My Madam And I Chapter 1
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π©ββ€οΈβπ¨ My Madam And I Chapter One:
It all started as a joke, I thought I was dreaming until I felt it so loud I thought I saw stars as I tried to recover from the blindness that took some ample seconds to recover from.
Mrs Amaka is the name, the name I can never forget in a hurry, the name that sends chill down my marrow. She has this sophisticated aura, and a very bossy personality that can never be taken for granted. Even though sheβs half taller than a midget, yet you dare not look pass it for your own safety.
Sheβs indeed a boss who commands chains of businesses and over 500 workers lurking around her payroll. Everyone under her has automatically sold his or self esteem to her swift fingers and well organized insults.
Barely can one work under this atmosphere without resigning, save those without options. I remember when I first met her, my boss to be, I thought my good looks and charm that can soften even the devil himself could cloud me from her claws, even though I was hinted about her talent, how can I decline an offer after years of living with just my credentials as the only thing I have achieved.
I remember her scrutinizing me with a piecing rays of contempt in her eyes, and sarcastically trowing words at me that made me overly self conscious.
After what seem like an hour with the devil I was finally given the job.
My first day was kind of easy, thanks to my understanding colleagues who covered my unseen errors every now and then. Though it was a shopping mall with all sections well stocked with imported goods, and being a second class upper graduate of Business admin, I was subjected to the lowest grade of sales personnel, though it never bothered me that my manager is a secondary school holder all I cared about was my end of the month pay.
One day, my boss asked me to go and fix her apartment, β is that part of my job? β I asked in
astonishment, the reply I got startled me. βeverything is your job here !β she said in outrage.
βNaija my countryβ , I said in my heart. Thinking of how long I borrowed and begged for recharge card money I decided to swallow my degree and follow her home.
Her house speaks money in every inch of what is classy and sophisticated. I was asked to do her laundry and that of her over sized three girls who looked more like mama Iyabo than under twenties that they were. How I swallowed my pride thinking of how hard it is to get another job. It took me close to the whole day to finish, of which no thanks was returned for my labor let alone a tip, who dash monkey banana.
After that day, subsequently I was asked to do some degrading and emasculating chores with a lash of β itβs part of your job! if you donβt like it quit! thousands are waiting out there for your job! β.
Gossip has it that she ki*lled her husband to be able to gain hold on his wealth. The man who was said to be an oil magnet and a big time business man overseas. But how is that my concern since I barely listen to gossip.
One very faithful afternoon, I was thinking about how badly my life had turned out, not knowing the turn fate was hatching until my CO worker rushed to me with her phone in hand and said βmadam wants to speak with youβ I was overwhelmed with an overloaded panic attack that I tamed with all the will power I can gather. β Hello maβ went my gentlevoice. As usual the authoritative voice that I am yet
to get use to commanded. β come to the house right now! β and she hung up.
I got to the house thinking of what manner of image tarnishing chores has she cooked up. Her voice called from upstairs, that part of the house I havenβt visited but was about to. I traced the beckoning voice, and it finally led to her bed room.
It was more of a top class, five star hotel, than just a room. She was lying on her oversized bed clad in her silky transparent nightie. My mind spoke the truth but I shook it aside coz I felt I donβt fit in her spec. She has completely fried my brain to believe that I am of the class, βminus zeroβ.
There I was and there she was staring at me as though I was her favorite movie. At last she sat
up, took up an ointment and said in a different and rather soothing tone that has never come from her.
βPlease I need a massageβ. I walked up to her like a zombie in my bewilderment thinking what sheβs got up her sleeve. I took the ointment from her, and she stretched on the bed facing down, and unclad her fair large legs that were blessed with folded skin and rough patches as a result of excess fat with thick blue vains up to the extent that I could see a part of her a*ss. I remained motionless lost in the shock of the episode playing before me until her bossy voice shook me from my trans β what is wrong with you this boy?! will you
do what I asked you to before I get angry at you?!β
I took from the ointment and spread my fingers on her massive thighs, following the instructions of her fingers, exacted as much pressure needed. And then I heard her say something that looks like β upβ and her fingers pointing just below her ass, I withdrew my fingers, stood back in shock. She turned and said to me in her usual malicious tone βare you ma*d?! do you think I’m down with your naive pretence of a good boy? do not get me angry now, will you do what I asked you to?β. I said nothing but did as I was told. Even though I saw her as the last woman that can arouse me, that minute I felt my g—n protruding under my
pants.
TO BE CONTINUED
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