MY MADAM AND I…(18+)…Part 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
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
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 groin protruding under my


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