Toto Series: Nobody Is Off Limits

Toto Series - That's your problem

No body is off limit

If na by your argument then everybody go enter hell so make everybody getaaat!”

“Don’t take this too personal. All she is saying is that some things are off-limits and seducing a pastor is one of them.”

“What do you mean by taking things too personal? Person dey talk rubbish about my person and you are saying I should not take it too personal? So suddenly you people know some things should be off-limits but you are servicing your boss, his boss and his brother because you want promotion. Miss don’t touch my anointed here who is allowing her lecturers touch everything, shey those ones no dey off-limit na single man wey no even get babe wey I talk say I want don suddenly turn off-limits because him na pastor? Pastors no dey fuck?”

You see why I do not like living with girls ba. Them go just wake up begin find wetin no loss. We were at breakfast before Sunday service and I mentioned how I would love Pastor Michael to spread me like bread and insert his penis like Akara on a cold Sunday morning like this one so we go cum make hot pap as breakfast na im these cackling witches turn angels begin dey tell me rubbish say as I wan make pastor sin, I go get better mansion for hell complete with AC and bodyguard.

Wo! Make everybody getttaaaatt!!! and you see that pastor Mike, I must fuck am.

Ever since pastor mike resumed at Tabernacle of glories church international Guzape, three months ago; attendance had quadrupled for the 8:00am service. Service wey former pastor dey beg make people attend before, now people no dey see place siddon.

Every Sunday people trooped to church wearing their Sunday best, literally. To be fair, not everybody was there to catch a glance at him. Apart from being drop-dead gorgeous, pastor mike was on fire for the lord. One hour of listening to him felt like 10 seconds. He was charming, charismatic and knew the word of God. He was transferred from Portharcout and based on gist sha, e be like dem send am come Abuja to avoid belle scandal. I guess they figured Abuja babes eye don too tear.

My plan to seduce him was set in motion. No be those kind Nigerian feem own wey you go see person wey wan seduce pastor dey dress Mary Amaka or Delilah. No. You have to find balance. Not too sprikoko and not totally street. Balance. Working in the sales and marketing sector in Lagos opens your eyes to how to approach various clients and how to make them patronize you. If you enter places like V I, Lekki and co, na queens English get you except for those wey been grow from street wey want make you relate with them unto that level. Then when you enter Mushin, Ikorodu, Festac etc dem na area!.

For somebody like pastor Mike, it is obvious he knows he is fine and is conscious of the attention he gets. The idea is not to drown in the sea of mindless fans. During revival week, after a particularly intense session,  pastor Mike called for those who wished to rededicate themselves to God to come forth to the alter. Everybody came out except me. I stayed in my seat right there at the front pew as the whole congregation were gyrating and exhibiting being filled with the spirit. He looked at me with a confused look on his face before he went to pray for those who came out. I left church before they returned to their seats.

My roommates; Mary Jegede and Mary Steven – to differentiate them we called them by their surname,- came back and said pastor Mike had mentioned something about those who could not come out in church should come for private sessions during the revival week. On a normal day, that would be my cue but you have to understand that for a man like pastor Mike, showing up eager to please won’t work. He needs to be the one to pursue you. He wants to be the one to convince you that his wooing you is God’s will.

And so, every Sunday I sat in front, interjected ride on pastor!- always ride on or Yes pastor! So that he saw me but not too much to make me too available. I always dressed demurely. Nothing too revealing, just enough of a promising suggestion. And whenever our eyes met and it now did ever so often, I’d hold it for a few seconds then drop my eyes coyly. The last week of march – six weeks after I began prepping him, Brother Matthew informed me pastor mike wanted to see me in his office on Wednesday after midweek service. I feigned innocence and asked if it was something I did wrong but Brother Matthew said he did not know why but assured me I was not in trouble.

On Wednesday I did not attend church and I did not go to his office either. My boss Tega, a mean spirited man who hated anybody around him to be happy decided that day to keep us all back to work on a campaign that according to him would revolutionize Nigeria. Working in the creative department of Nexend corp was a dream come true for me. The pay is good – a leap from what I was earning chopping shoe on the streets of Lagos, we even have healthcare and insurance packages. The only bad side and it is truly terrible is Tega, the boss. No wonder him never marry, who go wan tie herself to a narcissistic prick without human feelings? Even with him money, e get some kain cross wey no worth am.

We in the creative department were to come up with pitch ideas of four out of the nine components. Each pitch had an accompanying ad and a nationwide rollout plan. To create a seamless process those working on the project – the IT guys, Creative and Legal were booked into a hotel for the week. In as much as he was a mad man on steroids, he ensured that he provided us with the tools to make us at our best. As long as work is concerned, he would demand your last blood but give you the best.

On Saturday afternoon I got an SMS.

“You have not been to church in two weeks which is unusual. I hope you are fine?” I did not know who the message was from and I was too caught up in work to even bother finding out. The next message came on Sunday abi should I say Monday by 2am.

“Good evening sister Joy. Are you sure you are alright? You can share your burden with me so I can pray for you. Pastor Michael.”

Ah, an! pastor wants me to unburden on him by 2am. Even though I had not had close to 10 hours of sleep since we lodged and everybody was cranky and bone-tired, I still managed to do a little victory dance. This would most definitely be a nice way to release all this anger frustration and tiredness.

“Good morning Pastor Michael. Thank you for checking up on me. Work is a bit hectic that is why. I hope to be at church for Sunday service.”

“That is good to hear. See you in church. Goodnight.”

On Sunday morning we got an email instruction to cancel any church plans if we had made any. We would be adequately compensated for overtime ba bla bla. I did not have any church plans. I know I told Pastor Mike I will be in church on Sunday but as I said, men like him like to do the pursuing and even though it was work that was making me unavailable, it was working in my favour.

It would take another three weeks before we were able to present a “passable pitch” according to the boss. Shey I teh una say my boss na demon? of the Edo type sef. True to his word our salary for the two months came with a 30% bonus for each of us. The hotel bills- feeding and laundry were all paid for by the company. We also got to pick three days off.

I picked Wednesday Thursday Friday so that I could have a long weekend. It also coincided with when Jegede and Stephen would be out of town. I no wan make them pour sand for my garri. On Tuesday evening I texted pastor mike to inform him of my availability for midweek service. I arrived very early and sat at my usual place. I was putting on a flay polka dot skirt with a black turtle-neck body-con and flat shoes. As soon as he climbed the alter his eyes caught mine and he smiled broadly. He was excited to see me and even though I was bone tired I felt more than alive. I was on my feet all through service screaming ride on pastor!. At the end of service, he was swamped by the congregation before I had any chance to speak. Our eyes locked and he gave me a “Please stay” look. I was not sure tho so I picked my stuff and headed for the door. Brother Matthew caught up with me and said Pastor Mike asked to meet him in his office. “But half d church dey there na?”

“The spirit moved in a massive way today sister Joy! But pastor Michael said what he needs to talk to you is very important.”.

I followed silently and was soon swallowed by the sea of people waiting to be blessed by Pastor Mike. I wondered if I was the only one with my specific kind of blessing in mind? Surely with these many fine women who looked less than pleased at the number of people here, we plenty wey need wiping.

I sat at the back playing candy crush. When that did not help I watched funny videos on Instagram. By 9:00pm two hours after service had ended I was asked into the office. He dismissed Brother Matthew and told him it was fine to go home. He would lock up and drive me home. Brother Matthew did not object and if he felt somehow leaving both of us alone together he did not show it.

We sat in silence. He was on his phone typing seriously while I looked at his sanctuary. I had never been inside a Pastor’s office and so did not expect the affluence. This office could easily pass for a governor’s office. It was large with buttoned gold embroidered grey settees. There was an entertainment corner at the large glass windows. A black coffee table with a matching cabinet full of assorted biscuits and teas. There was also a refrigerator I assume had more than juice stashed in. The carpet was a thick grey that matched the chairs and curtains. His desk was a large imposing black thing that seemed to rise and fill the room. It was surprisingly empty. When I entered was there not a computer and files? Where was Pastor Mike? The click at the door answered my question. Before I knew what was happening I was lifted to the desk.

“Pastor Mike” I exclaimed breathlessly.

What was happening? This was going way faster than I had ever imagined. his belt was undone and he placed my hand on his dick. I gasped at the feel. There was a zap of current that crossed from his penis through my hand and nestled deep inside me. I held on to it like it was my anchor. My head felt light and the office began to move in sync with my hands over his fully erect penis. His movements were efficient and fluid.

I was spread on his desk, my panties sodden at my ankles. My breasts were still covered by the body con but freed from the straps of my bra. The sensation of his hands over my erect nipples through the fabric, while his lips and tongue teased my neck and earlobe was beyond what I could contain. His lips replaced his hands while he dug one then two fingers inside me.

I gasped and moaned and shivered at once. I was plagued by too many sensations. He positioned his crown at the mouth of my woman sending blinding fire through me. How can one man be able to draw such forbidden responses from me? Then he stood back and looked into my eyes and spoke to me for the first time since I entered his office.

“You belong to me” and with that, he slithered in. A venomous rattlesnake summoning something dark and unexplored, deep inside my woman.

His mouth snatched the deep growl from coming out. There was nothing delicate or even honourable about how he fucked me. It was unbelievably intense. As intense as any fuck could be. And it was over. Just like that. I was breathless and o so unsatisfied.

He moved out of me to fix himself and I fell to the ground on all fours, sinking into his thick grey carpet. I stayed there unable to connect my limbs to my brain. What was that? I had come here expecting him to flirt with me but still maintain some flair of “being a concerned church leader” Instead I got spread like hot bread just like I wanted. Who am I kidding? this was way beyond anything I had imagined or experienced.

“Maybe next time I would take you from the back just like that”

I was on the floor still unable to move, but he was back behind his desk with an uninterrupted view of my bum. I shook my head as if that movement would somehow gather my scattered thoughts and bring some coordination.

“We would need more time”

I couldn’t move yet my mind was wanting more time? Was it my mind or my still throbbing pussy? I finally got up smothered down my skirt and sat gingerly on the couch.

I could not sleep. I could not eat. I could not function for weeks since that evening at Pastor Mike’s office. There was an intense itch that had come alive in me and only he could scratch it. I may be possessed because I no dey use eye see man again. Be like everybody don turn to wood. Yet he was not available. He was at a pastor’s conference in Lagos and after the conference, he would be heading out to Georgia. As I said, he was on fire for the Lord and in high demand.

My plan on coming to Abuja was to work hard, save enough money to rent my own place so Peace – my younger sister would join me. As the firstborn to a widowed mother, most of the responsibilities of my four younger siblings were on me. That plan had taking longer than expected. Living in this Abuja get as e be. Things dey cost anyhow and since Pastor Mike come, I know how much I don spend on cloth and make-up and perfume. I never add wigs and shoe money.

The evening before he flew to Georgia he called me and we spoke. This was the first time we spoke like really spoke. I tell am the way mumsi face fire after her husband die. The only thing our papa people no collect na her job because even our clothes dem collect am all. I dey Unilag 300 level when e happen. Na aunty Linda; our mama younger sister carry us make we stay with her while our mama find small face me I face you. Peace was in ss1 and dropped out to join my aunty to sell okirika in Balogun market while my mama become petty trader join am with her teaching job take pay my younger siblings their school fees.

If I wanted to stay in school, I was on my own. I started making hair and nails between lectures. I also wrote assignments, tests and sometimes exams for money. During holidays I dey hustle anything wey I fit to get. I don do Usher job, sales girl for boutique, receptionist work before I get marketing and sales job for one big company wey dey sell organic supplements. I do that work on the low make my aunty no know. Na so I begin send my mumsi small small change so that she go fit leave the petty trading. It was at a prospective client’s place that I overheard them talking about a new company recruiting.

The next week I was in their Ikeja office. The recruiter said I fit what they wanted but there was nothing she could do since I was still a student. Even if it was my final year. I began visiting the office every day Monday to Friday until she took pity on me and gave me an internship position. It was very demanding but by now I had gotten used to the madness of Lagos and was able to pull off my sales job, school and the internship. After my last paper, still wet from the celebrations I went to the office to inform Margaret – my godmother, that I was free! two months later I was sent to Abuja to be a part of the new branch.

A month later I went to NYSC camp and Margaret ensured I was posted to work there. The only corp member with that privilege.  He listened intently as I rambled on about my family problems and how one moment life was good and the next moment it had become a living nightmare.

“Now that you belong to me you would never lack anything.”

The way he said it made my scalp tickle. It was both a promise and a threat. I was not sure how to react so I stayed silent.

“I have to go now. Send me your account details. And Joy… be ready for my return.”

He did not wait for a response before cutting the call. The tingle in my pussy was back with roaring force. There was a gaping hole between my legs and I was running mad with desire. I lay awake in bed creating scenes of us together. He said he would take me from the back the next time. My ass jutted at the thought. My body as if possessed arched to give a silent lover access. For the first time in all my life, I touched myself.

I rubbed my vagina walls with the flat of my palms in an up and down then circular motion and imagined it was him there. I removed my nighty and wore the body-con turtleneck I wore that Wednesday night. I touched my breasts and squeezed my nipple between my thumb and middle finger recreating the sensations of that night. I lay on my back and spread my legs wide so that he would fit in. I inserted one finger then another and began moving with what I hoped was the same precision and force with which he fucked me on his office desk.

I licked my fingers to lubricate them before putting them back inside me. The taste of my woman together with the sensations from my breasts pushed me forward. By the time my breathing slowed, I got an alert of 3 million naira from Michael K Damini. His message dropped by 5;00am. “send some to your mum then begin a search for a comfortable place.”

3 million naira? Just like that? The highest money I don receive at once na 250k from one aristo I been meet for Lagos. Na him I been dey use keep body and soul together that year. 3 million naira just like that? And from person wey na fuck carry me? God dey answer prayers mysteriously sha.

On Monday morning I called my mum and told her I was sending her some money. Na beg I carry join make she no fear. I teh am say no be thief I thief am. I tell am say make she use am wisely and by God’s grace I go soon fit to carry Peace make she join me for Abuja. During my lunch break, I went to the bank and sent 1 million naira to her then switched off my phone. Make she calm down fess. I go call am for evening. Back at the office, I was informed that Tega wanted to see me in his office and that he was pissed. I walked to his office and kicked myself mentally. Shey I for no allow my mama make she pray for me cast every evil eye wey wan look my side. He was on his way out when I climbed the third floor.

“Good afternoon sir. You sent for me.”

“Miss Macauley?”

“Yes sir”

“ I am off to the airport now. Remind me when I get back on Friday.”

“Yes sir.”

I stood and watched him leave. This was the first time I was this close to him. The first time we had exchanged words not via email. In my two and a half years of working in Abuja, He never mingled with staff. He was always traveling and the few times he was in the office everybody knew better than to be visible. And so far I had succeeded. So what now? What did I do to warrant him inviting me to his office and pissed for that matter? God help me. Just when it looks like my troubles are over then this??

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Leah

by eli-smooth, published 3 years, 1 month ago

The ride down the empty hill felt like a deluge. Five people cramped into an old Peugeot 504. The car jolted its way down the rough terrain and with each sharp turn, their eyes narrowed with despair.

The driver was Kelechi, a 22 year old medical student who had joined the fraternity about a month ago. His low hanging beard chiseled into his sharp jaw-line. The scar that was above his eye gave him a menacing look.

“How could this happen?” He wondered as he drove through the rickety slope. His eyes squinted a little as he swerved to avoid a goat that had moved into their path. The sudden swerve forced the engine to quake mildly and shut down.

They all moved out into the open space.

Silence lingered for a while.

“What do we do now?” Simi asked. Her dark skin glistening under the low light of orange setting sun. She was a psychology student. Brilliant but edgy; unwilling to succumb to the wild stereotypes that followed the other women in her life.

“We do nothing; we just bury the body where no one can find it” Sam whispered coldly.

Leah winced and paced the space around them, sobbing gently as she walked from side to side. She seemed the most distraught of the five. She wondered how different the day before had been and wondered if her life would ever be the same.

But it was the fifth person who seemed the most odd.

His tattoos were visible under the sleeveless shirt he had on. A nose piercing marked him out from the rest of them. He barely talked as the others encircled the empty bushes around. He just leaned on the car and peacefully disappeared into his thoughts.

“We were only supposed to scare him” Simi lamented. Her voice seemed to echo a distant regret.

“I keep asking what happened and no one wants to tell me. We were all on the same plan but as soon as I turn to take a leak, I return and find a fucking dead body on the floor. What happened while I was gone?” Kelechi asked. He seemed to be screaming at everyone else.

“Is it that important? Would you rather not have the truth be a little subdued from your conscience now?” Goni, the boy with the tattoos whispered back at Kelechi. His voice was cold, almost haunting.

“I don’t know. I didn’t sign up for this.” Kelechi confessed.

“Oh, so you think we all woke up and planned a murder and you were the only person out of the loop?” Simi asked angrily.

Kelechi looked away. His hands shaking under the weight of his deepest thoughts.

Sam chuckled slyly as he watched Leah’s wandering theatrics. He seemed calmer than he was a few minutes ago.

“The truth is right here. Whatever we say it is” Sam cuts in. The others looked at him. He nodded. They all nod back except for Goni.

“We still haven’t answered the most pertinent question though. Who poisoned the little old chap?” He asked calmly.

“Does it matter, we all know he was a dwindling, two faced monster” Leah said.

She had stopped pacing and sobbing. She seemed calmer and her big round eyes cut into her beautiful face. Sam looked at her in admiration

“We all knew that, but we also knew that the idea was to scare him and not to murder. So who amongst us had the most reasons to murder him?” Goni asked.

They all went quiet. The few seconds left between their breaths built up a reckless angst. Leah stared at each of their faces. She wondered who amongst them fits the murder type best..

Sam was a nerd.

It was odd that the frat boys loved him but underneath his queer humor and deep lingering eyes, there was no reason to suspect that he could be a killer. Leah thought. Simi was mostly indifferent; capable of the mundane but also the awe inspiring moments. Her calculative mind set her apart as the most logical of the group.

Kelechi was by matter of chance, the only one that was unavailable when they witnessed the death.

Goni was the one who seemed the most vulnerable to accusations. He had fought with the dead boy just a few minutes before the boy broke into a fit. He seemed more dangerous than anyone else and he also seemed to be nonchalant about the corpse that lay in the trunk of the car that had just stopped.

  • Simi looked at Leah from the corner of her eye. Their eyes meet and for a few seconds, they lingered on in their sanctified space. Simi felt a rush of casual emotions rushing within. She remembered their nights underneath the moon when the boys were away. She remembered every feeling and it made her question her every truth. But she also knew the other truth.

The five of them stood in an arc as the trunk was slowly being opened. The three boys straddle the body and move it towards the empty path that led one into the bushes. The rustling of the leaves just in front of them stopped them in their tracks.

A Park ranger had his gun pointed at them. The boys surrendered and raised their hands. The Ranger looked on in surprise.

“Who killed him?” He asked as he nudged the safety of the gun; turning it off.

The group stood, staring at him in silence.

“Who killed my partner?” The Ranger asked again.

This time his gun was pointed at a visibly distraught Simi.

She was overcome with fear.

“Leah, Leaaah,

She poisoned him because he raped her” Simi confessed.

The boys look back at Leah, stunned.

Leah’s face bore a look of resignation.

“Thanks so much for having my back; Lover” she said in disgust.

They boys all stood stunned. Processing both news that had crept into their ears.


Minutes of Memories

by InspiredLetters, published 3 years, 2 months ago

Screenshot_20210319-113259.png

The first thing you know is that you don't know how to run until you know how to run.

***

"Do you plead guilty?" The Judge asks, his glasses perches on the bottom of his nose.

"Do you -"

Although the ceiling fan whizzes faithfully, the room is still hot. It is still still hot.

You are held behind a dock not just by chains washing your hands and feet but by betrayal spoken in silence. Your hands, those large elements of bloody lust, gasp for the air of freedom, at least.

Anxiety is carefully sketched on the brown faces of the court.

The eyes in the room shining brighter than your future peep into your past.

***

Your anger started the day you met Mama sitting on the verandah; her wrapper had come undone, finger prints, five of them, kissed her cheeks, disheveled hair, and eyes blood red from crying. And Papa walked around like four walls with the paintings of Mama's curse words hanging on them.

"Prostitute!"

"Jobless drunk!"

Whenever they quarrelled, there was a cold war; minutes grew into hours, hours into days, days into weeks...

You know the air in your compound smells of their daily quarrells, yet you do nothing, can do nothing but run away. Away from it. It's now normal that if you see Papa saying I love you to Mama, you wonder if something is wrong, if it's a dream.

You keep on dreaming but the pain from the cuffs whisper reality into your eyes.

***

"Do you plead guilty?"

The atmosphere is now condensed like the hot thick pap Mama does for you and Ike every Saturday morning.

In nanoseconds, you could be kissing Mother Earth goodbye just from one statement of one man. One! One!

You look around, wanting to say the truth. Say it anyway!

But then you keep quiet.

***

That fateful day you were greeted by distant sounds of fighting. You know it's Mama and Papa again!

"Not again," you mumble and walk into the sitting room sluggishly.

Your sight beheld a liquid on the burgundy carpet. No, it was not water, it was blood, that sacred stream of life's mystery, Mama's blood!

"Daddy, stop, please, stop," your younger brother, Ike, screams, kept on screaming. He tugs at you to do something because the overflowing blood scares him. But you do nothing, can do nothing but run away. Away from it.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

The punches come in quick successions. Mama's body lay half-dead, half-consYou'vehalf-consYou'vehalf-consYou'vehalf-consYou've

The punches come in quick successions. Mama's body lay half-dead, half-consYou'vehalf-consYou've on the floor decorated with blood.

on the floor decorated with blood. on the floor decorated with blood.

"Daddy-"

The blood melts into thin air, into your eyes, forming a dark cloud, maybe an envelope on the canopy of your eyelids.

You can no longer take it.

So, you grab Papa by the neckcollar of his shirt but he pushes you away. Once, twice, thrice.

Your anger gets the better part of you when you forget the scissors in your hand in his neck.

Blood gushing out, Papa dies within minutes. The same minutes with which everything falls apart.

Papa is dead. Dead!

***

You know you should run. But you also know that you don't know how to run until you know how to run. Instead your feet glues to the roof of the earth and your tongue embraces silence.

Your mother's eyes, though dull with darkness, will you to run away. Still, you don't run, you don't want to run. You don't want to run but still run. Still, run!

Don't run again. The police are waiting out of your house.

"Who called them?" you kept asking.

***

Now.

You pose, one knee up, one knee down, before a congregation of rifles about to blow your dream off. An eye closed, you remember minutes of memories that you never can forget. Memories such as your younger brother calling the police against you, in fear. Memories such as the night you mixed rat poison in Mama's drinking water instead of Papa's.

You tiptoe through life into the bars of death. You are now your own fate. Can you run away from it?

#TheRun