The Little Shop Ch. 06

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.

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?"