It's the Girl from Before V 2

I guess I'm rewriting the entire story now, don't know why I just started writing a while ago (plus I kinda wrote myself into a corner with the original)

Turning around to see who it is, you are shocked to see that same woman from an hour ago jogging towards you. She comes to a quick stop directly in front of you and holds up a very expensive-looking winter coat. She is sweating profusely and breathing heavily, under a thick winter coat of her own, complete with a hat and gloves.

You stare at her in complete confusion, unsure if you should take the coat or not, but after one more ice-cold gust of wind, you quickly snatch that coat right out of her hands and slide it on. Instantly you feel a new wave of warmth overcome your body, it’s not much, but even the smallest luxury is appreciated right now.

“Does it fit Sir?” Asks the strange woman in front of you.

‘Uhh yes it fits perfectly, thanks miss, uhh, what's your name?” you ask still trying to process what's going on. After hearing your question The Woman stands at attention and quickly answers.

“It’s Sarah, sir, Sarah Banks,”

Slightly put off by the way and speed with which she answered, you pause for a moment and look the young lady up and down. Now that you really look at her, she is quite an attractive piece of dark meat. You kinda wish you hadn’t told her to put on more clothes… wait, why the hell did she change clothes for me?

“Uhh Okay, Thank you, Sarah… I see you changed clothes just like I asked” you respond

“Yes, I assumed you wanted me to dress warmer, so I picked this out. If you don’t like it I can go change again” Sarah explained very matter of factly like she was reporting to her boss. This only confuses you more, and you start to wonder if this is some strange abstract prank.

“No, No that's fine, that outfit is fine,” You say, lightly waving your hand. Sarah smiles at you before asking

“Okay good, would you like anything else?”

“Well, a bite to eat would be nice.” You say, not really expecting much, but still slightly hopeful based on how kind she has been to you so far.

“Okay, do you want me to bring you something from any specific place, or do you want to dine in somewhere?” You are so shocked you can barely form another sentence.

You stare at the mocha-colored women in front of you, for a full minute in utter confusion. You decide it's better to just ask her bluntly.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you told me to.” Sarah responds, looking like you asked her for the color of the sky. Her answer and the way in which she delivered it, bring out the same feeling of anger that you felt when she first spoke to you earlier that day.

“So do you just do whatever any hobo on the street tells you to?!” You lash out in frustration. Sarah takes a nervous step backward, she looks scared to have possibly offended you.

“No sir, of course not. You’re the only person who I follow orders from, sir… well, you and my boss, but your orders will always come first, Sir” She responds nervously, hoping to clear up any confusion. It doesn’t work at all, leaving you more confused and irritated. You look at Sarah like she is completely insane. Is this some sick joke? Is this the latest internet trend, prank the homeless man!?”

“Are you retarded or something?” You bluntly ask Sarah without even the slightest hint of shame. She looks visibly offended and shocked at your bluntness but tries her best to maintain her composure.

“No Sir, I am not… mentally disabled” she responds with a fake polite tone.

“But you take orders from some dirty hobo you just met on the street?” You retort with a snarky grin. This line of questioning stresses Sarah out as she struggles to explain the situation to you.

“Yes, Sir I do, I don’t really understand what you want me to say.” She sighs. You get right up in her face, as you stare right into this woman’s soul and tell her.

“I want you, to tell me, why you’re doing, all of this charity bullshit for some homeless man who you don’t even know!”

Sarah steps back and is so shaken by your sudden coldness that she stumbles in her response.

“Because- because I’m a black Woman Sir, you own me. And as your property, I have to do whatever you say.” Sarah faltered, closing her eyes to deal with the humiliation. It takes you 30 full seconds to fully process the insanity that just came out of her mouth.

“What the actual hell are you- Oh I get it, the Black Woman is the property of the southern white man very funny,” You say with a fake laugh waiting for some camera crew to come out and reveal that this was all a big prank. Now it was Sarah’s turn to look confused.

“It's not a joke sir, as a black woman, you own me and all of my properties and possessions, ” Sarah explains with complete seriousness. You are completely shocked that she is this committed to the bit.

“So… You’re my ****,” You place extra emphasis on the word, just saying it makes you feel powerful, even if you don’t believe it to be true.

“YES EXACTLY, I'M YOUR ****!” She exclaims with relief that you finally seem to understand.

Once again giving her sexy body a look down, you know exactly what you would do if you had her at your disposal. But this is obviously some disgusting joke or setup trying to condemn you for being a racist sexist monster, and you couldn’t have that. You continue to stare uncomfortably at her body (Which Sarah takes immediate notice of and recoils in disgust) while trying to think of some way to push this without making yourself look bad.

Wait didn’t she say, I own her properties and possessions? you think to yourself, and being the selfish man of poor ethics that you are, (and not having much more to lose) you take a shot in the dark.

“Okay then Sarah, I have a new request for you,”

“What is it, Sir?” Sarah responds. As you say your following request you bend over and grab your change can.

“Judging by those pricy-looking running shoes you’ve got, I’d bet you’ve got a decent amount of cash." You bend down and grab up your change can, before continuing. "And If I own all of your possessions and properties, then would you please give me my money,” You shake the cup side to side, the small amount of change clinking around inside. Sarah looks like you just sucked the life out of her. Inside she wanted nothing more than to laugh in this condescending hobo’s face and leave him in his piss-stained pants, but she just couldn’t do it.

“Okay Sir,” Sarah sighs deeply as she reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out a very fancy-looking wallet. She pulls out what must be $300 in cash, and places it into the cup. You can’t believe your eyes, it's more money than you’ve made in the last six months. It was so much that the cup was practically overflowing. You really hope that this is actually real, but how could this possibly be happening to you?

Suddenly a memory floods into your brain, as if brought on by some otherworldly ****. A memory you haven’t thought of in decades. You remember as a young boy talking to your great-grandmother before she died. She whispered to you, a story about her own grandfather. How he was a struggling farmer before the Civil War, Who made a deal with a bayou witch to gain ownership of all black women he met. But that’s just a legend, isn’t it?

Time to find out