Amber Tamblyn and her homeless slave

Amber Tamblyn and her homeless slave  

By Author Unknown

Amber Tamblyn was walking home from shooting the latest episode of Joan Of Arcadia, when she saw the bum. He was lying in the gutter, his face in the scum trickling down the drain. Amber was wearing a long velvet jacket, a shirt with ‘Barbie Is A Slut’ written on it, tattered jeans and a pair of old sneakers that she had owned for years and refused to get rid of. She wasn’t wearing any socks.
She walked over to the homeless guy and looked down at the pathetic heap. She nudged his head with the toe of her sneakers.
‘Hey,’ she said, ‘Hey, fella, get up.’
The bum stirred briefly, then stopped moving again. Amber didn’t like to be ignored, but she bit down her anger and only gave the bum a small kick in the ribs.
‘Hey! You, I’m talking to you!’
The bum looked up at her and squinted at her through dirt-encrusted eyelids.
‘Hi,’ Amber said, brightly. ‘Are you hungry?’

Half an hour later, the two of them were in a fast food joint, the bum gorging himself on the fatty food put before him. Amber watched him in quiet disgust. When he had finally finished his fourth course, Amber asked him:
‘You got no place to stay?’
The bum shook his head emphatically.
‘Don’t talk much, do you?’
The bum shook his head emphatically.
‘Hmmph. Well, we can’t let you spend the night in the gutter, there’ll be a storm tonight. Come back to mine.’

The bum looked around the tastefully decorated apartment, completely oblivious to the contempt his hostess obviously held for him. He walked into the centre of the room, looked around and wiped a tear from his eye. Amber told him to go and take a shower, he stank.

As the bum got out of the shower ten minutes later, he noticed his clothes were gone. He timidly peered out from the bathroom doorway. Amber was sat on the sofa, watching TV and drinking a beer.
‘I threw your clothes out,’ Amber said, without looking up. The bum was shocked, and didn’t know what to say. What was he supposed to wear?
‘It’s to make sure you don’t go wondering out,’ Amber said, still not looking at him. ‘You’re going to help me with a few things.’
The bum was uncertain about this, but the girl had been very kind to him so far, for no apparent reason, so he accepted this as simply part of the young stranger’s hospitality.
‘First off,’ Amber said. ‘Take the trash out to the alley.’

The bum stood shivering and terrified in the alleyway behind the apartment building, naked and still wet. He looked around him, scared of being discovered by someone who might have him arrested. Why had she not given him anything to wear out here? Not even a coat. The bum put the garbage bags in an already existing pile, and hurried up the stairs, praying to not be seen. When he got to Amber’s door, he found it locked. He knocked cautiously. There was no reply. Was this the right door? He was very uncertain, scared and cold. He knocked again, louder this time. The door opened slowly, Amber looked at him without really seeing him and turned, walking back to the sofa.
‘Close the door, it’s cold,’ she said.

Three and a half hours later, Amber’s apartment was spotless. Not a speck of dust or dirt could be found. The bum was drained completely. He sat in the middle of the kitchen floor, a mop still in his hand, still naked. Amber hadn’t moved from the sofa. She yawned and stretched her arms and legs. She was sleepy from watching the bum clean her apartment, she’d go to bed soon, there was only a few other things to do.

Amber clicked her fingers. Moments later the bum appeared at the arm of the sofa, still crouched.
‘Everything done?’ she asked.
The bum nodded. Every little thing on the list she had demanded of him had been done. From arranging her cutlery in order of size, to cleaning her toilet – all naked.
‘Everything done?’ Amber asked again.
The bum nodded, this time a little unsure. Amber sighed loudly, raised her legs a few inches in the air and rolled her feet around her ankles and few times.
‘Everything done?’ she asked again, more sternly. The bum swallowed, not sure what was required of him. There hadn’t been anything else on the list, had there? Amber’s sneakers rotated inches from his face. He decided to take the initiative, and began to undo the laces.
For that he received a kick in the cheek. ‘Clean them,’ Amber said. The bum hesitated. What with?
‘Lick them, I walked though dogshit a few hours ago. I don’t think I got all the bits in the treads. Come on. What are you waiting for?’
The bum couldn’t believe what was happening, what had he done to deserve this? Had he offended this girl in some way? The right sneaker moved towards his face. He held it by the ankle, slowly sticking his tongue out. And then he began to lick. He could taste the @#%$ on the tip of his tongue. Suddenly, the four burgers he had had earlier that day wanted to come up and say hello. His stomach churned, but he continued. Why was he doing this? What was possessing him? This girl, years younger than him, was treating him like, well, a dog would be a generous description. He continued licking the @#%$ from the soles of her sneakers, moving his now dry tongue through the treads, collecting the mud and @#%$ on his tongue. And all the while, the girl was watching TV. Not even looking at him to make sure he was doing the job. He felt sick, with the taste and with himself.
After both sneakers had undergone the same treatment, Amber indicated that he was to continue doing what he had originally tried – to undo the laces. He did each quietly, trying to glance up and catch her looking down at him, but she didn’t. She still hadn’t bothered to look at him.
When both sneakers were undone, Amber without a word stuck the heels of each on his lower jaw and used his mouth to lever them off. The smell was instantly in his nostrils, how long had she been wearing those old things?
Her bare feet glistened in the glow of the TV in front of his face. Her toenails were covered in the remains of green nailpolish, and between her toes – he could feel his stomach churn again – was thick muck, brown and wet.
‘Hands and knees’ Amber said. Without thinking, the bum leant forward and assumed a dog position. Amber rested one foot on the back of his neck, he could feel the moist heel on his skin, while her other foot dangled in front of his face. Amber picked up the remote and changed the channel to the news, wasn’t that election today? Or was that yesterday?
‘Come on, start licking.’
Although he had been more than half expecting this to be his next task, part of his brain had been praying that it wouldn’t be the case. Now it had been confirmed, he felt a whimper form in the back of his throat. Fourteen hours ago, he had been rummaging in a bin for breakfast, but he’d never felt as worthless or as pathetic as he did now. His tongue hesitantly peeked out from between his dry lips. He gulped and closed his eyes. And touched the heel with his tongue.
Although it was infinitely less unhygienic than the dogshit, it tasted a thousand times worse. Sweat that had formed hours ago in those filthy sneakers and had hung in a thin film over her feet was now being collected on his tongue, the salt hurting his tastebuds. He licked and licked Amber’s foot, swallowing layer after layer of sweat and dirt, dead skin cells and fragments of material that had rubbed off of the inside of the sneaker onto her foot.
He licked her heel, her instep, sole, and finally, between the toes, removing chunks of filth from the crevices and sucking it down his throat. And after a never-ending hell of licking and sucking her hideous-tasting unwashed foot, he had to start on the next. And throughout the ordeal, not once did he see his tormenter even glance in his general direction.
At long last, both feet were licked totally clean, the only wetness left on them being his own saliva. The TV went off abruptly.
‘Go to the bedroom and lie on your back next to the bed.’

As he lay thinking and pitying himself in the dark, Amber entered the bedroom. She walked through the door, headed for the bed and stepped on his legs, walking the length of his body in three steps. And then she began to undress. He felt her bare feet pressing onto his chest, making it painful to breathe. She took off her shirt, then lifted one leg to begin taking off her jeans. He felt the pressure of her entire body concentrated on one foot crushing down on his stomach. She pulled one leg out of the jeans and put her foot back down, this time on his face. She lifted her other leg, his skull screamed in pain as her whole body weight forced down on his face. The jeans came off completely and both feet were on his chest.
She removed the covers, stepped off of him, got into bed and said:
‘Get out.’

That night, just a few metres from where Amber Tamblyn lives, a naked bum was arrested and thrown in jail. The next morning Amber woke up and watched the morning news. She saw a story about a naked homeless man near her apartment. She watched the footage of the policemen beating him with nightsticks to get him into the squad car. She furrowed her brow slightly. That guy looked familiar somehow… oh, well. Now, where were her old sneakers?