4 comments/ 28891 views/ 5 favorites Southern Delights Ch. 01 By: SassyGal84 I'm not really sure what happened. The night before, I had fallen asleep, watching a rebroadcast of one of my favorite Sunday morning news shows. It was October 2008 and I was staying overnight in a hotel in North Carolina, having just finished a meeting with a tech company that my company did consulting work for. The next morning I found myself in the same town, but it was October 1995. And there were other differences too. Very significant ones. I knew something was wrong when the media/internet center in my suite had been replaced by a TV that looked like it was from the 1950's. At first I thought I was dreaming, and turned it on. It took a few minutes to warm up, and when it did, a newscaster was talking about the recent round of economic talks with the United States of America. I looked out the window and was further shocked. The hotel I was staying at was in a suburb of Charlotte. It was early morning and in the middle of the week, so I was expecting to see a growing amount of traffic heading to work. There was traffic all right, but the few cars on the road looked like they were from the 1950's. And there was something off about the cars. There were a couple of buses as well, but they also looked to be a bit off. I heard a humming from above, and you could imagine my surprise when I actually saw an airship above! An actual dirigible! I could see a few more in the distance. I started digging around the room, trying to figure out what kind of dream this was. There was an open letter on the desk, addressed to me. I started reading it and found it was from the law firm of Thompson & Smith, based in Charlotte, North Carolina. The letter advised me I had inherited an estate from my late Uncle William (which was odd since, since to the best of my knowledge, I didn't have an Uncle William), which included seventeen registered indentureds. The letter invited me to stay as a guest at the Wilson Hotel (I had gone to sleep in a Holiday Inn Express) at the firm's expense, as it would take a week or so to settle things. I sat down in a chair, trying to figure out what kind of weird dream this was. As I looked around, I had come to the conclusion that I had either had a psychotic breakdown, or had somehow found myself...well, somewhere other than where I went to asleep at. I had my answer after two weeks of going to the local library and watching the news. Somehow, I had found myself in a world where the Confederate States of America hadn't lost the Civil War. Fortunately, I had two weeks of paid self-study before I had to fit into this brave new world. The suburb I was in was still a separate small town, as the city of Charlotte had not yet spread to the point of encompassing the small towns around it. I don't know if I replaced the 'me' in this world (and he was having to learn how to survive in my 'old' world), or if this universe somehow accommodated my presence. Whatever the answer was, I had a wallet full of identification and cash, including a 'steamer' license from the state of Virginia with a black and white picture of me. The information was correct, including my birth date. The other cards, including one identifying me as a professor of applied physics and advance technology at Roanoke College...well, it appeared I had pursued a more academic career in this reality. But I digress. The law firm had written a letter that stated I was to be their guest at the hotel I was staying in until they had certain matters secured. Until then, my time was my own, and it appeared from other documentation I had in my luggage that I was on a sabbatical from Roanoke for the time being. So I spent the next two weeks going to the library, watching television and listening to the radio. It was an interesting world I had found myself in. One of the big differences was there had never been a world war of any type. All this world's wars had been regional. And no major direct confrontations between the major powers. Think "the great game" that had been waged between Russian and England on the Indian subcontinent, and you have an idea how things worked on the global scale. For the most part, though, the world was divided into areas of influence, with an alliance between England, the CSA and Japan pretty much calling the shots across the globe. Not that there weren't tensions. Agents of the German Empire and the Russians were active all across the globe, and of course there were always local insurgencies, but for the most part the world continued on under the paternal governance of the three major powers. Of course, the lack of major conflicts after the American Civil War had created a certain amount of technological stagnation. Transistors were just starting to replace vacuum tubes. And this world had taken a greener turn, which was evident by the predominance of public transit even in a small town of this size, as well as the fact that automobiles ran on electricity and steam, rather than gasoline. Lest you think that this world was a new Paradise, slavery still existed in the Confederacy, albeit in a sanitized and institutionalized form. The Confederacy still had racial purity laws that kept track of the the percentage of 'black blood' that each citizen, similar to those that the state of Louisiana had in my world well into the latter portion of the twentieth century. And black 'citizens' of the Confederacy were restricted to a single name, and often economically 'indentured' to a property, although there was a thriving black middle class in many of the larger towns and cities. If you're wondering why black citizens of the Confederacy just didn't move elsewhere, it was because the options facing them were less than palatable. The northern provinces of the Mexican Empire had been brought into the Confederacy proper, allowing the CSA access to the Pacific Ocean. The rest of Mexico, as well as the nations of the Carribean, fell under the sway of the CSA. In the second world country that was now the United States, blacks were held responsible for the downfall of the United States. Even more than a hundred years later, the hatred toward blacks in the US actually caused some blacks there to seek sanctuary in the CSA. And no Commonwealth country was going to provide harbor for blacks fleeing from one the three great powers. Again, though, I'm digressing. Suffice it to say, blacks might have had more rights one hundred thirty years after the Civil War than before it, but they were still second-class citizens, often subjected to the whims and laws of the white citizens of the CSA. So it was two weeks later that I was listening to a Sinatra style-ballad sung by a man who had been a minor actor in my old world when I was contacted by the law firm that was representing my late uncle's estate. When I walked into the office, I was directed to the office of the lawyer handling my uncle's estate, one Michael C. Hall. If the name sounds familiar, it should. In my old world, Michael Hall had been an actor who had starred in "Six Feet Under" and "Dexter." OK, I know I'm getting off track again, but that was the weird thing about this world. Actors like Michael Hall could be 'normal' people in this world, and people I knew in my old world were major stars. A guy that was in my garage band in high school was a major action film star. Hollywood wasn't in Hollywood, however. London was still the center of the world, although Nashville was becoming an avant garde music center. New Orleans was still New Orleans, though, but even more so, with elements of Las Vegas and Disneyland thrown in. People came from all over the world to party in New Orleans, especially between Christmas and Ash Wednesday. But let me get back on track. Mr. Hall (he was very formal, insisting on calling me Mr. Johnson, rather than Ben or even Benjamin) brought me into his office, insisting on serving me coffee and taking a few moments for 'small talk' before getting down to business. My late uncle had quite the small but active investment firm, and had significant shares in companies not only in the CSA, but throughout the world. He had had a very healthy checking and savings account, as well as a very elegant house in a gated community just north of Charlotte. He also had left me seventeen 'indentured black citizens.' Theoretically, indentured black citizens 'voluntarily' indentured themselves to a property in exchange for room and board and a small stipend, and could leave said property anytime they wanted. In actuality, they could only leave a property if they had secured employment elsewhere. Then the property owner had to voluntarily allow the indentured servant to leave the property. If the property owner refused to do so, the indentured servant could appeal to the local magistrate. Usually, though, the magistrate, if not a good friend with the indentured servant's 'employer', at the very least moved in the same circles as said 'employer.' There were other avenues of appeals beyond that, but as you can imagine, the employer could make the apealees life a living hell while the wheels of justice ground on. There was a short note about one of the indentured servants named Gabrielle. She was listed as a twenty three year old female employee hired by a friend of my late uncle as a chambermaid. I thought that an odd title for an employee in an non-English household, and made an off-handed comment about it to Mr. Hill. Mr Hill turned a bright red, and then began to haltingly explain what a chambermaid was in the household of an upper class Southern householder. Chambermaid was code for an indentured servant hired for the sexual gratification of her employer. Chambermaids were usually young, attractive and virgins. A friend of my uncle's had hired Gabrielle approximately seven years ago for my uncle. Unfortunately for my uncle, his health had begun failing even then. His mind was as sharp as ever, right up until the end (or so I was told), but his body was a non-functioning shell that was a source of continuous pain. I wasn't sure what to think about inheriting a woman whose sole purpose in my new household was to be deflowered for my pleasure. I will admit that theoretically, the concept of a beautiful young black woman waiting to be sexually awakened by me was arousing. The reality was probably going to be more depressing, as a scared young woman laid on her back, waiting for me to finish my business. I was lost in my thoughts, so Mr. Hall had to ask me twice if I was ready to ride out to my new property. I nodded, feeling a mixture of expectation and trepidation. The house I inherited looked like something straight out of 'Gone With the Wind.' There were no visible phone or power lines, until I learned that in upper-class gated communities such as this, they were usually buried underground for aesthetic reasons. Mr. Hall and I got out of his car at the entrance, while a liveried black man took to the keys from Mr. Hall. We were met at the door by a middle-aged black woman who looked all business. Mr. Hall made the introductions. "Helena, this is Mr. Johnson, your new employer." I stuck out my hand, which caused a raised eyebrow from both Helena and Mr. Hall. Helena just smiled, taking my hand in both of hers. "Don't you worry, Mr. Johnson. This house is in just as good a shape as when your poor Uncle left us. Mr. Hall tells us your an inventor and a college professor. We have an out building that'll be just perfect for your needs, right next to the steamer house." Mr. Hall tried to smile, but it seemed to be one of bemusement. "Mr. Johnson, I shall leave you in the capable hands of Helena, and call upon you tomorrow. In the meantime, if you need anything, please don't hesitate. You have my phone number." With that, Mr. Hall left me in my new house. Helena took me by the elbow and began showing me my new house, as well as introducing me to my new employees. I'm not sure what hidden signal was exchanged by Helena to my new employees, but there seemed to be an air of relaxation as soon as Helena came into view, with me in tow. I guess there had to be a lot of mixed emotions about what their new 'employer' would be like. I guess an 'employer' who shook hands with his 'employees' had to be considered a potentially good one. My favorite employee that I met during the tour was Thales, the house electrician. He was sixty years old, and had quite a bit of practical knowledge about the technological advancements of the day. We got to talking, and Helena had to amusingly put a stop to our discussion. "Thales, Mr. Johnson has more important things to do than to chatter with you here all night. And by the look of that tool box, you have some chores to do as well." I stuck out my hand to shake Thales's hand, and he shook it back vigorously. "I'll make sure to come find you soon, Thales. I have some ideas about a workshop that I want to get your input on." Thales grinned broadly. "It'll be my pleasure, Mr. Johnson." Helena just shook her head with a smile. I guess she just assumed that a white man inheriting a house full of 'indentured servants' didn't act like this, and was pleasantly surprised. "Helena, I was wondering, would it be possible to have everyone in the household sit down for dinner with me tonight? Just so I can get a feel for things, and the people here? I know it's late notice..." Helena looked at me as if I had grown a second head. I later found out it wasn't unusual to have all the servants at the table, but it was usually for special occasions, such as a major holiday or an older servant's hallmark birthday. And to have one's employer be concerned about the late notice of something... "I think we can arrange something, if you don't mind something light, Mr. Johnson. And I assume you'll want Thales seated by you." I grinned. Actually, I was thinking about something that might not be entirely ethical, but what the hell. I had inherited a substantial amount of money, and I was a technical representative from a more advanced civilization. I was also something of a history buff, as far as the development of technology was concerned. I was fairly sure that with Thales's help, I could start a home electronics lab that would revolutionize the world in the next ten years, as well as fatten my bank account. My only hesitation was taking credit for other people's work, as well as the possible benefit to be reaped by a society that I did not agree with about some of their underlying social structures. Helena and I approached a pair of double oak doors, and I noticed something change in Helena's demeanor. "Mr. Johnson, this will be your quarters." She opened the doors to a room that was reminiscent of Roman extravagance. But that's not what caught my eye. Sitting on the edge of one of the chairs was a young woman who I assumed was Gabrielle. I assumed this because in my world she was known as Gabrielle Union, the model/actress. "This is Gabrielle, your chambermaid." Helena had just confirmed my suspicions. I noticed that she used the word 'chambermaid' neutrally. "She will show you the intricacies of your quarters. Your clothes and other items you left at the hotel have already been brought here. Gabrielle will show you where they are. I'll have supper served in three hours. If you need anything, just push zero on your phone for the switchboard, and I will appear immediately." Helena closed the door, leaving me and Gabrielle to ourselves. Gabrielle and I just stared at each other in silence, not really sure what to do. I had been a fan of Gabrielle Union since I had seen her in "Bring It On." And now, here she was, theoretically available for me to use as I pleased. She was wearing a plain white blouse, buttoned up very conservatively, with the outline of her bra visible through the material. She was wearing a dark blue skirt and slip-on shoes. Nothing very exciting. She was still the most stunning woman I had ever seen. After what was probably a few minutes of silence, Gabrielle blurted out. "I'm still a virgin. Your uncle was too sick to ever do anything with me.. He never even saw any part of me. And I'm on the Dot." Gabrielle untucked her blouse and lifted it to show a red dot on her side. It was a birth control device, one of the few ways that this world was more advanced than our world was in 1995. It had to be inserted just once, and was good for a year. In addition, the red dot would disappear when the birth control device was no longer working. I also couldn't help but notice what a flat stomach Gabrielle had. One of the things that was true in both worlds. It took me a couple of tries to find my voice, as Gabrielle sat in her chair, trembling, wondering what was going to happen to her. "Come here." Gabrielle stood up, walking toward me, her eyes downcast. She knelt in front of my chair, waiting.I reached down, took her hands in mine, then told her to look at me. "I'm not going to hurt you." Gabrielle just nodded her head, looking at me with her wide, brown eyes. I ran my fingers through her hair, noticing that in this world, it went down to the top of her breasts. I ran the back of my fingers across her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned into it. "It's been hard these years, hasn't it?" I asked. "Too hard for a young girl as beautiful as you." Gabrielle looked at me with those wide eyes, then buried her head in my lap, crying her eyes out. She began telling me everything, from being selected as a possible chambermaid at eleven, to being 'hired' by one rich white man as a gift to another rich white man. About waiting every night, not sure what her fate would be. And the stigma of being a 'chambermaid' among the other employees. When she finished, she looked up at me, and started apologizing. I just put her beautiful face between my hands and kissed her on the forehead. She blinked, and then said, "You are the strangest white man I've ever met." I laughed at that. I was probably the only white man like me she would ever meet. Which got me thinking about whether there were others like me in this world, and if there were other worlds like this, the same but different from my own. And how I got here. I stood up and looked at the clock. It was about thirty minutes before the supper with my new employees. I told Gabrielle we had better get cleaned up or Helena would probably be cross with us. When I told Gabrielle about the dinner, she just shook her head. "You are the strangest white man I've ever met. But I'm glad you're like you are." Gabrielle gave me a tight hug as I reflected I must be the only white man in the Confederacy whose 'employees' would feel comfortable enough to tell him how strange he was. I put my arms around Gabrielle and hugged her back, letting my hand move up and down her back. This just made her snuggle in closer. I found myself getting aroused by the feel of Gabrielle in my arms. Gabrielle must have felt my growing erection, for she stepped back with a look of surprise and alarm in her face. "I'm---I'm sorry. Look, we better get cleaned up. You can go back to your room, and I'll see you down in the dining room." Gabrielle reached up and touched my face. "It's OK. Anyway, my room is over there." She pointed to one of the doors branching off from my bedroom. She turned to head toward it, then turned back to me. "Mr. Johnson, would you...would you kiss me again? But on my lips? I've never been kissed on my lips." Gabrielle didn't have to ask me twice. I strode over to her and took her into my arms. The kiss was tenative at first, as her inexperience became obvious. As she became more relaxed and confident in my arms, the kiss deepened. My hands moved on their own, sliding down her back to the top of her buttocks. I could feel her stiffen in surprise at first, but then she pressed herself into me. When I broke off the kiss, she leaned her head against my chest and moaned softly, as my hands continued wandering over her back and bottom. Finally, I pushed her away and said, "We really need to get ready for dinner, Gabrielle." Southern Delights Ch. 01 Gabrielle smiled. "After dinner, Mr. Johnson, could you kiss me again?" I nodded my head, as I indeed planned to kiss Gabrielle again. And more... Southern Delights Ch. 02 Helena apologized that dinner was something that was thrown together at the last minute. All I can say is, I can't wait to see something that she puts together after days of planning and cooking. Dinner was a buffet with tiny cut sandwiches, fruit, seafood on ice...finger foods of all sorts placed on a side table. My 'employees' seemed to be in a good mood, though there was still a certain amount of reservation in my presence. After all, if I proved to be mercurial in my moods, what recourse did they have? I found myself seated at the head of the table, with Thales on my right hand, and Gabrielle on my left. Helena was seated on the other side of the Gabrielle, which I discovered was for Gabrielle's protection. Gabrielle herself seemed a little bit apprehensive, but quickly became relaxed as Helena and Thales treated her as a favorite grandchild. I have to admit that most of my discussion was with Thales. We must have gone through several napkins, drawing how we wanted the electronics lab to be designed, what supplies we would need, etc. Gabrielle listened, a bemused look on her face. My other 'employees' ate their supper and watched, wandering what the fact that Thales was monopolizing the conversation with the new employer meant. Helena had a satisfied smile on her face. After dinner, I caught Thales yawning. He gave me a bashful smile and said, "I hope you'll forgive me, Mr. Johnson, but I'm not as young as I once was." "No apologies necessary, Thales. Get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow I'll call the bank so we can set up an account for you to draw from, so we can get the lab running." Thales grinned, and enthusiastically shook my hand again when I offered it. I made it a point to say one last 'good night' to all the employees present, then looked around for Gabrielle. No sign of her. I mentally shrugged, thinking that maybe things had been so overwhelming that she needed some time alone. It didn't occur to me that as her 'employer', I could demand she should be available to me. Instead, i bid Helena good night as she directed three other employees in cleaning up. She waved and smiled before returning to her task. When I entered my room, Gabrielle was sitting on my bed, still in the same plain outfit that still looked so good on her. I did notice that she was barefoot, though. "Mr. Johnson, could I have that kiss now?" I crooked my finger at her, beckoning her to me. This time, she enthusiastically ran into my arms, and we were in another deep kiss. When my hands roamed down to her bottom, she moaned in my mouth, and actually seemed reluctant to end the kiss when I gently pushed her away. Her breathing quickened when my fingers went to the top button of her blouse. Her eyes closed as I unbuttoned the top bottom, then the next. I caressed the exposed skin of her collar bone, watching her face. Her eyes were closed, her mouth slightly opened, and she was definitely enjoying my touch. I placed my finger under her chin, tilting her face upward. She opened her eyes, looking at me with eyes full of wonder. "Shall I stop?" I asked, the corner of my mouth quirking upwards. She shook her head 'no', then closed her eyes as my fingers returned to the buttons of her blouse. I toyed with the next button, watching her chest rise and fall rapidly. I moved my hand over to her left breast, running my fingers along its underside. Gabrielle gasped as I did so, then moaned as I cupped her breast, caressing it lightly. I moved my fingers back to her buttons, undoing two more until the white fabric between her cups appeared. I pushed her blouse aside just far enough to caress the skin of above her cup. "Oh, Mr. Johnson, that feels so wonderful." "Ben." I corrected her, as I continued caressing her skin. "I---Oh Ben!" I had slipped my finger under her left cup, sliding my fingers down to her stiffening nipple. Again I removed my fingers from her breast, moving them back to finish removing her blouse. Once I had it unbuttoned, I tugged it from her skirt, then pushed it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. Gabrielle watched me with "deer in the headlights" eyes as I started reaching behind her to undo her bra. I stopped, having a better idea. "Gabrielle, take off your bra for me." Gabrielle reached behind her, her hands trembling. It took her a few tries, but she finally undid the hooks behind her. Her hands moved back to her front, her hands holding up the cups. I gently pulled her hands away, letting the straps of her bra slide down her arms and to the floor. Gabrielle tried to move her hands to cover herself, but I kept them firmly by her side. She turned her head to the side, eyes closed, blushing. "Gabrielle, look at me. Look at me." Gabrielle turned her head, still having a hard time looking at me. I lifted her chin so she was forced to look me in the eye. "You are absolutely the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Gabrielle ducked her head in embarrassment, then moaned when I dropped to my knees, taking one of her breasts into my mouth. I teased her nipple, lazily tracing my tongue around it, before I ran my tongue over it. I continued nursing on one breast, then moved to the other, giving it equal treatment. Gabrielle cradled my head against her chest, trying to push more of herself into my mouth. I started moving my mouth down across that flat tummy of hers, which elicited a giggle from her. "Mr. Johnson, that tickles!" I looked up, admiring the way her hair draped across her breasts, reaching for her wet, hardened nipples. Her face had the first real smile I remember seeing on it, at least in this world. "When we're alone, Gabrielle, it's Ben or Benjamin." "OK, Mis---Benjamin." I could tell that Gabrielle felt a little uncomfortable talking to me so informally, but also happy at the intimacy. "And I have plans to tickle you a little bit lower." I undid the button on her skirt's waist, then reach behind her and pulled the zipper down. The skirt fell to Gabrielle's feet. She self-unconsciously stepped out of skirt, standing before me in plain white panties, the crotch slightly damp. I ran a finger lightly over the damp spot, which caused Gabrielle to whimper. I ran my hands slowly up and down Gabrielle's legs, admiring their smoothness and firmness. When my hands reached the waist band of her panties, I looked up again in her face as I slowly tugged her panties down. Gabrielle bit her lip, but was able to maintain eye contact. I looked back down at the treasure I had revealed. Her pubic hair was trimmed, and her lower lips were swollen and wet. When I ran my finger lightly over them, Gabrielle's hands went to my shoulders to support herself. I continued running my finger lightly over her nether lips, listening to the sounds of approval that my touch elicited. I moved my finger up until I found her clitoris, letting my fingertip just barely graze it. Gabrielle's knees literally buckled as more of her weight was supported on my shoulders. I continued lightly rubbing her tiny bump, amazed at the sounds coming from her. For a virgin, she certainly was vocal! I continued caressing her clit, resisting the urge to lap her love juices, even though the heady, musky scent in front of me was enticing me to do just that. It was probably for the best. Just a couple of minutes of my intimate touches, and Gabrielle screamed my name once, before sinking to her knees. Gabrielle was leaning heavily against me, her arms draped around my necks and shoulders. Finally, when she caught her breath, she leaned back enough to kiss me. Hard. "Mr. Johnson, th--" "Benjamin. Or Ben." Gabrielle took a deep breath, which did things to her breasts that I found very appreciable. "Benjamin, that was wonderful. I didn't think it would be like that." I kissed Gabrielle softly. "That was just the tip of the iceberg, Gabrielle." Gabrielle hugged me tightly, obviously looking forward to what was coming next. Southern Delights Ch. 03 I was in paradise. I had entered a world where a young Gabrielle Union (just in her early twenties) was literally my personal sex slave. A virgin Gabrielle Union I might add, who was currently kneeling on the floor with me, dressed in nothing but an orgasm-induced smile. I broke the embrace we have been sharing and stood up, drawing Gabrielle up along with me. Once we stood on our feet, I held her back for a moment, letting my eyes roam that luscious body of hers. A pretty red color came to Gabrielle's cheeks, but she did nothing to hide herself, and actually seemed to be enjoying my lascivious gaze. I let my eyes take in all of Gabrielle's lovely form before I drew her in for another kiss. Gabrielle leaned her head back slightly, welcoming my kiss, one that seemed to last forever. When I broke the kiss, Gabrielle looked back at me and smiled. Then she did the one thing that no man wants to see the woman do when he plans to take to her to bed for a night of passion. She yawned. A shocked look immediately came to Gabrielle's face at the realization of what she had just done. "Mr. Johnson, I'm sorry, I--" I put a single finger on those lovely lips of her to quiet her. "You didn't get much sleep the night before, did you, Gabrielle? Or the night before that? Or the night before that?" Gabrielle hung her head and shook it slowly. I put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so I could look into her eyes. There was a world of emotions in those eyes, including two that I hoped I could ensure remained there: hope and trust. "You've been afraid of all the possibilities that me coming here must have represented to you. I would even go so far as to wager that, even though you've slept alone since you've arrived in this house, you've not had one night's full sleep. That's true, isn't it?" Gabrielle gave a small nod, her chin still caught in my fingers, her beautiful brown eyes wide and watching. I released her chin and pulled her into my arms, which she sank into gratefully. "Well, tonight, I think it's time you got that full night's sleep. Starting right now." Gabrielle backed away, her eyes alarmed. "But Mr. Johnson, I--" I gave Gabrielle an impish smile as I wagged my finger in her face. "What did I say to call me when we're alone, Gabrielle?" Gabrielle blushed as she began again. "I was going to say, Benjamin,"--I could still tell she had problems saying my first name--"that we haven't ... well, we haven't actually done anything." I let my eyes roam up and down Gabrielle's nude form, which left her blushing furiously. "By the noises you were making earlier, Gabrielle, I wouldn't say we were doing anything." Gabrielle actually stomped her foot, a sight which was made even more delectable by the fact that she wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. "You know what I mean, Benjamin." I chuckled as I took Gabrielle back into my arms, reflecting on the surreal nature of the conversation I was having. A nude Gabrielle Union, my personal sex slave, was in my bedroom, admonishing me for not having yet taken her virginity. This must be a dream! "I know that I've established a bond with you, Gabrielle, and that bond means more than pleasuring this delectable body of yours." Gabrielle gave me an emphatic squeeze when I said that. "Anyway, you're going to need your sleep tonight, because I guarantee you, you won't get any tomorrow night," I said as I scooped Gabrielle into my arms. Gabrielle squealed with delighted laughter as I carried her into her bedroom. I set her down on her single bed, and took one last look at her lovely form. Gabrielle gave me a half-smile as she stretched her body, making me regret again that I was doing the "noble" thing. I tucked her in and gave her a kiss on the forehead before leaving her room, turning off her light. I went back to my own room, gathering Gabrielle's clothing from my bedroom floor. As I picked up her discarded bra, I idly noted the label read "36B" and wondered how much someone would pay on ebay for a bra worn by Gabrielle Union. Assuming that I ever returned to a world with ebay, I mentally added to myself. When I re-entered Gabrielle's bedroom, I found her fast asleep, an angelic smile on her face. I looked around her room and found it sadly empty. There was just a few pieces of simple furniture, a small closet, and another door which I knew led to a common bathroom that would be shared by other 'chambermaids, ' assuming that I ever acquired additional chambermaids. I felt a pang of guilt that there wasn't even one small personal item in her room. Not your fault, I told my conscience; you didn't create the world she grew up in. But you were willing to take advantage of this world's tenets in order to bed Gabrielle Union, weren't you, my conscience replied. That's the unfortunate thing about have a conscience, I wryly noted. If you were going to listen to it, it sometimes had the audacity to give you the unvarnished truth. As I went to my more lavishly appointed bedroom, I made myself a promise. First, no matter what happened between Gabrielle and me, I would always treat her with the kindness and gentleness that she deserved. And second, though I doubted one man couldn't change the negative aspects of the world I was living in, I would ensure that no one living under my power would suffer while under my care. My conscience mollified, I decided to go to sleep. Not an easy thing to do as, unlike my conscience, my libido was now wide awake, and constantly reminding me that a more than willing Gabrielle Union was in the next room. Eventually, though, I did get to sleep, but it was a fitful sleep, filled with dreams where a nude and willing Gabrielle Union figured significantly. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The next morning, I was awakened by the telephone ringing by my bed. My eyes feeling as if they were welded shut, I grope around with my arm to pick it up. "Your wake-up call, Mr. Johnson. Its 6:30 a.m. Miss Helena left you a coffee tray in your sitting room." I mumbled a thank you as I got out of my bed, put on my robe and walked/stumbled into my sitting, the room adjacent to my bedroom that served as a waiting room of sorts for servants who weren't 'chambermaids', so as not to disturb me while I was in flagrante delicto with a chambermaid. Sitting on an end table by one of the chairs in the room was a single cup of coffee. I took one sip and almost sprayed the contents of my mouth all over my sitting room. The coffee in that cup had to be the strongest, thickest and definitely most bitter cup of coffee I had ever tasted. I was later to learn that my Uncle had the habit of having such a cup of coffee left for him to wake him up in the morning, a habit that Helena had wisely deduced I would want to continue. With a grimace on my face, I finished the cup of coffee and found myself wide awake. I poked my head into Gabrielle's bedroom, and found her still sleeping, a wide smile on her face, which put a big smile on my own mug. Taking a quick shower, I dressed for a day in town, and then went down to the dining room, finding a pot of coffee, a plate of breakfast and Thales waiting for me at the table. "Thought that was you coming down the stairs, Mr. Johnson, so I made sure your breakfast was on the table when you got here." "Thanks, Helena," I answered, eyeing the coffee pot warily as I sat in front of my breakfast plate. Helena saw where my eyes were resting, and laughed. "Don't you worry, Mr. Johnson, that there is good coffee. Not like the coffee you had this morning." "I hope not, Helena. I think my body couldn't handle more than one cup of that kind of coffee in a day." Helena laughed again as she poured me a cup, and I was reassured by the aroma drifting up towards me. I was later to learn that the household I had inherited kept bags of different types of coffee beans for different parts of the day, and that Helena could have put the best baristas of my world or hers to shame. Helena was about to leave me and Thales to our discussion (like any good majordomo, Helena was a master at anticipating the desires of the head of the household, even one new to me), when I asked her to join us as well. Somewhat warily, she sat down and let me talk her into pouring herself a cup of coffee of her own. "I want both of you to start thinking about moving." There was a look of alarm on both their faces before I reassured them, "No, I'm not talking about getting rid of you. I'm talking about all of us moving. I mean, this is a very nice house." Which was an understatement, to say the least. The house I had inherited was several thousand square feet, with all the amenities of the modern world as this universe defined modernity. "But we're in a residential neighborhood. Which limits the things me and Thales can experiment on. I'd like some room. And, I want to make sure you and everyone in the household is happier to wherever we're moving, Helena. Think about what you'd like in your new kitchen, Helena. And your living quarters. Think about what can be done to make things easier for people to keep up with friends and family they might be moving away from. Don't limit yourself when you're coming up with your list." I almost started laughing at the gape jawed look Helena and Thales were giving me. I knew in this world that it was simply unheard of for a white man to really look out for the welfare of his indentured black servants. Oh, the head of the household might throw a minor celebration for a valued servant like Helena and Thales when they turned fifty or sixty. He might go the trouble of making sure his chief cook had the most modern appliances. But he would probably only have the vaguest idea of the living quarters his indentured servants lived in, and wouldn't ever give them much thought. Seeing that near empty room of Gabrielle's had almost broken my heart, and it made me hope that, as small as the rooms Helena and Thales must inhabit, that they had at least something in them that connected them to other people. Which led to host of other questions like, where did the children of my servants stay? How were they taken care of? What kind of education did they get? I would have to address these and other questions in the near future. For now, it was enough to get that ball rolling in the minds of my two senior servants. I would have to undoubtedly expand on Helena's initial list, but it would be a start. "And me and you, Thales, aren't going to have to have the biggest and best lab you could imagine. It's going to be bigger than you could possibly imagine." Thales just shook his head in disbelief. Helena took this moment to laugh as she stood up, "I'll let you two men get to your doodling. And Thales, I'm trusting you to make sure yours and Mr. Johnson's breakfast don't get cold." Me and Thales chorused, "Yes, ma'am," which made Helena laugh even harder. As she left the room, I heard her chuckle to herself, "Strangest white man I've ever met." Between bites of egg and ham, me and Thales lined out what would be our dream lab, as well as the interim lab on our present property. When Thales asked very deferentially if I could afford all this, I replied, "Don't you worry, Thales. My uncle not only left me a good chunk of change, but I already have my first idea. But I'm going to need you to take me out to the port. Well, after we drop by the bank, that is." A thought had come to me as I had sipped my coffee and thought about bags of coffee beans. I wasn't sure, but I had hunch that this world had never had a Malcom Purcell McLean or his equivalent. His invention alone was sure to pad my bank account enough to let me put my plans into motion. Before Thales could question me about my idea, Helena returned to the dining room. If I had known Helena a little longer, her body language alone would set off alarms in my head. Unfortunately, I was completely oblivious to the warning signs her stance was sending me. Even the neutrality of her tone when she announced that there was a visitor awaiting me in the front parlor didn't alert me. "Mr. Hall did say he would be coming by today," I answered. "Actually, I'm glad he came by. I wanted to see if his firm had a patent lawyer on its staff. I need to make sure me and Thales are covered," I said with a smile to my household electrician. "No, sir, it's not Mr. Hall," Helena said, the grimace never leaving her face. "It's Mr. Whiten, one of your neighbors." "Fred Whiten?" I asked, my eyes immediately focusing on Helena. "Yes, sir, I believe that's Mr. Whiten's Christian name." I should have noticed the distaste in Helena's voice, or the odd way she said 'Christian' when she admitted that Mr. Whiten's first name was Fred. But to be truthful, I was too excited to notice any of these telltale signs. Back in my universe, Fred Whiten was not only my neighbor, he was one of my best friends. I knew it was irrational, since my Fred Whiten couldn't have followed me into this universe, and that the Benjamin Johnson of this universe had probably never even met this universe's Fred Whiten. Still, I felt as if getting to meet this world's Fred Whiten had to be a good omen. Boy, was I in for a rude awakening.