At Silky's
Georgia's eyes adjusted to the light inside the bar. She looked around her but, even as she did so, she realised that it wouldn't do her any good. She was looking for her Master but she really had no idea what he looked like. She had heard his voice and seen his hands and his 'package' on camera but...
***
His orders and her GPS had brought her out here to this place. It didn't look much from the outside though she did notice that it seemed to have had a new coat of paint applied recently. She'd parked up and gone to meet the well-built African American stood at the door. With every step she had examined him more and more closely - wondering if he might be her Master. When he gave her a smile of greeting she felt a wave of desire run through her body. If this was her Master and he wanted her 'hot to trot' then he seriously knew his business.
"You'd be Georgia", his voice was thick with an accent, perhaps West African? At that moment she knew that he wasn't her Master but it also didn't escape her notice that he DID know who she was.
"How do you..."
"Not so many white girls come to Silky's - hardly none that are looking anything like you."
She felt the slight warmth in her cheeks. It never failed to get to her when a hot Black guy showed his interest. Of course her Master must have asked him to keep an eye out for her. He had prepared the way for her and not for the first time.
"Will my car be alright?" She gestured back towards her vehicle.
He gave a little laugh at her naivety. "Don't you know Shaka owns this place? Who's gonna mess with Shaka or his people?"
It hadn't surprised Georgia that she'd been sent to a place like this but she was, after all, just a white girl originally from the South and who'd spent most of her recent years in a leafy suburb. Despite the last few months she still felt a reaction when she found herself in a neighborhood like this one. A year ago she would have run a mile. Now, there was still a frisson of danger but it was mixed with a much more powerful dose of excitement and desire.
The man gestured at the open door. Georgia stepped inside.
***
It was an old-style neighborhood dive. A few booths at the back and a long bar. There were plenty of customers in and the noise of talk and laughter competing with a sound-track of 'contemporary urban.' Georgia realised that she recognised the track - something else she could never have done a year ago.
The racial profile of the bar's occupants didn't surprise her. This was an African-American district of an African-American city. Besides herself there were only three other white folk there. Two were young girls - probably College students - working the bar alongside an aging Black man with an impressive mane of silver-grey hair. Georgia presumed that just HAD to be Silky. The other white was a woman of about her own age. She was perhaps 5' 4" with blonde hair and a good figure, obviously the result of gym work. Georgia's eyes and mind processed all that in a split-second - recognising the other woman as a potential rival after she'd noticed who the woman was with.
The man with her was very dark-skinned and had to stand at least 6' 10". He quite literally stood out from the other men surrounding him but it was more than that. Georgia quickly observed that all the other men were looking at him, listening to him, following his lead. This was, without doubt, an alpha male among alpha males. She couldn't take her eyes off him and noticed that he had finished his story and was smiling quietly as the men around him laughed their appreciation. His hand was casually resting on the white woman's butt. Well of course it was...
Maybe he sensed her staring at him. Either way, he glanced over the heads of his audience and his eyes met hers. His eyebrows flicked up in momentary appreciation and then he smiled at her. It was the smile of a lion noticing a particularly juicy antelope. Georgia felt her mouth go dry. He leaned down and spoke in the woman's ear. Now she was looking at Georgia and she was looking daggers.
Georgia soon found out why. The man broke away from his crowd of admirers and came across to her. All the way his eyes were admiring her and her outfit - selected specially to please her master. She wore a white top held up by shoulder straps that flared down to form covering for each of her breasts. It didn't hide the fact that she was not wearing a bra. It also left her neck, arms and toned stomach exposed. Or they would have been but for the short jacket she was wearing. She wore a tight skirt in purple leather - calculated to show off her legs to their finest. On her feet were a pair of her highest heels encrusted in brilliants. She 'd taken care over her make-up and accessories. She wasn't a vain woman but before setting out that evening a glance in the mirror had told her that she looked damned good. It seemed the alpha male was in agreement.
"I'm Shaka - we haven't met or I'd have remembered. I'm assuming you're Georgia."
Georgia felt a moment's panic. Shaka's voice was deep and powerful but it was most definitely not the voice that she had come to know so well over months of cam sessions. Whoever Shaka was - he was not her Master.
"Errr, pleased to meet you Shaka. I'm here to meet...a friend."
Shaka looked around himself in an exaggerated fashion. "Don't see him nowhere. I think I can help you make lots of new friends." His smile was relaxed - he was in control.
Georgia's heart was bumping in her chest now. "I thought I saw you've already got a friend with you." She nodded towards the other woman - now surrounded by a group of Black men.
His smile was genuine now - he liked the fact she was showing some spirit. "You think I can't please two women in a night?"
Georgia just looked into his eyes. She didn't know what to say. She had no doubts whatsoever that this man was capable of that and a lot more. The thought was exhilarating but she knew that this situation was dangerous. As if to prove the fact she heard a smooth deep brown chocolate voice behind her.
"I see you've met my girl Shaka."
That was the voice she had been listening for ever since she had arrived. It was her Master. She turned and saw him for the first time. He wasn't as tall as Shaka but he was over six feet and just as powerfully-built. His skin was dark but at his wrists and his neck she could see the swirls and patters of intricate tattoo designs. His face showed no ink and had a handsome symmetry to it. Just now, however, his features were set in an expression of serious purpose.
Shaka didn't seem fazed by his appearance. "Now now, Izeye, what's that old saying about finders being keepers. Let me see..." He very carefully looked over Georgia from head to toe and then casually used a hand to flick up the rear of her jacket. He then held it up so Izeye could see the bare skin of Georgia's lower back. "We both know the rules. Don't see no mark on her..."
Georgia suddenly realised that the hum of talk in the bar had gone. She could only hear the music being played. Beyond Izeye she could see the other white woman watching, her eyes wide with shock and also ... could it be fascination?