Chapter 3: Lesson 1

I RAN TO THE big house as fast as I could while holding the buckets of water. The buckets swished from side to side, knocking some liquid out, but I did not stop. Thanks to the moon and the porch lights, it was easier to find the returning path than the one to the well. Also, the various field slaves wondering about helped, too. Many of them were still relaxing after a day’s worth of labor.

My fingers almost gave out when I finally saw the house in the distance. I panted, breathing heavily from hauling all that water from such a distance. Stopping, I place both buckets down to give myself a break.

“Ya need help there?” A male voice called out to me. Walking toward me was a male slave; he was only wearing some brown trousers with his muscular chest exposed. On top of his head was a bush of brown curls, and his skin color was similar to mine; it was apparent either a white man or white woman helped to conceive him. He had a muscular chest, which told me he was one of the brawny slaves on the plantation. A smile extended on his lips as he stopped in front of me.

“No lady should be carrin' buckets,” he said as he extended a hand to take them.

Up close, his brown eyes stared into my own, reading my expression.

I shook my head. “It’s all right.” I wrapped my fingers around the handles again and picked up the water. “I need to get going,” I said in a rush as I hurried off.

“My name is Isaac!” He shouted out.

Isaac, I made a note in my mind to remember his name.

As I approached the house, I saw Amos leaning against a beam on the porch. He frowned his brows, and I prepared myself for punishment.

“Where were you?” He said as he lifted his body and ascended the staircase.

My body shook from the fear creeping up on me. In a rush, I said, “I got lost and fell.”

His green eyes studied me until they dropped to my bottom lip. He brushed a finger across the wound; I flinched at the touch, thinking he would physically hurt me.

“You bruised those beautiful lips,” he said as he rubbed them. He sighed. “Get to the kitchen and have them heat the water. Then go upstairs to my room and take off your clothes,” he ordered, his voice annoyed.

I nodded and wondered what he planned to do with me. I quickly entered the house and walked through the hallways, looking for the kitchen. Finally, after making many twists and turns, I found the kitchen. Two slaves sat at a wooden table in the center of the kitchen, covered in flour as they pounded yeast.

“Abigail, why we have to prep breakfast now?” One of the slaves whined. She was younger than Abigail and a bit lighter, too. No wrinkles were on her face, and she was dressed in a similar dress with an apron and bonnet. Her dress was pink with white squares, with a matching bonnet. Like Abigail, I couldn’t see any hair escaping her cap.

“Hush up, now; you know mistress wants bread and butter first thing in the mornin’. Finish up the bread now means less work in the mornin’,” Abigail insisted as she continued to pound into the limp dough.

Unsure of what to do, I stood there, gawking at them with the two buckets in my head. Eventually, the younger slave looked at me and asked, “Is she new? I suppose Amos got a new to–”

“Ya shut yer mouth, ya hear, Liz!” Abigail scolded her.

After she yelled at Liz, she shifted her gaze to me and asked, “What your name, girl?”

“Ada,” I answered softly, hoping I could begin to form relationships with the other slaves in the house. My Mother always told me it was good to learn about the other slaves, especially the ones in the house.

“Leave the water. I heat it and bring it to the room,” she said as she wiped her hands on her apron and lifted from the chair.

“Go on, girl, you never keep Amos waitin’,” she teased, laughing.

I blinked at her, not knowing what was so funny. I knew slaves talked, and house slaves knew the most as they were the closest to the family. I ignored her mocking me for now and put the buckets on the floor.

“Turn right, go straight, then left. Staircase is there,” Abigail said as she walked over to the buckets and picked one up.

I nodded and turned on my heel; Liz’s laughter still echoed behind me. I did not know what was funny, but like with any new life on a plantation, I would learn over time.

I followed Abigail’s directions and went up the staircase, following the same path to Amos’ room. I knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” He called out from behind the door.

“Ada,” I answered, and he quickly opened the door, grabbed my arm, and pulled me in.

His golden-brown hair was pulled back, hanging down his back.

“I dropped the water off in the kitchen. Abigail said she would heat it and bring it up.”

“Good girl, Ada,” he said as he pressed his lips to my forehead and cupped my cheek with one hand. “Now go to the tub, remove your clothes, and bathe yourself when the water arrives. Do not put your clothes back on when you’re done,” he ordered.

To his words, my heart thumped against my chest. What is he planning? I stared at him, fear filling my body.

As if noticing, he picked up my arm and said, “I’m not going to hurt you. We’re just going to do lesson number one today. Now go on.” He pulled me over to the tub in the corner next to the commode.

I didn’t know what to say. My beating chest didn’t stop, and my tongue went dry. My Mother had warned me about this, but Amos said he wouldn’t hurt me. She told me my new master might hold down, enter me, and force himself on me. If that did happen, I needed to prepare for a baby and for the mistress in the house to hate me, but as long as I kept my master happy, then I would be protected; it didn’t work out well for my mother, as my sister and I had to deal with my father’s wife. She would glare at us, scold us, or, worst yet, hit us. At least being house slaves, we didn’t have to worry about the overseers in the fields.

Before I could take off my clothes, I heard a knock on his bedroom door. Abigail’s voice rang into my ears. Amos opened the door and directed her to the tub. She walked inside and glanced at me before going to the white tub and pouring the steaming liquid into it. Next to the tub was a small wooden table with a cloth, soap, and a bigger cloth.

Light from the various candles around the room flickered, illuminating the area around the tub and bed. After Abigail was done, she didn’t say anything, but I didn’t miss her concerned look. She dipped her head and took the pots with her. As she struggled to leave the room, it showed more of her age. She walked, slightly hunched over. She must have been a slave here for a long time, so she would be a good person to learn from. She shut the door behind her before glancing at me one last time.

Then, Amos said, “I will not look at you, but do not take long.” He left the bedroom, leaving me alone in the large room.

This situation was so strange to me. My Mother never told me of a master bathing his slave, let alone giving them privacy. I sighed, slipping the straps of the dress off my shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. I stepped into the warm water, letting it wash over my ankles. The heat against my skin felt nice, and I couldn’t remember the last time I bathed in a tub of water. Back home, Mother used an old basin my father didn’t need anymore. Most of our bathing was with old rags and leftover soap from the big house. Between Amos and Clyde, the life I was preparing for was turning into something different from what I expected.

I bent down and settled into the tub, letting the warm liquid cover my body. What is going to happen to me? I thought about Clyde. He wasn’t normal; something was off about him, and when he bit me, something ached throughout my body, but it wasn’t painful; it felt good.

I brushed my lips with a finger, remembering his touch on my skin. I wanted to feel him again, and I didn’t know why. Whatever he did to me made heat spread through me from the area between my legs.

“Are you almost done?” Amos called out.

Amos! I quickly grabbed the rag and washed from my neck to my chest to my center and then down my legs.

“Yes,” I responded as I finished and got out of the tub, grabbing the bigger cloth. I dried myself and wrapped it around my body.

Soon, he walked back through the bedroom door, locked it, and stared at my exposed skin. He rushed over to me and eyed me from head to toe.

“Drop the cloth, Ada. We should not keep any secrets from each other,” he said, and I knew I already had one from him.

I didn’t want to expose myself to him, but I didn’t want to anger him. Fear ran through me, but I did as he said and slowly lowered the towel. My breasts popped out, and then my bottom half was naked. My mother always complained that one reason my father liked her body was that her breasts were bigger than my father’s wife. So when she saw I shared the same trait, she worried even more for me. A cold breeze then blew across the room, causing me to shudder.

He stepped back and looked at me all over. I tried to cover my chest, but he stopped me and shook his head. I knew there was no point in fighting him, so I lowered my sight to the wooden floor and let him have his way. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, so I didn’t want to incur his anger.

“Beautiful.” He brushed his fingers over my chest and ran his other hand down my arm. “I knew you would be perfect as soon as I saw you. Your father wanted to keep you for himself, but he needed to sell you, thanks to his debt. He did not even brand you. I suppose he did not want to ruin this soft skin,” he said as he continued to roam his hand around my body. I shivered from his chill touch against my skin as my eyes widened at what he said.

I didn’t know my father had money trouble. If that was the case, my sister and mother weren’t safe. When family members were sold, many never saw them again. Mama was old, and her chances of being sold were small, but my sister was young, only fourteen years old. If a master wanted to bed her, she would fetch a high price. I couldn’t just think about freedom for myself; my mother and sister also needed to be free. At that moment, I decided to do everything I could to go up north with my family.

I didn’t dare ask questions and kept my gaze on the wooden floor.

“Get on the bed and spread your legs,” he ordered; his tone was cold. “For your first lesson, you will learn how to touch yourself.”

Touch myself. What is that?

I knew there was no point in fighting him, so I did as he asked. I positioned myself on the bed, spreading my legs for him. His lips turned into an upwards grin, and I braced myself for whatever would happen next.

“Put your hand in between your legs and rub yourself. Do not stop until I tell you to, understand?”

What is he asking me to do? I didn’t understand his request but did as I was told. My fingers dug into the hair below my waist, but Amos moved my hand lower and parted the skin until I touched something small and squishy.

“Rub there,” he said, but I was so confused by his request that I stayed dumbfounded. “What did I say, Ada?” His voice was laced with anger.

I closed my eyes, holding back my tears, and did as he said. Heat spread through my body as I rubbed myself, and what I started to feel was like when Clyde bit me. It was different, warm, and pleasurable. Images of his golden hair and water-colored eyes filled my mind. He was like a half demon, half angel, a mix between dark and light. He threw me to the ground, bit me, and promised me freedom. I wanted to learn more about him and was eager to ask him questions. He even apologized for hurting me, which not even my father ever did.

As I kept thinking about him and rubbing, I let out a sound I had never made before.

“Keep going, Ada, moan for me,” Amos said, snapping me from my thoughts, but I couldn’t see him. My vision was dark, and I could only think about the strange man who promised me freedom and pressed his lips to mine. It felt good, so good. I kept going as moistness leaked onto my fingers, making them slick. Another new sound escaped my lips as I remembered his bite that sparked a fire in me.

The better it felt, the more I rubbed myself. I kept going, faster and faster. The sensations coming from within me rocked my body, and I didn't want to stop. Amos groaned and was speaking, but I ignored it. Whatever was happening to my body built up and caused me to scream. A new enjoyment I had never felt rocked me, causing my body to feel limp. I panted and opened my eyes. Amos’ cock was in his hand, pointed over my stomach. He stroked it up and down, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he kept going until liquid squirted out, landing on my stomach.

“S...top... s-stop,” he stammered, still panting. He collapsed onto my body, and his chest was pressed against my breasts. His warm breath hit my neck, and he laced his fingers with mine.

I shuddered and raised my arms to push him off, but before I could, he kissed my lips quickly and said, “You did well with lesson number one. You learned to touch yourself. Now, clean up and go to sleep.” He removed his hand, rolled off me, pulled up his pants, and zipped them up.

In shock, I lay there, not knowing what to think. My heart beat in my chest; I was confused. What I just felt was what Clyde did, but it was different. I lifted off the bed and used the rag to wipe Amos’ liquids off me. I hurried and dressed again but stood, waiting for any further instructions.

“Go to bed, Ada. Tomorrow morning you will join us for breakfast.” He smiled at me, satisfied with whatever had occurred between us. He then removed his shirt and pulled down the sheet on the bed. Before slipping under the sheets, he walked over to each candle and blew out the flames. The room slowly became dark, with the only light coming from under my bedroom door.

“Okay.” That’s all I managed to say as I walked up to my bedroom door and opened it. I didn't understand what he meant when he said I would join them for breakfast. Slaves didn't eat with their master and mistress, so I had to wait to see what he was referring to. I walked into the small, windowless bedroom and closed the door. I blew out the candle on the dresser and got into bed.

My new life at the Evans plantation was so strange to me. I thought about everything that had happened, wondering what tomorrow would bring. I still didn’t know what Amos asked me to do, but I felt happy when I thought about Clyde. I wanted to learn more about him and what he was. My mother would be ashamed if she knew I had such impure thoughts about a white man, but as I closed my eyes, I drifted off to sleep, thinking about my demon mixed angel on top of me, pressing his lips to mine. Only one day was left until our next meeting, and I wondered what would happen between us.