The Wife Sitter II

Sisters in Trouble

 A Sequel to The Wife Sitter  

It was the worst electrical storm in recorded history, or at least that’s what the newscaster on the entertainment wall said. It was something to do with the summer drought combined with extraordinary sun spot activity. It had raged for three hours and it looked like it was going to last all day, a day that was dark despite the hour just turning mid morning. Fork lightening fractured the sky every few seconds while thunder rumbled continuously and for the people foolish enough to be out in the storm the air crackled about them and rain hammered the ground. The phone system had become erratic but in one of its brief moments of sanity it buzzed. 

The panic stricken face of a white-coated scientist spluttered onto the flickering phone screen.  “Hello… hello, can I speak to Yvette Harman please? It is very urgent.” 

“Yvette isn’t available at the moment,” answered her stepsister Alison. “Can I take a message?” 

“There has been an incident at the Barclay Operations site and while we are sure there is nothing to worry about, we are taking the precaution of contacting some of our former customers.” 

“Oh yes,” grinned Alison. “I heard about Yvette’s little adventure with your Bob 7 unit. She could hardly sit down for three days afterwards. 

“Erh, quite so,” said the scientist, looking embarrassed, “b…but we don’t want a repeat performance so please listen.” 

Alison sniggered.  She would have loved to have been there when her 22-year-old sister had been mistaken for a brat and soundly spanked by the android baby-sitter.  

The scientist went on to explain that a number of android units had been charging at the factory an hour ago when the main transformer had suffered a devastating lightening strike. A power-surge had fried a number of units while other suffered a reboot and rollback. The Bob 7 unit that had previously been unofficially programmed by Yvette’s husband to baby-sit his wife had survived the blast but had almost certainly rolled back to that earlier assignment. 

“But why is that a problem?” asked Alison. 

“I’m afraid that in the confusion the unit has managed to leave the factory and we fear it may be on its way to your location. Please stay inside and lock your doors. We don’t know how stable the unit is and it may be some time before we can come to retrieve it. Remember, lock your doors and do not let the unit into your house.”  There was a flash of lightening outside and the screen crackled briefly before the image disappeared with a quiet pop. 

Alison stared at the blank screen for a moment, lost in thought. There had always been a rivalry between her and her stepsister. At 19 Alison was the younger sister and by far the most devious. For years as a child she had tricked, lied and schemed her self and her sister through a web of trouble, but she had always managed to side step at the last moment and leave Yvette holding the smoking gun. She had lost count of the number of times Yvette had been punished for the younger sister’s pranks. 

But that was all in the past. They were adults now and friends. In fact, Alison was spending the morning with Yvette while her boyfriend Joe and Yvette’s husband James were at the air-blades match. They were supposed to be having a great time but this storm was keeping them confined to the house, which was really boring, and Alison was a girl who needed to be entertained. She smiled wickedly. This could be a fantastic opportunity to re-live old times she thought. After all, if Bob spanked Yvette once it stands to reason that he could be persuaded to do it again and an opportunity like this was much too good to miss. 

“What could be more entertaining than that,” she laughed. 

The doorbell rang and Alison couldn’t suppress her grin. When she opened the door, she knew instantly that it had to be Bob. She recognised the slightly grey plasti-skin and the stiff upright stance. Bob was dripping wet in the hard downpour and lightening flashed behind him, casting a gothic horror silhouette. Alison should have observed the warning. 

“Yvette Harman?” 

“Erh No. I’m her younger sister,” said Alison with child like innocence. “Who are you?” 

“I am Barclay Operations Babysitter 7.2, but you may…” another flash of lightening disrupted Bob’s sensitive circuits causing him to freeze momentarily. He stared vacantly for a few seconds and then stuttered back to life, oblivious to the fact that he had just reset, “…  I… I am Barclay Operations Babysitter 7.2, but you may call me Bob.” 

“Oh yes,” nodded Alison sweetly, playing along with the fiction that she knew Bob had been programmed with.  “Dad said you would be around to look after us. Yvette is upstairs. I’m afraid she has been very naughty. I am Alison Cox, Yvette’s younger step sister.” 

“I was not expecting two children,” said Bob as he stepped into the house. 

“Ah…er…yes,” said Alison, momentarily thrown. “Erh… Dad didn’t know I would be here today. He’s my stepfather you know. He thought I would be visiting my other Dad. It’s a last minute change of plans. I hope that won’t be a problem. I’m terribly well behaved.” 

“That will not be a problem,” answered Bob. His eyes glazed over for a moment and then he continued. “I have made the appropriate adjustment to my assignment. Now please fetch your sister. I wish to address you both.” 

“Yes sir,” said Alison with a slight curtsy. “I’ll be right back.” 

Alison ran up the stairs and hammered on Yvette’s bedroom door. 

“Yvette! Are you out of the shower yet?” 

Yvette Harman snatched open the bedroom door looking nettled. She was brushing her hair. She had slipped on a skimpy metallic-silver shorts outfit, the latest 22nd century fashion, very short shorts and a matching cut-off top leaving her waist naked. Silver high-heeled boots completed the outfit. “What the Hell is your problem,” she snapped. 

“We have a visitor,” Alison replied gleefully. “He’s downstairs. He wants to talk to us both.” 

“A visitor?” said Yvette looking puzzled as she followed Alison down the stairs. The girls entered the lounge and Yvette froze. 

“Oh my God! What the Hell are you doing here Bob?” 

Bob studied the two young women. Yvette was curvaceous and athletic with long straight blond hair. Alison was more petite with short almost black hair giving her the appearance of a pretty pixy dressed in thermo-chrome jeans and a tight tee-shirt that clung to her firm breasts. Thermo-chrome denim changed colour with subtle temperature variations and Alison’s jeans played a constantly changing pattern of hot reds and cool blues. The incongruity of the girls having the physical appearance of adults was lost on Bob. His programming said they were children so that must be what they were. 

“I am Barclay Operations Babysitter 7.2, but you may call me Bob.” 

“I know what you are but why are you here?” 

Your father has hired me to look after you while he is away on his business trip…” 

“Whoa! Stop right there Bob,” said Alison holding up her hands. “I’ve heard all this before. We’ve been through this once and I’m not doing it again. Like I told you last time, I am not a child and I don’t need a babysitter. Now I don’t know why you have come but you can turn right around and go back to where you came from.” She turned angrily to Alison. “What ever possessed you to let this monster back into my house? You know what he did to me last time.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Alison with a smirk. “Dad has hired Bob to look after us. I hope you’re not going to be naughty. We wouldn’t want Bob to fetch that hairbrush from your bedroom would we?” 

“You bitch,” snapped Yvette. “Stop this game now before it gets out of hand. You’re playing with fire and believe me when I tell you that your tail is in serious danger of getting scorched.” 

“Oh I think Bob knows which one of us is misbehaving,” said Alison. 

“Miss Harman,” said Bob. “Stop this pretence at once. No matter how much you may feel like a mature young woman, you will obey my instructions or you will be punished. Is that quite clear?” 

“I’ve had enough of this,” said Yvette. “I’m calling Barclay Operations.” 

“You can’t do that,” said Alison smugly. “The video phone’s gone offline with the storm.” 

Alison checked her wrist phone and found that it was also kaput. She was just about to launch into another tirade against her sister when both girls were silenced by a loud crack and a smell of burning circuits. Bob blinked, his eyes glazed and a wisp of smoke drifted from his left ear. For a moment Yvette thought that Bob was out of action and she started to smile but the android was more robust than she’d hoped. 

Jerkily Bob’s head turned menacingly towards the girls and his eyes refocused on them. Causing Yvette to shiver. 

“Sit!” he said. 

“Yes sir,” said Alison, scurrying over to the couch. 

Yvette gave a deep sigh and followed. Miserably she slumped onto the couch next to her sister and glared at Bob. 

“That’s b…b…better,” said Bob. “Now let me give you some simple rules. I will not tolerate lying, swearing, rudeness, disobedience or f…f…fighting. If you break any of these rules you will be punished.” 

Yvette shuffled uneasily in her seat, remembering all too clearly how soundly Bob had punished her the last time they met. 

Having made his speech, Bob turned to walk away. Alison saw an opportunity and smacked herself hard on the back of her hand. Bob turned back immediately. 

“Ouch!” cried Alison. “Yvette! Why did you do that?” 

As an android, Bob was completely devoid of emotion but Yvette could have sworn he looked furious. Without waiting to hear her side of the story Bob strode towards her. 

“I didn’t do anything,” yelled Yvette, panicking. “Alison, tell him.” 

“She hit me Bob,” Alison protested, “and after you said fighting’s not allowed.” 

Yvette tried to scramble up the back of the couch as Bob reached for her but it did no good. Bob grasped her ankle and pulled her back, then wrapping a steel muscled arm around her waist he lifted her easily and tossed her over his shoulder. Yvette screamed and pounded on Bob’s back. Her shorts rode up showing a generous amount of bare bottom as her feet kicked frantically. A second later Bob found an upright chair. He sat down and swung Yvette over his knee. History was about to repeat itself. 

“Stop!” yelled Yvette. “Pleeeze. I haven’t done anything.” 

Yvette’s pleading did nothing to influence the emotionless android. He had laid out the rules and this young lady had chosen to disobey him. Now she must suffer the consequences. Bob clamped her in place with a cold hand on her slender waist, raised his hand high and launched into a blistering spanking on her upturned bottom. Yvette kicked and bawled as the thin material of her shorts offered little protection and her exposed lower cheeks reddened under the ferocious onslaught. 

Alison had to cover her mouth to stop from laughing out loud. Her plan had worked beautifully and little goody-too-shoes Yvette was getting the hiding of her life. 

Yvette writhed and howled but there was no escape. She reached back and tried to cover her bottom with her hand but Bob effortlessly moved it aside then continued undeterred until every inch of Yvette’s bottom was blazing. 

After an eternity Bob finally seemed satisfied that he had made his point and there would be no more bad behaviour from this disobedient young lady. The spanking ended abruptly and Bob released Yvette and sent her scurrying to her room to think hard about her behaviour. Furious and humiliated she hurried away tearfully with her hands clutching her stinging bottom. She ran up the stairs and flung herself face down on her bed. Alison wondered up after her and sat on the bed next to her. 

“You bitch,” sniffed Yvette. “Why did you lie?” 

“Oh get a sense of humour,” laughed Alison. “It was just a joke.” 

“A joke!” yelled Yvette. “A bloody joke! Have you seen what he’s done to my bum?” 

“Yes,” giggled Alison. “It was brilliant. In fact I think I’ll get him to do it again.” 

“Oh? And how do you plan to do that?” asked Yvette, wiping tears away from her cheek. 

Alison stood up and sauntered over to the dressing table. She picked up Yvette’s polished wooden hairbrush, stroked it thoughtfully and then twisting around she smacked it against her own bottom, testing the brush’s spanking potential. It stung mildly and she shivered with delight at the thought of what it would do to Yvette’s tender cheeks. 

“I don’t know yet,” she said. “Maybe I’ll break something and tell Bob that you threw it at me or maybe I’ll just tell him you hit me again. I can make the tin man believe anything I like. He trusts me, you see. He knows I’m a good little angel and you’re a very bad girl. It won’t take much to make him spank you again. In fact I think I’ll get started right now.” 

Yvette said nothing but smiled cryptically. Alison was surprised that her stepsister didn’t seem bothered by the threat. She frowned, puzzled but Yvette just sniffed away her tears. 

“Right,” said Alison, piqued by Yvette’s calm response,  “we’ll see if you’re still smiling when Bob’s finished with your hairbrush.” She turned quickly and marched purposefully away. She gave Yvette one last smug look then snatched open the door. In that instant, all smugness departed and the colour drained from Alison’s face. 

“Did I mention,” said Yvette with a grin, “that last time Bob was here I found to my cost that he has exceptionally sensitive hearing, in fact he can hear us talking from anywhere in the house. I suspect he is now fully acquainted with your mischievous plans and lies.” 

Bob stood blocking the doorway of the bedroom. His steely robotic gaze was fixed on Alison. Alison looked around in panic but there was no escape. Bob stepped forward and grabbed her by the wrist.  He removed the hairbrush from her grip and towed her over to the bed. In a second he sat down and hauled the terrified girl face down over his knee. “Now young lady,” said Bob. “You are going to learn an important lesson in honesty.” 

Yvette rolled off the bed so she could get a good view of the unfolding spectacle. 

Bob clamped Alison in place with an immovable arm over her waist and her jeans stretched tight over her shapely bottom. He quickly raised the hairbrush and smacked it down with a loud thwap! emitting a tear filled howl from the delinquent sister. Instantly a pink glow flared across Alison’s left cheek as the thermo-chrome denim reacted to the rising heat. Smack after smack followed, raining down in rapid succession and Alison kicked and yelled as her jean clad bottom glowed redder and redder. 

Bob raised the brush one last time to deliver a final smack when a bolt of lightening flashed across the sky over the house and thunder crashed hot on its heels. The lights in the house flickered, Bob’s circuits fizzed and his eyes glazed over. Bob was frozen in place with one arm pinning Alison to his knees and the other locked in mid swing. 

“What… what’s happening,” Alison sobbed. 

“I think Bob’s had another overload,” said Yvette. 

“Quick. Help me get up,” cried Alison, struggling ineffectively under Bob’s steel grip. I… I’m stuck.” 

Yvette made a halfhearted attempt to prise Bob’s arm off of her sister, but gave up straight away. “It’s no good,” she said. “I can’t move it. It looks like you’ll just have to stay there until Bob wakes up.” Yvette covered her mouth and started to laugh. 

“What’s so funny?” asked Alison sulkily. 

“Well, don’t you see? Bob’s been doing this all day.” 

“Doing what?” said Alison, becoming even more irritated. 

“Crashing and resetting,” said Yvette. Every time there is a flash of lightening Bob freezes and then rolls back and repeats his last action. If we don’t get you off his knee and escape then Bob’s going to rollback and repeat his last action again. Do you remember what that was?” 

Alison turned frantic. “Oh my God, oh my God! Please help me. Get me free. I can’t take another spanking!” 

“I think it’s your belt that’s stopping you from sliding out of his grip,” said Yvette. “Here, let me have a look.”

Yvette reached under Alison’s waist and started unfastening her belt and jeans. 

“Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” cried Alison. 

“There’s no time to argue,” said Yvette. “Do you want to be free or not? Now lift your hips a little.” 

Alison did as instructed and Yvette gripped the waistband of her jeans and dragged them down her thighs, leaving them bunched around her knees. 

“I… I still can’t move,” said Alison. 

“No? How strange,” said Yvette with mock sincerity. She smoothed out Alison’s white cotton panties and patted her condescendingly on the bottom. “There now, isn’t that better?” 

“Oh my God no,” screamed Alison. “Don’t do this. Don’t let him spank me on my knickers!” 

“You are so right,” said Yvette. “What ever was I thinking. Here, let me help you.” She reached down and tugged Alison’s panties over her bottom and down to join her jeans around her knees.  

“No!” yelled Alison, now in a wild panic. “Please, you can’t leave me like this. I’m sorry I made Bob spank you. I didn’t realise it hurt so much.” 

“I don’t suppose you did,” said Yvette, “because you’ve never been spanked before have you. You always managed to get me into trouble instead. In fact you’ve got an awful lot to be sorry about Alison.” 

“I know, I know but…” Alison stopped in mid sentence and whimpered as she felt the cold sensation of the wooden hairbrush rest gently on her sore bottom. Bob was returning to life. 

“N…n…n…now young lady,” said Bob as he stuttered back into action. “You are going to learn an important lesson in hon…hon…honesty.” He didn’t seem to notice that Alison’s jeans and panties had been pulled down. He just raised the hairbrush and launched into a repeat of Alison’s well earned punishment. Alison howled with every smack but this time it was her bare bottom that turned apple red. 

With the task complete Bob released the sobbing girl and left the room.  Alison lay on the bed and bawled.

The girls waited half an hour but there were no more sounds from Bob. Wincing and sniffling Alison gently eased her panties and jeans back over her bottom and cautiously the two young women crept down the stairs. They found Bob standing motionless in the Kitchen. There was a strong smell of frazzled circuits and a slight smoky haze. It seemed that Bob’s delicate and damaged electronics had finally given up the ghost. 

A moment later the doorbell sounded and Yvette went to answer it. A team of technicians bustled into the room and began an examination of the inanimate android. 

“I hope he wasn’t any trouble,” said Dr. Sarah Brown, the team leader. 

“No trouble at all,” said Yvette with a grin. “In fact Alison and Bob got on like a house on fire.” 

“It’s not the house that’s on fire,” mumbled Alison, yelping as she tried to sit down. 

The technicians departed taking Bob with them. “We’ll clear down his cache and restore his factory settings,” called Dr Brown as they left. “You won’t have any more unexpected visits from Bob.” 

“Oh what a shame,” said Yvette cheerfully to Alison, “I was thinking of bringing Bob back the next time you need a lesson in honesty.” 

“Owww,” whimpered Alison, gently rubbing her bottom. “You’re such a comedian. How am I going to explain to Joe why I can’t sit down? 

“Well,” said Yvette. “You could try telling the truth for a change and if it makes him angry with you… well, I can always lend him my hairbrush.”