The next day I awake and prepare my mind for the tasks that Shara will have for me and the instructions that I will receive from Master. I'm still confused about why I'm here and what I will get out of it. So far things have changed by the hour and there is no set schedule. In my old life, there was always a set schedule. So much has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I can barely contain myself in this house. I feel like I'm never alone in this house. The only time I'm truly alone is when I'm asleep. Even then green eyes haunt my dream and find myself waking up sweating.
Its early morning and I'm in Master's house, upstairs, nude, and being inspected by Shara. She says I need to eat more, but I've always been this size. I know that most women have bought in to the ideals of the media, but I just bought into how healthy I feel as myself. Shara isn't much bigger than me and I wonder if it is Master who has said I need to eat more. For a moment, I think about wanting to please him even if that means gaining a few extra pounds.
"Master requests your presence for lunch," she says slightly annoyed. Her hands go to my hair and she is practically yanking it from its roots. She tells me that Master prefers my hair straight and she applies every skill necessary to keep it that way. Her hair is a long straight line down her back which is a mixture of all the different heritages that make her.
I imagine a young Shara being friends with a young Renee. We would both never fathom a world where white men would create a plantation out of thin air and control young black women. We would play on swings in a yard and never think for a moment that we would be oppressing ourselves to be someone else's fantasy.
I'm beginning to read Shara's mood more often. She is jealous and I wonder if she would be just as jealous as little Shara. I don't know what she has to be jealous of, she is beautiful. Not only is she beautiful, but she was here first. Shara is well-built with a slender waist which is accented by her height. She practically towers over a small woman like me. Her eyes are light hazel, but still urban in shape. She isn't busty, but her ample hips make up for it. She is shaped like the typical black woman in Hollywood and she has a Hollywood personality to match. She even dresses nice which I believe is the luxury of being able to dress herself. I wonder if over time I'll have more freedom.
"Why did you come here?" I ask slowly.
"The same reason we all do," she responds, "we search for something."
Shara touches me lightly on the arm causing a parallel of goose pimples along my arm. Fingertips brush against my collar bone and for a moment I think about looking up at her. I can't look at her though. There is something about her chastise touch that makes me not want to look at her. I wonder if there is something there. I wonder if there is an offer of her friendship or is there something more. I'm imagining things surely. I'm so desperate for some form of human connection, that it has circumvented sexuality. I have been thinking about what I might be pushed to do next. I take a deep breath at the thought.
She's right in more than one way. I came for answers, but in the process my search has been expanded from a reporter's curiosities, to a woman's curiosities. I'm a black woman pretending to be a slave but the line of pretending is blurring. Sometimes I feel like I should run for the hills, but other times I find myself enjoying the sensations. Master's brother in another world could even be considered charmingly dangerous. I've always been attracted to the bad boys and Michael is as bad as they come.
Master's brother Michael, had watched me in a very intimate moment. He had motivated me on to let him inside my brain instead of my body. There was something there in the way that he watched me and didn't once move to touch me. When I was on the edge of cumming, I found myself wanting him to touch me. I had touched myself feeling the skin within me moisten and swell to my fingers. The fact that he watched me had become reflective. He was the mirror to my inner most feelings and emotions. Exploding over my own fingers, I had thought of him replacing them with his own. I had cum for him. I could do what he asked for ever. I get wet just thinking of the moments with him.
Sure, he is dangerous, but I liked him in a way. I think every girl has some form of attraction to danger. I liked the way his hand barely brushed my hip as I jarred them into position. He had a way with emptiness as he fills it with himself. I think of him filling me with himself. I could feel myself becoming a maddening animal hoping to cum all over my spent fingertips just one more time for him before he traveled off to some nameless war. My muscled flexed and I had to muffle and exasperated sound with my other hand. He remained silent next to me, but he never took his eyes off of me. His silence was louder than any noise I've ever heard. He had the ability to become sight and sound all rolled into one.
"Are you ready?" Shara asks bringing me back through space and time. I stare past her and into the mirror behind her. Her standing behind me in the mirror says so much, I am eclipsing her. I am eclipsing myself.
I look at the black doll in the mirror staring back at me. I am no longer the tom boy that excelled in the male world and relished on being better than all the boys at their sports. My painted lips and curled hair is something out of a magazine. Confusion crosses my face for a millisecond. I feel the most pretty as someone else's reflection of what I should look like.
"I'm ready," I announce following her from the room.
The house is bigger than it seemed when walking up. Most of it is colored in white walls and gray floors. There is something boring about the house even though it is slightly shrouded in darkness. I don't see Michael or the kid from yesterday. There is a woman singing down the hall who I assume is the wife. If they ever have me picking cotton, then I'm running far away.
Shara has noticed me as I notice all the things surrounding me, but she doesn't say anything. She never says anything when it is relevant. She seems like the perfect lackey as she never questions, but always manages to make a stand in one direction or the other. I wonder what she was like before this life, she hasn't given much up. She is smart enough to have had a career and pretty enough to have someone at home waiting for her.
I follow her walking in stride behind her confident walk. She knows the house really well which surprises me unless she has signed on for multiple months in this house. I know that once my month is up, I'm heading home never to be heard from again. Shara on the other hand, seems at home here. We head down stairs to what is a circular well-lit room off to the corner of the house. Shara opens the wooden doors and steps aside so I can take a good look inside.
"Come in Renee," Master beckons me. He stands juxtaposed against the daylight in all his glorious darkness. His suit is black and a little dusty from whatever he was doing before out impromptu lunch date.
He stands poised on his cane across the stark white room next to a pale white couch. Lunch they told me, but I see no meal in site. I guess I'm to be Master's meal, the perfect food to compliment his hungry appetite.
The room is completely empty except for the looming mountain of a man and the placid couch. Shara exits as I enter. She doesn't look at me and I make a conscious decision not to look at her. She never even greets her Master as she leaves the room. Instead, all of the attention is placed where it needs to be placed, on Master. He stares at me like a piece of meat.
