Chapter 83: Idle Days

by Kathy R.

Martha was getting restless. It'd been close to two weeks since she'd arrived on the farm and hadn't had any sexual encounter since that first, and only, 'liason' with the owner. Martha was given a long white robe to wear, one that covered every bit of her body, except her head and neck, feet and hands. The robe, Brenda had told her, was to deter any male from making any advances. The owner, apparently, was strict about his tests and didn't want anyone or anything to interfere with the results. Martha wasn't even allowed to finger her own pussy, nor her breasts. Now, when she thought of sex, her body barely reacted; even when she worked her imagination really hard to envision herself interlocked with... with? She couldn't even imagine herself with a male, at this point.

And so, she had whiled away her days playing board games and learning how to play billiards. Women came and went, every so often, some in tears, others in elation. No one talked to her of those tears, nor of the smiles. After her tour with Brenda, she'd expected to learn the rules, but so far, she had only been told to stay in the Main Hall and entertain herself. She was in solitary confinement, without really being alone.

Yet, for two weeks, and no one who was willing to talk to her, she felt very alone, in her heart and her mind. She fought depression by playing games, focussing her attention on the rules of 9-ball. This was the only time anyone talked to her -- when game rules were needed. Talk of games and whatever program was on the air -- these were her only topics of conversation -- the only ones allowed to her.

She knew she was being watched. She didn't mind that, she just wished her watcher would reveal him or herself, talk to her. "I could just talk to myself." She announced orally and startled herself with her own voice, causing the white cue ball to miss its mark. She tossed the beautifully carved cue up onto the table and walked over to her room. 'What the hell, I might as well sleep.' Her depression was taking hold again and she wasn't sure she wanted to fight it.

She plopped down into her bed, wondering once again about the disappearance of Brenda. She had been the only woman that Martha had gotten the opportunity to speak with and that was only the one day. She hoped her only friend -- if that's what Brenda was -- was okay...

Another week passed and Martha was finally summoned to go to the lab. The woman that summoned her, was the complete opposite of Brenda -- the one familiar face that Martha still hasn't seen since her arrival. This woman, named Grace, as she'd been informed, was thin, had midnight black hair and eyes almost as dark as her hair. "You are to come with me, Martha," Grace informed her.

The two women made their way to the other building. This time, when they passed the stud barn, Martha didn't feel her body get out of whack. She had thought that her body, not having been touched in three weeks would have responded, but it remained silent. Should she be relieved or worried about that? She didn't know how she should be feeling.

They entered the building and Martha was surprised to see that a few stalls were now it use. And there, in the nearest stall, with her head sticking out between the slats of the stall door, was Brenda. She was on her hands and knees and a handsome male was pounding her from behind -- doggy-style. Martha started to raise her hand to wave to her friend, but Grace stopped her. "Do not interrupt the studs while they are working -- that includes the mares under them."

'Mares?' Martha looked at Grace then back towards the stalls. Yes, they did look like mares and stallions, now that she thought about it.

"Come." Came the now impatient voice of Grace. Martha turned and followed her into the lab. As she'd expected, it looked very much like a doctor's office. A slim table, complete with stirrups dominated the room. A small sink and the usual array of cupboards and drawers occupied the rest of the space. A small man, wearing the tradition white robe seen in hospitals, stood near the table.

He patted the surface. "Upsy-daisy, girl." Martha moved to disrobe but a wave of his hand stopped her from proceeding any further. "Not necessary. I can hike the material up around your knees, or over your abdomen to get at the areas I wish to gain access to; disrobing won't be necessary.

Martha got up on the table and placed her feet into the stirrups. The examination went without a hitch and proved to be much shorter than the average gynecological test. Afterwards, she was redirected to the Main Hall and told to wait. "Wait for what?" She asked as Grace began to head towards one of the halls that led to the private quarters.

Grace shrugged, "Just... wait." And disappeared down the hall.

Martha plopped down on the sofa in front of the holo-vision to watch the daily news alone. "Tired of being alone." She mumbled to herself. The story of the missing daughter of Cunningham was being broadcasted. She'd heard so much of that story she was sick of it. "Why the hell did the media feel the need to rehash a story so much?" She asked of the empty room.

"Because nothing else exciting or catastrophic has happened since the kidnapping." Martha jumped and looked at her fellow conversationalist.

'Oh, no. I'm not permitted to speak to men.' She scoochied away from the stranger, noting how handsome his face was. "I'm sorry, Sir. I'm not permitted to speak to any males." With that said, she turned back to look at the news anchorman. She wasn't sure what to do in this situation, but ignoring him seemed her best bet. But he wouldn't be ignored. He sat down next to her, leaving no space between his body and hers. Though she enjoyed the warmth of his body next to hers, she shifted to the right, away from the warmth -- not saying a thing.