Introducing: Black Master Olu Ch. 03

"You wanting something, woman?" her master muttered still with his eyes closed.

She came over and kissed his lips. "I was wondering if my master was asleep."

"Hmmm, you sure you were wondering, or was it as you noticed my eyes closed that you thought so?"

"I hope I didn't wake you up."

His eyes came open and he smiled at her. "You've got your hand on my cock, how could I be asleep with that happening?"

"I don't know. You've made be become so cock-hungry, I can't seem to get your black cock out of my mind. Almost every minute, it's all that I think about."

"I'll bet it's what Arnold too is thinking about right now."

"I could divorce him you know," she blurted, finally coming out with a nagging thought that's been in her head since she first got introduced to her master. "All you have to do is say the word, and I'll leave him."

"I don't want you to do that," he said matter-of-factly.

"Why not?" she raised her head to look at him. "I thought ... I thought it's what you'd want."

"No. What I want is you, but what I also want is your happiness. You're not going to have that if you leave him to be with me."

"But I m happy," she pleaded. "Right here, right now, I feel like I'm a different person from the woman you first met that day at your office. It's like I've changed."

"I know you have, and it's good for you." He turned on his right shoulder and held her hands in his. "First time I saw you, you were less than what you are today. You were less than a shadow of what you ought to be. But that's different now. Now, you're a proud white woman and a proud slave to my seed, and that's what I want you to be. Anything further from that and it'll put a damp in my mind for you, and I don't want for that to happen. Your master loves you too much to want that to happen to you."

"But wouldn't my master wish for me to remain by his side always?"

"He would, yes. But Arnold too needs you to be by his side, and I didn't come into this to get between both of you."

"What if it's what I want¬—to keep being with you?"

"You'll end up being unhappy, Becca. Not only that, you'll end up regretting it."

Becca felt hurt by his words. She turned around to face the other side of the bed, not wanting him to see the tears that were about to slip from her eyes. Olu reached for her arm and turned her over and kissed her.

"Don't cry," he said, and when that didn't work, applied a harsh tone to his voice. "Come on, I said don't cry, bitch!" he gave her cheek a light slap that seemed to drive home his seriousness. "You'd better choke down those tears or else I'm going to get rough on your ass right now, girl!" he raised his palm about to strike her once again and Becca hurriedly brought her crying to a sudden stand still.

"I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, master." She choked down on her tears. "I didn't mean to act sour ... just that I feel you're not going to want me anymore."

He got up from the bed, not saying a word, and went towards the door leading to the living room. Becca became afraid that she'd seriously offended him and was about getting up too, wanting to ask if anything was wrong. Olu turned, scowling, and pointed a finger at her and told her to remain where she was. Becca obeyed, and then he disappeared into the living room. He wasn't gone for long. He returned with a small box in his hand and he came and lay on the former place he'd been beside her.

"Let me see your ring," he said to her.

Becca gave him her hand which bore her sliver wedding band. Olu pulled the ring off from her finger and opened up the box he was carrying and took out a white-coated ring from inside. The ring bore some minute inscription and symbolism around it.

"The Yoruba god Shango during his lifetime had three wives," said Olu. "They were named Oya, Osun, and Oba. Of the three of them, his favorite was Osun, and one of his favorite colors was white, which is the reason for this ring." He slipped the ring through her finger. "This ring is my status symbol that links your heart with mine. You're to have it on you for as long as you're with me; when you're back in merry England, you can then decide to take it off and wear what Arnold gave you, but only if you wish. Before you leave, I'm going to teach you a lot about where I'm from, and also teach you how to cook some Nigerian cuisine, because that was one of the reasons why Osun was Shango's favorite. As long as you're with me, and you're wearing my ring, consider yourself married to me."

Becca was speechless. She rubbed her finger over the ring looking as if she was spellbound by it. For a minute she couldn't find the words to say to express what she deeply felt inside for her master, her lover. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and fell upon him with kisses.

"Oh master!" she purred. "I'm so in love with you, master!"

Olu laughed, trying to stem down her kisses. "That's what you ought to have said instead of crying."

"I'm sorry I did that, really I am. I was just afraid you weren't going to need me anymore."

He held her back. "Nonsense. You're here with me right now, that speaks for something. And besides, this is just the beginning. I've still got plans for your adventure."

"Really? I'm so excited. Mind giving me a hint?"

"Uh-Uh, no. I don't give hints, only surprises. And besides, I wasn't lying before when I said that you're going to spread the word more about your master and of what he's capable of to other white women out there. There's a whole sea of white women out in the world who too are just as brainwashed as you once where. A lot of them do want to experience what the black man has got to offer, but society and the background in which they live in is what's scaring them from acting out on their fantasies. You're going to change some of that. Next time you return to Nigeria, with or without Arnold by your side, you're going to bring along some white girls with you. Don't care if they're your sisters, cousins, or neighbors. You're going to bring them here and introduce them to what I've introduced you to. You think you're going to be up for that?"

She looked at him with surprise in her eyes. To Becca it was like being given the Holy Grail and tasked with taking it back to the Holy Land. It was an offer she would never dare herself to let go of. Who was she to refuse her master?

"Your wish is my demand, master," she kissed him. "Anything you want of me, I promise to give."

"That's good to know and hear, my darling. It's why I don't ever want you to leave Arnold. Believe me, I'll be hurt if I hear that you have."

"I won't leave him, that I promise you." She came and laid her head on his chest. But I will do so without hesitation if ever you should ask me to, she mused to herself, though she didn't dare say it out. She looked at her ring one more time before returning her head to her master's chest and falling asleep. Though just before the sleep took her away, a throbbing thought echoed through her mind: If it comes to me making a choice between the master and Arnold, whom would I REALLY choose?

**********

At 5:16p.m., a blue Pajero jeep drove into the gates of the Protea Hotel. The occupant parked the vehicle in the area marked for visitors and then got out. The woman was tall and dark-skinned, though she was more light chocolate. Her hair was done in a similar style as that of the R n B singer Rihanna. She was wearing a leather outfit and black skirt with knee-length black boots with a handbag hanging from her shoulder; a pair of sunglasses sat on her nose, and her hands were shielded in a pair of black gloves. As she walked into the hotel's open doors, an aura of feral sexual enticement seemed to trail along with her, the way she walked like a lioness comfortable in her terrain of jungle. Several faces hovering about the lobby turned to glance at her direction but neither thought of approaching her; the look on her face seemed to dissuade anyone from trying. Even the young man who acted as concierge for the day seemed to nearly lose his stride when she came towards his desk and enquired about the occupants of Room 762. She already knew who would be up there as she was being expected.

Into the elevator she went and rode to the top floor. She arrived at her destination less than two minutes later after which she walked down the corridor to the room door she sought. She knocked on it and folded her arms across her chest and waited. A voice could be heard from the other side of the door yelling: "Coming!" A key turned in the door and then it came open to reveal the occupant inside—a pretty red-haired white woman wearing nothing but a towel that was wrapped across her chest. The happy look that was apparent on the white woman's face immediately died off when her pair of eyes took in the figure of the black woman who right now mysteriously stood before her door staring back at her. A minute seemed to pass between them with neither exchanging any word till finally the white woman became impatient.

"Yes, may I help you?" asked Becca Coltrane.

TO BE CONTINUED ...