Chapter 39: A Truly Shameful Day

Martha looked around the room expectantly. Expecting what, the dark-eyed, dark-skinned beauty did not know. Pain shot through her hand and she knew that Julie, her blonde-haired, light skinned counterpart was feeling a bit antsy, maybe even nervous, too.

Tommy Fielding, after having driven the girls to his family's home, just sat there in his father's overstuffed chair, seeming to stare into space. The girls, confused over this odd behaviour simply stood there, and continued to hold each other's hand, and waited for Tommy to do or say something.

Martha listened as the clock on the far wall ticked away the seconds. She was getting anxious -- just standing there. She carefully leaned toward Julie and whispered ever so quietly, "Do you think he's asleep? I'm hoping he's dead." Julie tittered at her friend's answer her own question. The sound, though, didn't escape Tommy's notice. He got up from his chair, anger at having been distracted from this thoughts showing darkly in his eyes. The girls took all the courage they could muster and remained where they stood as the angry young man approached them.

He reached out and grabbed Martha by the upper arm. "Come with me, slut," he commanded, needlessly since he was hauling her, quite painfully, away from her spot. Julie, still holding tight to Martha's hand, was pulled along.

Tommy hauled Martha and Julie to the back of the house and came to a halt in the dining room. A beautiful maple table, one that looked like it'd been in the family for generations, took up most of the floor space. Martha was brutally shoved against the sturdy table, facing Tommy. "Julie, release the slut's hand and step to the side." Tommy commanded, never taking his eyes off Martha's face. Julie did as she was bade and stepped well off away, also never taking her eyes off her beloved friend, Martha.

Martha stood before Tommy, the table's edge pushing hard into her lower back, seeming to dare Tommy to do his best with her. She didn't know why she disliked him so much, but it seemed natural to feel such hatred and defiance towards this sadistic young man -- a boy, really, only a few years younger than herself and Julie. She wanted so badly to spit in his face, but knew that such an action would have severe repercussions, so held her spittle and her tongue, for once.

"I know you; you're the wench that just had to fuck yourself while watching me and Julie." He reached up to her bald, branded head. "I watched you in court and saw how you looked -- sitting there, like you're better than all the others -- even better than us men." Martha shook her head, negating the accusations. Tommy quickly gripped her chin in his large, firm hand and quietly forced her head to slowly nod, up and down. "Yes," He said in a low tone, keeping his face close to her own. "Say: Yes, Master, I do think I'm better than the men of this world. Say it, bitch!"

Martha, afraid for her own safety, repeated his words, "Yes, I do think I'm better than the men of this world." Tommy's face was flushed with an unreasonable anger. He clenched her chin harder and moved his face even closer. "Master."

Martha tried to pull back as the foul stench of his breath hit her full in the face and responded hastily. "What is it?"

"Are you forgetting 'Master'?" Tommy asked with a hint of sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

"I forgot nothing, my maladroit one. But, now that I think about it; it does seem that you were going to put me on this table -- somehow." Martha held her face from cracking into a smile. Julie, still remaining motionless and quiet a few feet from the stubborn pair, caught the insult to Tommy and, without further ado, broke out laughing.

Tommy, feeling a bit disconcerted, whipped his head toward the direction of the outburst. "What are you laughing at, slut?" He demanded with a bare hint of loss of control.

Julie clammed up. She liked Tommy and wanted him to own her one day and she knew she shouldn't laugh at Martha's insult, but she couldn't help herself.

"Well, Julie... ?" a glance flashed between Martha and Tommy. Both seemed to be attempting to take control of the situation. Tommy was failing, but Julie didn't mind. She was enjoying the innocent fun. After all, it was the weekend, time to release tensions. So, with that, Julie smiled gleefully and her eyes came to rest on Tommy.

"My puerile one, Martha was only showing you irreverence, as is her wont."

Tommy frowned at a couple of the words in Julie's statement. He couldn't afford to show ignorance to these sluts, yet it was something the black bitch had said that caused Julie to break out in laughter, in the first place. He would make a mental note of these words and look them up later, for now, he'd have his fun with them and then take out the trash. He smiled to himself. Yep, for once, he'd enjoy taking out the trash.

"Quiet, slut." He commanded of Julie. "I'll be taking care of you in a minute."

He released Martha's chin and ordered her up onto the table. She got up on the old piece of furniture and felt her hands and knees begin to slip. The surface, worn smooth from years of use and polishing, was like as ice, without the cold temperature.

Tommy had Martha stand with her legs spread apart. The rubber soles of her spiked shoes kept her from doing the splits. She mentally thanked the powers that be for making quality shoes. Of course, what man would want his female to break a leg if she were to slip while walking down the street with him? While Martha let her thoughts run a mile a minute, she watched Tommy anchor her legs into place with soft rope. He had rigged the rope so that one end each end was tied to a table leg and her own ankle was bond securely in the middle, forming a "V" with the rope. As he was finished tying off the second rope to the last leg of the table, she raised one to check for "give". The leg was, as she'd expected, able to move outward but unable to shift in any other direction; and moving her legs outward was the last thing she wanted to do.

Tommy stood back to admire his handy work -- and saw that Martha's hands were free. He hopped onto the table, after grabbing more rope, and bond her wrists to the chandelier overhead. He really had no interest in the black wench, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He dropped down off the table and walked over to Julie. The pale skinned, blonde beauty was a good fuck the last time. Perhaps she would show him new tricks tonight -- and vice-versa. "All right, wench. It's partying you want. It's partying you get."

Martha watched from her table top perch as the two left the room. Tommy stepped back into the room, flicked the light switch on the wall. The room plunged into darkness, not even star light from outside showed through the open window. She wasn't concerned, though. If anything, she was thankful to be left alone.

Her natural hatred for the scrawny, insignificant man pulsated deep within her. She sneered in his direction as he left her in this silly, childish position. Yes, she thought to herself: He deserved to be called maladroit and puerile -- oh yes, and irreverent. She smiled at the memory of Julie joining in the little game.

Martha heard the low drone of Tommy's words as the pair moved further down the hall. A small, metallic clanking reached her ears -- keys on a chain, perhaps. Then the rest of the house plunged into darkness, immediately followed by the slam of the front door. Now, it was time to panic. "Hey! What about me?" She called out to the now silent house.

"What about me?" Martha strained her ears to hear of the two were just outside, having their "fun" there. Nothing. She pulled on the ropes that secured her legs in place -- and almost did the dreaded splits. Her mind raced again with its own thoughts. When would they be? Would? Would? Wait? What? And for the first time, Martha couldn't think well enough to come up with any coherent questions or comments. She stopped thinking, closed her eyes and let her mind go blank. She felt the worst of her panic ease from her mind. She felt her muscles start to relax. She felt...

Her eyes flew open as realisation dawned. She felt the need to urinate -- and the only place would be here, on his family's table.

After what felt like an eternity, Martha heard a car park outside the Fielding house. Relief rushed through her and the need to urinate intensified. She looked in the direction of the door. She wished she could see in this infernal darkness. Her patience was wearing thin and her ankles felt as if they were swelling against the rope that bond them in place.

A pair of voices reached her ears and brightness flooded the hallway. Martha now knew how it felt to be a puppy, waiting for it's master to return home so it can have some company -- and so it can finally go outside and piss.

Tommy's voice was louder now and as expected -- giving direction to Julie. "... warm some soup... I desire a late snack..." Martha quietly harumphed at this inane command. Julie wasn't Tommy's wife nor his personal slave. He should be telling the household slaves... Oh. Her thoughts trailed off as she recalled Tommy's father couldn't afford household help. She smiled haughtily at that knowledge. Julie's father was well off and could afford help... had even offered herself a well paying position in his household. She was glad she turned down his generous offer. She liked working for the ancient Asa.

The room she occupied flooded with light. Martha jerked a bit in shock and felt a small trickle of urine escape down between her clean shaved pussy. Julie begged her to shave it before they went out. Until then, Martha hadn't realised how much Julie enjoyed a smooth cunt. But this was a moot point now, for it wasn't Tommy and Julie standing in the doorway -- it was an older couple.

"What is this?" Came the loud boom of the older male. The couple approached the table, the eyes of the male doing a quick survey of the unknown guest.

He walked around the table, leaving his female -- his wife? -- to stand where she was and proceeded to exam the rest of Martha. She tried to look behind her, to follow the elder Fielding's progress, but found that after hours of forced inactivity, she was too stiff to move her neck.

Mr. Fielding reached up and pinched the smooth brown flesh covering the buttocks. Martha felt more urine release from her bladder. A whimper came from the elderly woman. "I'm sorry!" Martha said to her as heat entered her face, embarrassed at having soiled the beautiful table a second time.

Mr. Fielding reached up again and fingered Martha's party outfit. The bright colours made the sheer material even more noticeable against her dark flesh -- a fact she'd always enjoyed. The men loved it too -- usually. She felt the older man pull her skirt away from her body. Then tug a little harder on the thin material. Martha was still trying to look behind her when she felt a sharp pain in her stomach, a light tickle of material brush her leg and a draft hit her full in the crotch. Her bladder in response, released it's load of yellow liquid in one huge, long rush. Martha heard Tommy's mother howl in anger and frustration as the foul smelling liquid hit the surface of her beloved table and splatter to hit her husband and herself.

Martha cried out also, in anger and embarrassment, but also in great relief as the liquid eased up. Relief, until she felt a painful slap across her exposed arse. Now, she howled even louder, out of pain and felt her bladder empty another gush of liquid onto the table.

"You idiot!" Mr. Fielding bellowed. He took a deep breath to regain control over himself. "What kind of training have you had as a slave if you cannot even hold your own bladder?"

"Sir, I'm not a slave. I'm a worker at a zoo." That was all that Asa had told her to say if ever asked who or what she was, even though it -- technically -- wasn't a zoo. Asa was very specific in what she could say; the information she could impart to those who were genuinely curious -- and male. That's why she hadn't been able to tell Julie much about her new job

position.

Mr. Fielding manoeuvred around to the front of the table. "What kind of zoo?"

Martha looked down on the man, feeling awkward in doing so -- for it felt like she were on a pedestal -- like a Goddess. And as if reading her mind, he responded...

"Don't even think about it. Icons aren't held in bondage while posing upon their pedestals. Now answer me, wench."

Martha eased her Goddess-like and somewhat "high-and-mighty" posture. "An oriental zoo, Sir." She was about to give out more information, but that would be going against Asa's orders.

A flash of recognition lit the man's eyes for a second. Martha's interest in this man was ignited, for not many knew of the purpose of the oriental zoo -- and certainly no women did, except for her and the female receptionist. Well, she thought the receptionist knew, she wasn't really sure...

"Your mind is wandering."

Martha smiled, feebly. This man knew people very well. "Yes, sir. Sorry." She awaited to see what he'd say, or do, next.

He looked over to his wife and seemed to feign shock at her presence here. "Weren't you supposed to be getting me some soup, woman?"