then he'd become businesslike. "Okay, Mr. O, you know that's three hundred dollars, you want me to charge your Visa number?"

 

Sterling had nodded breathlessly, and Soapy punched in the numbers, adding a $80 charge to his connection Abner, pharmacy clerk at West Concord Drugstore for some Tylenol 3 and a bit of Vicodin. Sterling Ostheimer was so obsessed with Melinda 109 that he'd never notice.

 

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, Sterling, how are you doing today!" Melinda's hair had been tied up in bun over her head, and she was clad in a red velvet tube top and hot pants, and of course the requisite fishnets and six inch black heels.

 

 Melinda put an elbow next to a case of Jelly Pearl Multi-speed Vibrators and smiled fetchingly.

 

"I-I'm so horny, Miss Melinda." Sterling said breathlessly, cowering by the pack of Flat Nipple Screws."I-it's been so long."

 

Soapy thought that Sterling looked like a calf about to be slaughtered. His face was pale and his bare pate was not glistening quite so much in the darkened storeroom, though Soapy had switched on a light.

 

"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..." Sterling looked at Soapy and then turned his head back to Melinda. "release myself."

 

"Well, that's the breaks, Sterling dear."  Melinda said, and walked up and patted Sterling's egg head affectionately. "You just don't get to cum when you want to, you know."

 

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 Sterling was now naked, his flabby body lying over a crate of Leather Strait Jackets, his clothes piled next to a box of Boot Dildo Straps.

 

"And you might wash Sterling's chastity belt, dear. It's by the shipment of Black Mini-Suede Floggers, no not there, but where the--no those are the White Willow canes, Past the case of Mayfair Latex Mini-dresses, don't be stupid, darling. Yes, that thing. Don't make a face, dear."

 

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 Sterling's butt was now a riot of welts, scars, blotches and slashes. Melinda 109 hardly seemed disturbed. "Soaperstein, you are a sleazy boy...and you must have a set of dice don't you?"

 

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. Sterling was leaning against the towering cases of  Diktator Penis Whips, his hands cuffed behind his head. Soapy could see that Melinda 109 had been rubbing her long fingers up and down Sterling's cock and it looked quite swollen, and drooling with pre ejaculate.

 

"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 Sterling as he beat his meat?"

 

Melinda 109 smiled at Sterling. "But you know, sweetheart, this time I'm just going to jerk you off myself, no problems whatsoever...if you come up with the right number. What's your number?"

 

Sterling thought. "Um, ten."

 

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...Sterling's fucked up again!"

 

And of course Soapy had had to go get the belt, while Sterling had begun weeping in earnest.

Two weeks went by and Sterling showed up again mumbling about "200 days now" and Melinda took him in the storeroom, there was shrieking, and then he was sent away, and then a week later, Sterling showed up.

 

"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 Canada, as they seemed to have everything there.

 

Sterling gazed at Soapy with haggard eyes. "I've been chaste for two thirds of a year now, Soapy...I couldn't wait another week for a chance to get this damn thing off. Jesus, I haven't busted my nut in so long."

 

And the worst part, Soapy thought, was that apparently Sterling and Miranda had been dancing this dance for nearly three years.

 

 Before this 200 days, Soapy'd heard that Sterling had gone 84 days and before that 39 days, and before THAT, 99 days! What has happened to capitalism, Soapy thought, not for the first time.

 

"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."

 

Sterling had shaken his head. "No, I love Miss Melinda, we talk on the phone four times a week." This Soapy knew, though actually it wasn't Melinda 109 the love-doll Sterling was talking to, but  a mechanism at Professor Jonathan Tamulevich's laboratory.

 

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-MEL-INDA, and pull out your Visa card. The number was displayed, with a picture of Melinda 109, in the back of every adult magazine in the Western Hemisphere.

 

 Poor Sterling was in a weird kind of chastity device, as Soapy had observed. It was designed with a small hole just where the frenulum was, on the underside of the cock, so Sterling could masturbate through that, but it didn't give him enough friction power to cum.

 

This way, Sterling had been able to call Melinda regularly, and play with himself, going broke in the process...but not cumming. And Sterling deluded himself into believing that Melinda cared for him!

 

"C-can I see her?" Sterling begged. Soapy had to consider. What was going on right now?

 

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.

 

"Milton has been a good boy, but Hattie did not get her lines written!" Melinda shrieked. WHACK SLASH! SMACK! THWACK!

 

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 Milton's leash. "Milton you are a good boy, running your dry cleaning chain didn't keep you from doing YOUR sentences... and you can go into the storeroom and jerk yourself off three times before putting your chastity belt back on."

 

Milton beamed as he got up."That's good news after 94 days of chastity, Miss Melinda!" He ran back into the storeroom and shut the door. Soon all could hear his moans of ecstasy.

 

Sterling turned to Soapy jealously. "Hear that?" he whispered to the manager. "Three times that bastard is going to be allowed to release himself. It's an outrage."

 

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. Sterling just gaped at the scene. "Once Melinda whipped me with a length of rubber hose...it had sand in it. That hurt like hell.--"Sterling winced.

 

Soapy wanted to hear no more, but Sterling was determined to talk.

 

" 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." Sterling whispered.

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, Sterling." Melinda said in astonishment. "I have a feeling someone isn't going to be wearing a bikini on that cruise, what do you think?" LASH! SLASH! SLASH! Three times the Implorer fell and Hattie howled with pain, though the hooks scraped and didn't embed themselves in the skin.

 

"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 Sterling's chastity device...the Implorer is much too bloody."

 

"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 Sterling in fascination, Melinda dragged her steaming forefinger down Hattie's squirming breast and onto her stomach, and indeed, there was a red line.

 

 "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 Sterling and Soapy watched as her "penis" shot out between her legs. "I know you don't like giving blowjobs, Hattie...you always refused for poor Milton...but you'll do it now!"

 

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 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 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, 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 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, 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?