[Story] My Madam And I Part 1

1

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 1

 

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.

 

 

Mr’s 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 she’s half taller than a

midget, yet you dare not look pass it for your own

safety.

 

 

She’s 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, ” is that part of my job? ” I asked in

astonishment, the reply I got startled me. ”

everything is your job here !” she said in outrage.

“Naija my country” , 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 ” it’s part of your job! if you don’t like it quit!

thousands are waiting out there for your job! “.

Gossip has it that she killed 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 “madam

wants to speak with you” I was overwhelmed with

an overloaded panic attack that I tamed with all the

will power I can gather. ” hello ma” went my gentle

 

voice. As usual the authoritative voice that I am yet

to get use to commanded. ” come to the house

right now! ” 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

haven’t 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 don’t fit in her

spec. She has completely fried my brain to believe

that I am of the class, ‘minus zero’.

 

 

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.

” Please I need a massage “. I walked up to her

like a zombie in my bewilderment thinking what

she’s 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 ass. I remained

motionless lost in the shock of the episode playing

before me until her bossy voice shook me from my

trans ” what is wrong with you this boy? ! will you

do what I asked you to before I get angry at

you?!”

 

 

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 ”

up” and her r 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 ”

are you mad?! do you think am down with your

naive pretence of a good boy? do not get me

angry now, will you do what I asked you to?”. 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.

 

[Story] My Madam And I Part 2

1 COMMENT

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here