Southern Delights Ch. 01

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Man finds himself in the Confederacy of an Alternate World.
3.6k words
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Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 10/29/2008
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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I knew something was wrong when the media/internet center in my suite had been replaced by a TV that looked like it was from the 1950's. At first I thought I was dreaming, and turned it on.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."

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