Frankwriter's Posts
Nairaland Forum › Frankwriter's Profile › Frankwriter's Posts
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (of 24 pages)
Godswilleee:Lol.. Is your Dad a pastor? |
Episode 18� � Written by: Frank The Writer. ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost❌ "Please, don’t kill me. I’m the only son of my parents,” I beckoned to him. “Oh! Really?” He laughed. “Yes,” I answered inaudibly. “Well, I don’t have a family,” he said, still pointing the gun to my head. I kept rubbing my hands in tears. But he seemed unbothered with the tears in my eyes. “My parents died 15 years ago,” he busted. “Plea—please, don’t kill me,” I stammered. "Where is your phone?" "It's not with me." "Do you think I'm joking with you? I'll blow off your head right now," he thundered angrily. "I'm not lying to you. I don't have it here," I said, raising my two hands in the air. My heart still beating faster. He did the searching and soon found out I was telling him nothing but the truth. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you..." However, he couldn’t finish what he was going to say before someone hit him from behind. A long wood had landed on his head, causing him to yell in pain while he fell flat on the ground. I wasn’t able to see who was behind him. The only thing that crossed my mind was to run. I didn’t hesitate to take on my heels without looking back. My heart still pounding faster. It was dark and I could barely see the road. I kept running as my strength could carry me—not minding whatever I stepped on. My goal was to come out of the tarred road. But before I could get to the tarred road, a flash of light fell in my direction. It was oblivious to the light from a car. I halted so I don’t end up colliding with the car. “Femiii,” someone yelled from the direction of the car. The voice was that of my sister, Shola. I heaved a big sigh of relief knowing I was finally saved from danger. “Where have you been?” queried my father as he lowered the windscreen and popped out his head. I reached the car, Shola already opened the back side, and I went in and shut it, heaving another loud sigh of relief. “What is it? What happened? And who is after you?” Mom queried in one breath. She was in the front seat while Shola, Agatha, and I sat in the back seat. “Every other person went and returned, but you got there and nobody saw you again. Who is chasing after you?” asked my father? He then reversed the car in the direction that led to our apartment. “They almost killed me,” I finally said, still breathing heavily. “Who and who?” asked my mom. “I don’t know them. They had a real gun. I think two groups of bad boys had a clash. I saw a dead body too,” I said and paused. “A dead body?” Shola turned and looked me in the face. "Yes, a dead body." “Where did this thing happen?” my father asked. “Around that neighborhood where the church rented instruments.” “So how did you escape? You said they had a gun with them?” “Yes. They did. It was only God that saved me. One of them almost shot me,” I said. "Thank your stars I'm still with your phone. I'm sure by now you would have given it to them," my father said and giggled. I didn't utter a word. I simply exhaled. As we drove back home, I went on narrating my ordeal; I continued telling them how I’d have been a dead person if not for the unknown fellow that saved my life. “God still wants to use you Femi. Make up your mind and follow him wholeheartedly,” said my father. I didn’t say anything. I still suffered from the shock of the attack. He went on to preach more on the need for total repentance and coming back to God who had saved my life. He further added that God had a reason for saving my life. “Femi, God has given you another chance to live. Utilize it!" He said. He finally drove into our apartment. We alighted from the car and when I checked my wristwatch, it was 11:10 pm. It was the middle of the night, the moon was illuminated, and the environment was so quiet you could almost hear the wind. *** When everyone had gone to bed, I overheard my father from the bathroom arguing with mom, so I had to stop whatever I was doing there to hear what they were saying. “We can’t afford to send him to school yet. Femi needs to change his ways first before anything,” I heard my father say. I was puzzled. “He could still change when he gets to the University. How long do you want him to stay in this house before leaving for the University?” my mom countered. I was glad she was on my side. I knew I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but this was about me and I couldn’t withstand not hearing every single thing they discussed. “I know, but the idea is to make him change. Let him work on himself first here in the house before going out there to meet different caliber of people.” My father sounded like he was upset. “Femi loves God just as much as we do. Nothing could lead him astray, Nothing. I have prayed about it and I think we should just let him get going on time. He is our only son,” said my mom, still backing me up. “You'll not argue with me. Femi has to change before anything else. He needs to go back to God!” my father lamented. There was a moment of horrible silence. My father said something after that, but I couldn’t hear it because he said it inaudibly. I waited to hear more from the duo but nothing was forthcoming. I turned on the tap from the bathroom, and put my face up in the shower to clear my mind as the water dripped on my entire face. That night, as I lay in bed, I pondered what exactly my father wanted from me. *** After breakfast the following day, I told my father I want to go back to Ibadan but he asked me to put that decision on hold. “Femi, what is important now is your relationship with God. I can’t even give you a go-ahead concerning school this year until I see changes in your spiritual life.” He said. “Ahh, but my mates are already in their first year,” I said, trying to counter him. “There are no mates in pursuit of destiny. Some of your mates are equally in the grave,” he said. “But….” “Femi, no but. Till I see changes in your life, then I’ll decide if you are buying Jamb form or not,” he said to my discomfort, and then stretched my phone in my direction. “Finally,” I said to myself. He then walked towards the door and left. When he left, I called Biola on the phone and she wasn’t sounding cool. She had confirmed she was pregnant after he used a pregnancy test she bought at the Pharmacy. I had always known Biola wouldn’t waste time confirming that. She said she would get an abortion pill next week. She was expecting some money. She told me not to tell anyone. She knew how my father would handle the situation if he eventually finds out. Biola didn't want the word to get out. Because I was young and scared, I followed her suggestion and accepted what she said, despite my conscience pricking me. A voice was telling me to tell her not to abort the baby but I couldn’t speak up. Biola's mind was already made up. I didn't want to get in more trouble too, I was too young to be a father. I didn't want to be judged—but I desperately wanted someone to give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be okay. A lot was really going on in my head. To be continued... © Frank The Writer ____________ Please, Like, Comment and Share!! ❤ Don't be a ghost reader. One or two more episodes to go. � ------------ Pleaseeeeee, Like and follow my Facebook page. @Frank The Writer https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
Episode 17 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost❌ The following day, I woke up in the living room feeling exhausted and famished. Dad led the morning devotion which lasted for almost an hour. When he was done, he turned to Agatha and I. Normally, in our family, the first stage of discipline begins with a stern rebuke and reminder of the consequences. My father started by asking us to read some chapters and verses of the Bible before him. Those verses bluntly condemned immoral acts. We read about five places in the Bible that condemned sexual immorality. He further stressed that as part of our punishment, we would choose one day and go for a morning cry. By that, he meant early morning evangelism. That was something I had never done all my life. And he said after that, he would tell us what next to do. His punishment seemed so unending. Yet, he didn't release my phone to me. Fast forward to the following day which was the day for the church program. The one we had gone for the publicity days ago, led by Desiré. The venue for the outreach was quite distant from our apartment, but every one of us made it to the venue later in the evening. All thanks to my father’s car. The program was to start at 6 pm but we arrived there at 5 pm as per Minister and his family. I wasn’t really all that happy when we got there. Thoughts about Biola's texts still clouded my head. I couldn’t think properly. I reached for the back seat and sat quietly, but my father came a moment later and asked me to move to the front seat. I did as he said without delay. I sat there and bent down, staring at my timberland footwear. The weather was quite friendly and inviting. Little children were seen playing around the empty seats. The Church ushers were after them, while they re-arranged and cleaned the seats with a piece of wet cloth. Gradually, people trooped into the venue from different directions and routes. When I looked up, I sighted Desiré and a few others. They were busy fixing one or two at the altar. I just couldn’t join them to do anything. I had lost it all. No zeal. Nothing at all. The program kicked off around 6:20 pm. Could this really be me? Sitting on the chair for hours listening to my Dad and other ministers who preached for so long. Don’t get me wrong, not like I don’t go to church but not every day. If only church services lasted only for an hour or less, but that of my Dad's church had always been an endless something. I grew more uncomfortable when one of the ministers preached against lust, fornication, and every damn immoral act. I felt like he was talking to me directly. “Whoever that heard this word, shouldn’t harden his heart, but should confess and forsake his sins,” the minister added to my discomfort. The program soon got to its peak, with people praying aloud; speaking in tongues, and all that. I remembered I once argued with Shola over speaking in tongues. She said it was for every believer but I strongly believed it was only a gift God gave to a few people while others just try to force themselves by speaking in the 'rubbish'. She only laughed at me then and said I needed Jesus in my life. But right there, I still heard them speaking in several tongues that seemed not genuine. I wasn’t just moved by any of those things. I simply closed my eyes and murmured my prayer. *** “Amen!” The church finally ended the program by declaring the last Amen. I let out a sigh of relief. I then looked at my wristwatch, it was 9:45 pm. It was time to finally get out of the premises. I followed the congregation as they moved out in numbers. Truth be told, people really turned out for the outreach. I never thought I would meet such a crowd that evening. “Femi!” My father called. I stopped in my track, and let out a frustrated sigh before finally faking a smile on my face. “Yes, Dad?” I walked to where he stood. “Where are you going to? Can’t you go and help the youths return the instruments where they rented them.” He said and squeezed the Bible under his armpit. I knew I couldn’t say no or else I’d get it rough with him. And there were only a few youths who waited behind. “Okay, sir,” I replied. I walked towards the altar where Desiré and a few others were dismantling the altar, the decorations, the wooden pulpit, speakers, and every other stuff. I felt so uncomfortable approaching them. I didn’t want Desiré to see me at all. But before I climbed the wooden stage, she had already seen me. "Femi, so you came? I’m just seeing you.” She said. “Yes. I have been around.” “You are here to help out, I guess.” “Yeah. You’re right.” I reached to the speaker and lifted it on my head. I already knew the place it was rented. It was a popular place. But it was dark already. Cars and trucks swooshed past the tarred road by the other end. Few shops were still open but darkness covered most of the area. I had walked about ten minutes away from the venue of the program. I got into the neighborhood, only for me to look around to see about five boys smoking and drinking. They had their eyes on me. I wasn’t like them, so I probably looked like a stranger, dressed in my plain black trouser and white shirt. I added more pace to my walking step, not liking those kinds of people staring at me. I had to divert to a different route just to make sure they didn’t come after me or something. The new route I followed had several old buildings, windows, badly painted walls, and some empty houses. Before I finally arrived at the showroom, I heard some shots fired in distance. I had to run till I got there. "Femi, are you also helping out?” A man from the church said as he helped me carry the speaker down. He was probably surprised to see me there. I simply nodded my head affirmatively. I looked at my timepiece, 10:18 pm it said. The speaker was the last instrument. Others had gotten to the place and left before me, simply because I diverted fearfully on my way. When the man quickly locked the place, he turned to me and said: "Do you need a ride?” “Um, not really. My Dad is waiting for me over there. We will all go home together.” “Oh! That’s true. I haven’t forgotten your father owns a car.” He replied speedily and entered his blue Avalon. But it then occurred to me I would be walking through that neighborhood alone and I didn’t really think of that, and before I could get to him, he already zoomed off on the tarred road. I had just walked out of the showroom, my eyes caught some group of boys outside. I could tell something was fishy the way they lurked around. I was only with my small Bible. I held it firmly in my right hand and started to walk in a hurry. I didn’t want to draw any attention by running. But then how can I not run when all I heard was yelling, breaking stuff, and some strange sounds that seemed like gunshots. The shot sounded really close. My body froze when I looked up to see someone with a gun and another person on the ground. Omo! I didn’t have to think twice before I ran towards another route that I barely knew. I kept running until someone crashed into me. I fell to the ground and landed with my hands with my knees supporting me from falling flat. I felt my heart pounding faster than usual. I smelt cigarettes on him, I knew I was dead. I covered my eyes not wanting to see the gun he pointed at my head. “Where do you think you’re running to?" echoed a thick voice. I didn’t get a clear picture of the dude because it was dark. If only he stepped more into the street light, I would have seen him. I was about to utter something, but not even sure of what to say. Just then I heard clopping footsteps running in my direction. "Get up,” demanded the other guy from behind. I really didn’t care who he was, but then he was my only hope at that moment. I got up and he pushed me in the back of him. He looked very pissed. “Hand him over to me,” he requested. “Why do you need him?” “He saw too much. He shouldn’t have seen a lot,” he pulled out his gun from his pocket. A bullet of panic rose in my throat; fear crawled over my body, prickling my skin “Oh! God, is this going to be the end of the road for Femi?” I had pondered. Deep down I was regretting why I even obeyed my father in the first place. “Hand him over to me or watch me kill the both of you.” He raised his gun at both of us. The other guy simply laughed, and when I thought he was going to do something silly, he took on his heels. I didn't understand why he ran away. Maybe his gun had no bullet or what? Then the other guy laughed and turned to me. I was stunned to see how muscular he looked. He was looking res in the eyes. “Now, you, what the Bleep are you doing here?” “I—I was walking home,” I stammered. “You surely shouldn’t be around here. You are easy prey,” he leaned against an old dirty wall. He then lighted his cigarette and puffed up a smoke. “We had a church program. I only went to drop off some equipment. I’m sorry for seeing what I shouldn’t have seen,” I said, my mouth shivering. He flicked the cigarette in a pile of dirt and pulled the trigger of his gun. "I'm sending you to heaven right away. Since you have gotten purified by the program," he said and pulled the trigger. The words thudded in my skull; my blood went cold. I stared in silent horror. To be continued... ©Frank The Writer ___________ Please, Like, Comment and Share!!�❤ Don't be a ghost reader. ------------------ Please, follow my Facebook Page. ❤ @ Frank The Writer Use the link below. https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
Rumpleslitskin:Lol... Thanks. I haven't read the Preacher's son tho. Who wrote the story/ book? |
Episode 16 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ *** After some moment, I overheard the whining of the door. Someone was trying to unlock the entrance door. My heartbeat went faster immediately. I presumed Agatha must have slept off since she said she was hungry. I was lucky I had eaten with Desiré before my father and Agatha came in. I really felt for Agatha who has eaten nothing since morning. The door finally opened making a loud noise. Who could it be? I pondered. My father was the only person that crossed my mind. I overheard footsteps from one end to another. Then I saw the person turn the doorknob, followed by a knock. "Daddy,” came Shola's voice. I heaved a big sigh of relief on realizing it was Shola. She was finally back from school which meant it was past 4 pm. I remained mute in my father’s room, and I noticed she reached to the other door and turned the door handle too. “Who locked these doors?” she said. It was unusual because both doors were always open. “Shola,” I finally broke the long silence. I watched her through the doorknob. Shola turned but didn’t know where the voice came from. She looked in the direction of my father’s room and also turned to the other door. “Bro Femi, where are you?” She stood before my mother’s room. “I'm inside here.” “Where exactly?” she turned. “Inside here naa. Daddy’s room.” “Oh! Both rooms are locked. What happened? Who locked you inside? She queried in one breath. “Who else if not daddy. Please, can you give me some water?” “Please, me too. My throat is dried,” came Agatha's voice from my mother’s room. She couldn’t pretend anymore. “Ahh!, Agatha, ati iwo no?" She meant, even you too? But Agatha didn’t reply. “Where have you been all this while?” Shola added. Silence. “There is no key here to unlock the doors. Trust daddy, he must have gone out with the keys.” Shola announced to my discomfort. I heard Agatha hissed loudly from the other end. She must be regretting why she even talked in the first place. “Have you checked very well? Check under the table too,” I said. “It’s not there. No single key is here.” “Okay then.” “Bro Femi, what actually happened?” Shola asked. “Something happened.” “You don’t want to tell me or what?” “Wo, I’m very hungry. Just leave me alone,” I answered, indirectly dodging her query, knowing she wouldn’t bother asking further. “Okay oo. If you say so. I’ll soon leave you both,” she taunted. “To where exactly? Where are you going to?” I replied speedily. “WAEC lesson of course. Have you forgotten my exam will be kicking off next month? That was the last thing she said to me and eventually left when she had changed her clothes. Later in the evening, my father came back and released us. He said he’s yet to decide what next he would do to us. I guess the Holy Spirit was yet to decide what punishment was best for us. “Have you eaten today?” he turned to Agatha. She replied in the negative. He wanted to ask if I had eaten then he remembered he met Desiré and I earlier in the day. “Femi, no food for you again today. As for you, Agatha, you are free to eat dinner. Then by tomorrow, I’ll tell you both what I have for you.” He said. When mom came back later around 7 pm, she was shocked to meet Agatha. She began her interrogation and all those scolding stuff. Agatha was calm as a dove as my mom bombarded her with hurtful words. I even pitied Agatha at a point. *** As soon as they finished eating dinner, they started to prepare for sleep. My father shut the TV and when he turned to my mother, he asked her to lead us in prayer. Mom began and ended after about five minutes or less. I noticed my father was setting an alarm with his phone. As usual, he would still wake up at midnight to pray. Shola and Agatha went into their room while I sat hungrily on the sofa. My belly was hitting so badly. My mom was seated in the dining room with my father. “Don’t you think that was fast?” he turned to my mother. “What was fast?” mom asked, looking surprised. “The prayer.” “How do you mean? Are we supposed to hold a crusade before going to bed?” Mom replied jokingly. But unknown to her my father didn’t find it funny. I looked at his face and he wasn’t wearing a smile. “I never said we should host a crusade but that was a very quick one." “How long should a night prayer last? I thought it was just meant to thank God for the day and pray for a night of safe sleep,” replied mom defensively. “Well, if you do take your time to read the Bible, you will know how unscriptural it is to make short prayers. Men ought always to pray and not faint,” he added by quoting the Bible. I sat and watched the two love birds arguing over short prayers and long prayers. I was pissed off by my father’s claims and choice of words. I mean, prayer is prayer—be it short or long, as long as it was prayed to God. “Oh! Has it gotten to the point where you tell me I’m not conversant with the Bible?” my mom said, looking him in the eyes. “I'm sorry, honey. I don’t mean to be harsh,” my father said, trying to control her temper. “The thing is, we lead a church which is a spiritual organization. We must be above the par both spiritually and otherwise,” my father added. Mom kept quiet and peacefully stared at him while he went on. “And it bothers me that you don’t read the Bible as much as I think you should do,” he said and paused. “Beautiful! I’m your wife. Go on and teach me more,” replied my mom. “Well, I can’t teach you how to pray. But I will tell you this: every church needs a spiritual mother, that is a fervent pastor's wife. That’s why these girls in the church won’t consider you above them because in your private life you act exactly like them,” busted my father. “Oh! This is it. So why marry me in the first place if I’m not spiritual enough for you?” “It's simple. I believe in change. I was hoping you would change with time.” Silence. “Come to think of it, when was the last time you fasted? When was the last time you spent considerable time in prayer?” “Goodnight,” mom said and headed towards her room. She couldn’t take it anymore. I felt for her and I was so disappointed at my father for his choice of words towards mom, even in my very before. I wish I could tell him to stop being too religious. I wish I could just scream out the anger raging inside of me. Well, if only wishes were horses, beggars would surely ride. “As for you, no food for you till 9 tomorrow morning,” he said to me. I watched him as he walked to the kitchen and padlocked the door. “You must change! Whether you like it or not. Tomorrow, we will continue where we stopped,” he added. I was just mopping at him without uttering a word. The Holy Spirit is yet to give him directives as he said. But I knew my father was only trying to keep Agatha and I unaware of his next line of action. He always wanted to stay unpredictable. Hungrily, I lay on the longer couch in the living room. I was feeling peckish that I could eat a horse. There was no light in the living room. It was all covered in darkness. As I lay there, random thoughts about my life filled my head. I thought of how the once innocent Femi suddenly transformed into something else. Growing up, I had always been that calm boy with an innocent face not until Agatha's effect. The calm voice that I used to hear was long gone, now things of the past. Ten minutes later, I heard my phone beep—a message notification tone. I quickly placed my hand on my trouser, and it then occurred to me that my father was still with my phone. But then, the notification tone sounded very close, I opened my eyes and I could see a dim light from the dining room. With the speed of light, I rushed there. Lo and behold, my phone was at the dining table. He forgot to go in with it. Unfortunately, my phone had a scratch at the right top when I picked it up. I was so annoyed by the line of the scratch. I had always guided my phone that I never wanted it to have any single scratch. I sighed slowly as I turned the back to see if there was any scratch, it turned out negative. I clicked on the notification bar and I noticed the sender of the message wasn’t the network provider as I had thought. I had presumed it was one of those MTN random texts. But it was Biola texting me for the first time. Our conversation had always been on WhatsApp, and her text read thus: “Femi, check your WhatsApp. You haven’t been online since morning.” I was puzzled by the content of the message. What could it be? I quickly turned my data on. Messages began to fly in from different groups and private messages. The network was friendly at that time of the night, so Biola's message came in a few seconds later. Well, your guess might be closer but not entirely the way you have guessed. Biola wasn’t sure if she was pregnant but according to her texts, she missed her period and she doesn’t feel entirely well. I felt cold a fiver down my spine. My legs went weak as I stood, and subconsciously, I noticed my hand was shaking as I held my phone. I cleared the WhatsApp conversation between Biola and I. Then I texted her back. “Don’t text or call me for now, please. My phone is currently with my father. There’s a problem. Please, beg you. I will be the one to call you.” I deleted the text after I got notified it was delivered. Damn! Another trouble about you unfold, I said to myself. Sluggishly, I walked back to the couch and collapsed on it. To be continued... © Frank The Writer Like, Comment & Share!!�❤ Don't be a ghost reader ________ Follow my Facebook Page. @ Frank The Writer Use the link below https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
pyro10:No. It doesn't take ages. Just one day one and day off. You didn't see the reason why I stopped? |
Episode 15 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌Do Not Copy or Repost❌ *** “Good morning, sir,” Desiré turned to my father and greeted him in the best manner. He simply nodded his head without uttering a word. Agatha was looking unkempt and she had a long neck too. I wondered where she had been all this while. “Femi, let me have your phone,” thundered my father. He got my heart beating faster than usual. “Be fast about it,” he added, still standing beside Agatha. My eyes moved in the direction of the center table where I had kept my phone. He followed my direction and sighted the phone on the table. It was much closer to him. He bent down and picked it. “Unlock it,” he said, stretching it in my direction. Subconsciously, my hands were shaking as I placed my forefinger behind my phone, and it got unlocked as soon the tip of my forefinger felt the sensor. Desiré twisted her fingers, patiently waiting to see what was about to unfold. I wished she wasn’t in our apartment at that moment. I badly wished she could just get up and start going home. She wasn’t even making any move to stand up. I watched my father as he scrolled my phone and I wondered what particular app he was going through. I suddenly felt a lump in my throat when he began to shake his head in what appeared to be a sign of disappointment. “Femi, take off." This was exactly the thought that rushed through my head but my father was standing beside the door, so it would be hard to attempt to run away. He would surely get hold of me. “Femi, so you have been messing around?” he queried. I tried to say something but nothing came through my mouth. I was dumbfounded and I couldn’t think of any lies to tell at that moment. What did he see? I had pondered. “I thought you told us Bukola was your secondary schoolmate?” He let out a devil’s smile. “Isn't that what he said that day?” He turned to Agatha. She just nodded her head like an Agama lizard. She seemed to be enveloped with fears that she couldn’t talk. I was already sweating under my feet. Damn! He was going through my conversation with Bukola. “Femi, your cup is filled up,” he said looking into my eyes. I quickly averted my eyes. “This boy is not what you think he is,” he turned to Desiré but she didn’t say anything. “By the time I’m done with you today, you’ll never forget it in a hurry,” he added. Desiré finally stood to leave. “Femi, hope to see you in the program next tomorrow,” she said. I simply nodded my head. “Goodbye, sir,” he turned to my father who was still busy scrolling through my phone while he shook his head disappointed. “My regards to your father,” my father said to Desiré who was already at the door. "Alright, sir,” she said and walked past the brown wooden door. My father turned and bolted the door as soon she left. My heartbeat went faster. It’s been years since my father pounced on me. And it seemed he was going to do that. “After I told you to avoid going to those new occupants, yet you disobeyed me. The other day too, I caught you outside their door and you told me you went to repair their light. Ahhhh! Femi, o ti wa ni ijakule." He meant I’m doomed. “And you have been messing around with Agatha too because she told me everything,” he yelled, causing my heart to thud against my ribs. How could she possibly tell him that? How could she? Who asked her? Oh! God. Why did I even fall for her trap in the first place? “Don’t worry, I’ll wait till when your mom comes back, you’ll tell us why you have chosen to be this disobedient and wayward.” “Daddy, please, forgive me. It’s the devil’s handwork,” I stuttered. I haven’t finished speaking when he rushed me and whacked his right hand on my face. I heard the sound of something cracking on the tiled floor. My heart skipped a bit when I saw it was my phone. He quickly picked it up again. I felt the screen had broken with the way it landed on the floor but I wasn't sure if it broke. My father dragged me angrily inside his room. “You'll stay there till whenever I come back,” he slammed the door and locked it up from outside. “And as for you Agatha, go inside his mother’s room,” he said. I overheard him locking it up too. Both rooms were directly opposite each other. So I was locked up in my father’s room while Agatha was in my mother’s room. “Get ready for me this night. I’ll be back!” He slammed the door. It was obvious he left the house thereafter. Well, my father still hasn’t changed. He still hasn’t changed his ways of punishing us. Getting us locked up in a room wasn’t new to me, maybe new to Agatha who joined us a few years ago. Locking us up in a room had been part of him while we grew up as his children. Sometimes, he won’t tell you to fast but indirectly he would lock you up for hours, and in that way, you have stayed in the room without food or water for hours. But this time, I knew, he won’t just lock us up and let us go like that. I’m sure before he comes back, the Holy Spirit would have directed him on what to do as he had always believed. I lay on my back on his bed while my head was bombarded with random thoughts; several of them. I had the thought of breaking the door or escaping through the ceiling but that would only worsen the issue. “Why did you come back?” Agatha broke the long silence from my mother’s door. “Where did you run to? And why did you even spill the beans.? Did he point a gun on your head or what?” I queried back. “Femi, you won’t understand what I went through. You won’t!” She answered. “What did you go through? Why run away in the first place?” I asked. Silence. “I bet you, this is not going to end well. Now, my phone is broken,” I sounded bitter. “But you told us Bukola was your classmate and not the one in our compound. Ahhh! Femiiii,” she said, stressing the last syllable of my name. “What? Were you not the one that initiated me into this act? I was on my own that day…” “What did I do? Did I also push you to flirt with Bukola? Hope you haven’t slept with her?” “No! I haven’t!” I lied. It was crazy how we stood at the door of both rooms and discussed, despite the fact we were in for big trouble. My major concern was my phone. I was ready to face any punishment as long as I get my phone back. “So where have you been all these days?” I broke the short silence. “A friend’s place. I don’t know what your father would have done when he caught me in the bathroom that day, so I ran for my life.” “A friend's house? Now, you’re back again. You never thought of how my parents would feel when you disappeared,” I paused but she didn’t reply. “I don’t even know who told him where I was,” said Agatha. “You mean he came there to pick you up?” “Yes. He even told me you have exposed all our doings in the secret. He made me confess everything we have been doing,” she said to my discomfort. “Oh! My God. You did what? He played a mind game on you and you fall for it. I didn’t tell him anything and he didn’t ask too.” “Do you mean he never asked anything and you didn’t tell him anything?” “Of course, yes. I never told him anything. You should have known him before now. He only did that to find out everything he had suspected. Silence. “So you told him everything we have been doing?” My voice went low and I felt my legs go weak. “No, I told him small.” “Which one is small?” “Yes, small. I didn’t tell him everything,” she said. “Damn, you shouldn’t have told him anything.” “Please, I’m very hungry. I haven’t eaten today. I don’t have the strength to talk,” she sighed slowly. To be continued... © Frank The Writer ______ Are you still following? Please, let me know if you are still following by commenting on this episode.�❤ Like, Comment and Share!!! Don't be a ghost reader and a plagiarist!!!!!! I won't spare the next victim Take persimmon before using any of my contents!! ------------ |
Sorry for the delay. Someone was using my stories to make money via his website, so I needed to tackle the issue. You can visit my Facebook page (Frank The Writer) to see the post I made about it. |
Episode 14 �� Written by: Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost. ❌ *** “Femi, what were you doing?” my father thundered. “Um, Dad. She asked me to help her check their socket. I couldn’t say no. I’m sorry Dad,” I said most meekly as if I was honest and truly sorry. “Ahhh, Femi! When did you become an electrician?” “It was just a minor thing.” I stuttered. My father uttered no word again. He simply climbed the staircases with a frowned face. My legs involuntarily led to the gate. When I turned, Bukola was peeping through their door. She let out a naughty smile and gave me thumbs up for the act of bravery and how quickly I came up with something. Yet my mind was unstable. I knew my father wasn’t convinced yet. He still had that flick of doubt. I got outside the gate and walked down the street absentmindedly. Thoughts about what my father would do to me occupied my head. I knew what he could possibly do. Well, I got back to the hospital, I met Shola and my mom talking. Mom seemed to be much better. She had eaten her portion of food and could talk better unlike when I arrived earlier in the day. I was moody and mon noticed it. Even though I tried dismissing her assumption, she still felt I wasn’t all that cool. It seemed the prayers already had positive effects on her. She sounded so healthy. Deep down I was happy to see her bounce back to her feet. Of course, my father didn't spare me despite telling him I only helped Bukola fix their sockets, he came up with a verse in the Bible, "Obedience is better than sacrifice." He promised he wasn't going to touch me, instead, he said I should go on three days of fasting (6—6). He further stressed that any day he finds me anywhere close to their apartment, he would make me go on dry fasting for days. He really made sure I went hours without tasting anything for good three days. I felt it. After that experience, I began to avoid Bukola and their apartment—and she did notice it. *** After my mother’s illness, my father said I’d have to stay back in Ondo to help out with house chores since Agatha hadn’t been found. (He changed my plans of staying back in Ibadan and I wasn't happy) Besides, he wanted to watch me more closely and monitor the kind of person I had suddenly turned to. I missed being alone in the house. He stopped me from staying idle at home. So I went to the shop with my mom, despite the fact she had a sales girl in her boutique. I told Biola I wouldn't be coming back anytime soon and she seemed sad about it. The second week after I arrived from Ibadan, I attended services at my father’s church. I got up early enough to go to Sunday school as well as the regular nine o'clock worship service. I discovered a whole bevy of new and exciting people my age. Several young ladies my age were willing to befriend a lost soul like me. Much more importantly though, there were several unattached young studs just looking for a new challenge. I was more than willing to fill that role and we would see who challenged whom. When the service was over, some of them came to me, saying it’s been ages since they saw me in church and all those stuff, like trying to check out on someone they hadn’t seen for weeks or so. I told them I hadn’t been around. Meanwhile, the youth leader announced that there would be a meeting later in the day. That evening I attended a meeting of the young adults and discovered Desiré. (Not the English word but a Yoruba name) She looked amazingly like Biola although I didn't realize it at the time. I remember Biola had kidded me that there was no sexier place than a church. Of course, she hypothesized that nowhere else could a man find so many women in skirts, hoses, and heels. My observation, with which I loved to tease her, noted the number of male figures not hidden by casual clothing. Desiré was blessed with a very noticeable bulge. The other young guys in my newfound group seemed quite oblivious to her attributes. Her shyness and her parentage overshadowed any charms she might possess. Desiré was the minister's daughter. One of the ministers in the church. Any and every time anyone saw her, she was involved in some type of religious endeavor, usually at the instigation of her father. I'd known a few ministers' kids and usually, they tend to be a bit wild if anything. I had never met one who was truly pious. I decided right then and there to find just how pure our preacher's daughter really was. If I was the only wayward one in their midst. The first step in my campaign was to get Desiré to notice me. She was polite and quite helpful, as she would be to any new member of the church but she paid me no greater heed than anyone else. She was also almost impossible to isolate from the rest of the group. Every time she and I had even a short moment alone someone would interrupt us or Desiré would have to rush off to take care of some church task. I broadly hinted for her to ask me out but that wasn’t going to work out because she saw me like a brother in the church and nothing more. She needed a two-by-four across the nose just to catch her attention. With that in mind, I twice showed up with my expensive wears, wristwatches, and the rest. A pointless move for I had forgotten that one of the things we were being taught in the church was not dressing like the people of the world. I thought I’d get her attention by appearing like a rich pastor's son, but it didn’t work. Finally, taking the bull by the horns (not what I had in mind to grab), I appealed to her vanity and regional knowledge by asking her if she would show me around the city. The first thing she did was to bring a written list of places the youths were supposed to go for evangelism the following month as if I were a zealous disciple of the city's lore. I was reminded of the teaching of the Bible that states that he that wins a soul is wise. By the time she finished teaching me how to win a soul for Christ, I no longer had a damn feeling about my initial plans. She changed my mindset completely. And my father had told her earlier to make sure she brings me closer to God as per pastor's children. The following Thursday was the first day of creating awareness for the upcoming program and we were on the street with fliers. Desiré led the rest of the youths. We were all chanting and singing loudly. We then toured the streets of Ondo, sharing fliers with the people. Then we hurried back across Akinjagula, where one of the church members sold food. Desiré asked the fifteen of us to buy food while she paid for it. We all happily ordered for Amala and ewedu and sat under the wooden shop. Desiré bought only bottled water for herself. I was really enjoying their company and likewise the amazing vibes that Desiré was dishing out like food. Later in the evening, Desiré and I were walking home. Others had followed a different route to their abode. When we finally got to our apartment, Desiré bid me goodbye with a quick wave of her hand and a happy "See you about seven tomorrow morning,” she roared into the evening dusk and walked past our house. At seven o'clock the next morning, she screamed my name from downstairs. I was already waiting for her, so I hurried down the staircases. The evangelism for that day was in the morning and it was for the youths only. I found the day quite interesting. The venue for the program was set up, similarly to an amusement park. There were chairs, tables, and other stuff displayed on the green leveled grass. By the time we finally toured around the remaining communities we couldn’t meet up with the previous day, I felt my legs had shortened by at least two inches. Everyone seemed so tired. This time Desiré didn’t order food and I was not planning on letting her pay for me again. As usual, we were both walking home again, and before she could ask if I had eaten anything, I short-circuited her by telling her I had already eaten before leaving that morning. She was bewildered. To answer her apprehensive perplexity, I explained I had prepared food that morning because I didn't know how late we might be. I also insisted she had to help me eat it, as it was too much for me to consume alone. I knew nobody in the house would want to taste what I made. Once inside our apartment, I plied her with a plate of beans. There was bread in the fridge, so I brought it out. There was a non-alcoholic wine which, though she insisted she wasn't going to drink, I convinced her it was non-alcoholic as it contains no atom of alcohol. Not having any proper wine glasses, I was forced to serve her wine in a regular ten-ounce drinking glass. While I set the table, Desiré sat on the chair and examined the picture album I had "accidentally" left on the table. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flip quickly past a couple of pages about halfway through the book. When she surreptitiously kept a finger at their location I knew she would examine the pieces of paper containing the texts Agatha and I had exchanged when we newly started our act. Just as soon as I stepped back into the kitchen out of sight. I not only exited out of sight but also slipped out the other side of the kitchen and watched her in the bedroom's vanity mirror, which reflected the full-length hall door mirror, which was focused on the couch. She seemed to enjoy the pictures, but I knew she was reading and re-reading those texts on a piece of paper. I also kept up a running conversation from the kitchen so she would know I wasn't about to suddenly step back into the dining room. As I finally joined her in the dining, I refilled her wineglass without asking and began to tell her how nice it was to have her company. We finished our meal making normal small talk and then retired to the living room where I served her chin chin to keep her mouth busy. Our legs and hips brushed as we balanced on our narrow sagging couch and I managed to lean far enough. Desiré was again thumbing through our photo album, being careful not to open to the compromising middle pages and discussing the content in the paper. Silence accompanied us for some seconds before I broke the awkward silence as she flipped the photo album. "Desiré, I noticed earlier you found those pieces of paper in that album. I'm sorry if that embarrassed you because I'm certainly not ashamed of my old life,” I stuttered. Silence. "I knew I messed up with her those days but not anymore.” Don't you agree?" Blushing a brilliant red, she tried to stutter something but couldn't get her tongue to work and only managed an incoherent, "Uh ..." "Wait, that's not fair. No matter what you think, I’m sure your father isn’t aware of this? How about if I ask you a different question?" She said. "Uh..." "You've been sleeping with Agatha before she disappeared from this house? She queried. "Uhm…… not really," I mumbled "Okay, then. You've been looking at girl's boobs for years then, right?" She added. "Well..." Quickly she stood and turned in my direction, “Femi, you have been living a horrible life for years and if this program must have a positive effect on you, you need to do restitution and confess your sins.” I heard the whining of the door, and when we looked in the direction of the living room door, my father walked in and Agatha followed behind. My heart started pounding faster. And from the loom of things, it seemed Agatha had told her everything we did in times past. I could read my father's face and it spoke volumes of violence. To be Continued... © Frank The Writer __________ Please, Like, Comment and Share!! �♥ Don't be a ghost reader One or two more episodes to go. � --------- Follow my Facebook page: �� Frank The Writer https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
mrdoye:Thank you |
Episode 13 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ **** My trip from Ibadan to Ondo was on a Friday morning. My father asked me to come back on time. It was around 7 a.m. when I neatly arranged my clothes in my small bag. My sister, Aramide, and Segun (my Aunt's son) were preparing for school while I was getting ready. Biola was still in bed. When finally I was set to go, my Aunt walked with me down the street. The morning cloud was still up and the weather felt cold. Silence accompanied my Aunt and I as we walked down the street. I soon found a bike and waved it down. “Safe journey, Femi. My regards to your mom. I’ll still call her to know how she’s doing,” she said in the Yoruba language. “Alright, Aunty.” I climbed the bike. She waved to me as we zoomed off. I returned the gesture with a half smile. On arriving at the park, there were buses without passengers and a few others with passengers. Some older men were seated in a corner taking alcoholic drinks. Few others were on the look for passengers. “Shey o nlo?” asked one of the older men when I passed by. He meant, “Are you going?” “I’m going to Ondo,” I answered. “Go there. That Sienna over there,” replied the man. “Okay. Thank you,” I said and left. On approaching the Sienna, the driver quickly rushed and collected my bag. “Have your seat,” he said in Yoruba. He looked desperately in search of more passengers. It was almost getting filled. There were only two seats left. The brown Toyota Sienna was fully packed with passengers and goods. I got in and sat at the extreme so I could receive fresh air. At first, it was stuffy and uncomfortable, partly because of the smell of unwashed bodies and the absence of leg room. When we were about to leave, I bent down and said a quick prayer to be able to survive the ordeal. The driver turned out to be quite friendly as he apologized in the Yoruba language to the passengers for the discomfort and pleaded with us to bear with him, he had lots of mouths to feed, he added jocularly. Our journey from Ibadan to Ondo lasted for approximately two hours with an average speed of 112km per hour. It was a quick and safe trip without any form of delay or challenges on our way. I arrived at our apartment around 10 am. The early morning sun had already set out up there, and the street bubbled with loud music from an unseen stereo. Nobody was in the house when I arrived. I quickly called my father on phone, and he directed me where he hid the spare key. Shola was in school. Agatha was nowhere to be found. Bidemi was a border and so my father was the only person available person in the hospital with my mom. I rushed in and dropped my bags. I had a quick bath and changed into new cloth. I knew the direction of the MMM Catholic hospital. It’s a popular one along the major road that connects Ore and Ondo. My father was seated outside when I got to the hospital. “Good morning, sir.” I postulated in the best manner. “Femi, you’re here?” He lifted his head and our eyes got locked in contact. I simply nodded my head in affirmation to his query. “Where is my mom?” I asked. He stood up and I followed behind. That pungent smell of hospital filled my nostril. I detested those smells; always want to make me throw up. Mom was lying on her back in the female ward. Her eyes were shut and face up to the ceiling. She was on a drip. “What did the doctor diagnose?” I turned to my father. He seemed busy with his phone. “The doctor said she has Intermittent Fever." I stood there and watched her as she lay there motionless. So many negative voices rushed through my head. “What if she dies?” I forbid the thought with immediate effect. Then, my dad’s phone rang. He hastily went outside. He returned to the ward minutes later and told me he would be back soon. Not long after he left, mom’s eyes opened. She was surprised to see me. I went closer and sat by the bedside. She was weak and couldn’t stress herself talking much. She only asked a few questions; about her sister (My Aunt) Segun and Aramide. I told her everyone was fine. We didn’t talk much before her eyes began to close again in sleep. My stomach began to make loud noise. I hadn’t eaten anything—and it was past eleven. It rumbled so loud that I had to look out for a nearby canteen. Outside the hospital, there was an older woman who sold food and provision but unfortunately, there was no food left again. Hungrily, I settled for snacks and chilled bottle of Pepsi. I really wanted to eat oily food that morning but I had no strength to start looking for places to buy. I only settled for what was available. I was sipping the last drop of the Pepsi when my father returned. He asked if mom had woken up and I replied in the positive. He lead the way to the ward while I followed behind him. We were finally at the door when I turned and saw four people behind me; they were three men and a woman—and they walked in with us. My instincts told me it was my father's church members and my guess was right. I’m sure you already know what they came for? Yeah, prayers! I felt my heart suddenly start to pound faster. I hope this man won’t ask me to lead them in praise and worship? I had pondered. With the presence of everyone in the ward and the inaudible discussion that followed, my mom’s eyes opened again. “She's awake,” alerted the woman among them. She went closer and sat beside her on the bed. They had a heart-to-heart conversation while the rest of us stood still. “The devil is a liar,” said one of the men. “Of course, he is a liar and loser. He lost the battle already,” the man on native wear added. My father nodded his head affirmatively to their positive declaration. Well, long story short, the prayer session began with praise and worship which was led by the woman in their midst. Then followed by a prayer session which was led by two of the church members. My father ended the prayer session and he demanded we hold hands together, my mom inclusive. The prayer lasted for at least forty-five minutes. They eventually left after encouraging her to be strong and that the Lord Jesus Christ had healed her already. “By His stripes, we are healed,” added the man on native. “You'll be fine, Mummy wa,” said the woman who looked much older than my mom. The church members were used to calling my mom ‘Mummy wa' and my dad, ‘Daddy wa'. They literally meant our Mummy and our Daddy. When they were leaving, my father walked with them as they left the ward while I stayed back with my mom. **** Around 4:30 pm, Shola showed up with a flask of food. She least expected to see me, even though I had dropped my bag at home. I guess she didn’t notice. The food she came with was for my mom and Dad. Luckily, she announced there was leftover at home. So we switched duty sharply. I told her to stay with mom while I go back and eat well before I die of starvation. She obliged. So I left and boarded a bike. As soon as I arrived at our apartment, I sighted Bukola from the gate. She was in the corridor with her mom. At first, I wanted to dodge her from seeing me but it was late already. Our eyes got locked in contact. I quickly averted my eyes. She had this mean look that justifies she was mad at me. “Good evening, ma,” I greeted her mom. “Good evening. Welcome,” she reciprocated. I only winked at Bukola before making my way to the staircase. She didn’t respond to my gesture tho. I reached our door, hastily unlocked the door, and headed towards the kitchen. The aroma of Jollof rice filled my nostril as soon as I entered. I reached for the plate and dished out a heap of it and started devouring it like a wolf. Damn! I had really been starving. About twenty minutes later, I was done eating. I locked the door and made my way to the staircase. I needed to go back to the hospital so Shola would come home to make dinner. When I hurried down the staircases, Bukola was standing at the end of it. She literally blocked my way, having scowled her face. “So you just do things the way you like?” she broke the awkward silence. “What's that? You blocked my number and WhatsApp. Didn’t you?” I queried. "And before I blocked you what happened? You were leaving and you couldn’t inform me?” She said, disappointed. “How am I supposed to tell you when my father said we shouldn’t relate with you guys?” I didn’t say this to her hearing. It was just a mere thought that rushed through my head. “It was a sudden trip,” I said instead. Amid the arguments, Bukola held me by my wrist and dragged me towards their flat. Just like in a movie, I followed her stupidly. “Let's go in,” she said. “Go in where?” I enquired. “Don’t worry, nobody is at home.” “But I just saw you with your mom.” “No. That was her sister. She already went back to their house,” she giggled while I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t differentiate her mother from her sister. Well, I only saw her mother twice or thrice. She led the way as we went inside their house. My heartbeat went up faster than usual. Then I heard that calm and gentle voice again, “Femi, don’t go in there. Go back to the hospital now.” Bukola was already giving me green light. I knew she had missed me. I shut the door as soon as we entered their living room. “Lock it,” Bukola said. I turned and did as she said. “Femi, open it and flee instead,” came the voice again. I was troubled. I knew I wanted to stop everything going on in my mind and leave their house. I wanted to say something but she suddenly shut my lips with a kiss. Her soft and wet lips gave me a boner instantly. I rested my left hand on her back and my right hand on her boobs. I could feel her nips sticking out as she wasn’t wearing any bra. She was on a pink sleeveless top and a white short. Bukola confessed she missed me as we crashed our lips. I already had a full erection and my breathing went up. The plan was to do a quickie and get going to my destination but it already seemed the opposite as she was all over me. I reached her sleeveless, and with a pull, all the tied parts were out of their place. I removed it and threw it far from us. I showered her with a lot of kisses and started sucking her boobs. I started to kiss her and suck her boobs. I made her boobs really wet with my saliva and started licking the nips intermittently. I reached her navel and licked it and took my tongue deep to have the full taste of the hot cup. She was damn sexy and beautiful. Bukola was actually the sexiest among the three I had explored. As I reached down, I opened the petticoat and started showering my kisses on her black panty. From here on things started changing and she started enjoying the game. She lost all the control when she got the right thing in the right places and started to make the hip and back movements.. Ahhhh.. Hmmmm….. Ahhhhh… The pleasure was intense that I exploded in no time. She seemed disappointed but that was the limit I could go that evening. We cleaned up our mess and wore our clothes. Nobody said anything to each other. Silence accompanied us as we walked towards the entrance door. I opened the door while Bukola was behind me. I had just made a step out of the door and boom, I looked up to the shock of my life, my father was coming in through the gate and our eyes met! Damn. I felt a cold shiver down my spine. I had this sudden urge to pee and started sweating instantly. “Femiii,” screamed my father. Bukola ran back inside the living room. I was dumbfounded and couldn’t utter a word while my father stared at me so badly. I felt myself losing balance as I stood there. “Femi, you are doomed. I warned you,” said the gentle voice. To be continued. © Frank The Writer. Please, Like Comment, and Share. �♥ Don't be a ghost reader. _______ Follow my Facebook page @ Frank The Writer Or use the link below https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
Diary Of A Pastor's Son Episode 13 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ **** My trip from Ibadan to Ondo was on a Friday morning. My father asked me to come back on time. It was around 7 a.m. when I neatly arranged my clothes in my small bag. My sister, Aramide, and Segun (my Aunt's son) were preparing for school while I was getting ready. Biola was still in bed. When finally I was set to go, my Aunt walked with me down the street. The morning cloud was still up and the weather felt cold. Silence accompanied my Aunt and I as we walked down the street. I soon found a bike and waved it down. “Safe journey, Femi. My regards to your mom. I’ll still call her to know how she’s doing,” she said in the Yoruba language. “Alright, Aunty.” I climbed the bike. She waved to me as we zoomed off. I returned the gesture with a half smile. On arriving at the park, there were buses without passengers and a few others with passengers. Some older men were seated in a corner taking alcoholic drinks. Few others were on the look for passengers. “Shey o nlo?” asked one of the older men when I passed by. He meant, “Are you going?” “I’m going to Ondo,” I answered. “Go there. That Sienna over there,” replied the man. “Okay. Thank you,” I said and left. On approaching the Sienna, the driver quickly rushed and collected my bag. “Have your seat,” he said in Yoruba. He looked desperately in search of more passengers. It was almost getting filled. There were only two seats left. The brown Toyota Sienna was fully packed with passengers and goods. I got in and sat at the extreme so I could receive fresh air. At first, it was stuffy and uncomfortable, partly because of the smell of unwashed bodies and the absence of leg room. When we were about to leave, I bent down and said a quick prayer to be able to survive the ordeal. The driver turned out to be quite friendly as he apologized in the Yoruba language to the passengers for the discomfort and pleaded with us to bear with him, he had lots of mouths to feed, he added jocularly. Our journey from Ibadan to Ondo lasted for approximately two hours with an average speed of 112km per hour. It was a quick and safe trip without any form of delay or challenges on our way. I arrived at our apartment around 10 am. The early morning sun had already set out up there, and the street bubbled with loud music from an unseen stereo. Nobody was in the house when I arrived. I quickly called my father on phone, and he directed me where he hid the spare key. Shola was in school. Agatha was nowhere to be found. Bidemi was a border and so my father was the only person available person in the hospital with my mom. I rushed in and dropped my bags. I had a quick bath and changed into new cloth. I knew the direction of the MMM Catholic hospital. It’s a popular one along the major road that connects Ore and Ondo. My father was seated outside when I got to the hospital. “Good morning, sir.” I postulated in the best manner. “Femi, you’re here?” He lifted his head and our eyes got locked in contact. I simply nodded my head in affirmation to his query. “Where is my mom?” I asked. He stood up and I followed behind. That pungent smell of hospital filled my nostril. I detested those smells; always want to make me throw up. Mom was lying on her back in the female ward. Her eyes were shut and face up to the ceiling. She was on a drip. “What did the doctor diagnose?” I turned to my father. He seemed busy with his phone. “The doctor said she has Intermittent Fever." I stood there and watched her as she lay there motionless. So many negative voices rushed through my head. “What if she dies?” I forbid the thought with immediate effect. Then, my dad’s phone rang. He hastily went outside. He returned to the ward minutes later and told me he would be back soon. Not long after he left, mom’s eyes opened. She was surprised to see me. I went closer and sat by the bedside. She was weak and couldn’t stress herself talking much. She only asked a few questions; about her sister (My Aunt) Segun and Aramide. I told her everyone was fine. We didn’t talk much before her eyes began to close again in sleep. My stomach began to make loud noise. I hadn’t eaten anything—and it was past eleven. It rumbled so loud that I had to look out for a nearby canteen. Outside the hospital, there was an older woman who sold food and provision but unfortunately, there was no food left again. Hungrily, I settled for snacks and chilled bottle of Pepsi. I really wanted to eat oily food that morning but I had no strength to start looking for places to buy. I only settled for what was available. I was sipping the last drop of the Pepsi when my father returned. He asked if mom had woken up and I replied in the positive. He lead the way to the ward while I followed behind him. We were finally at the door when I turned and saw four people behind me; they were three men and a woman—and they walked in with us. My instincts told me it was my father's church members and my guess was right. I’m sure you already know what they came for? Yeah, prayers! I felt my heart suddenly start to pound faster. I hope this man won’t ask me to lead them in praise and worship? I had pondered. With the presence of everyone in the ward and the inaudible discussion that followed, my mom’s eyes opened again. “She's awake,” alerted the woman among them. She went closer and sat beside her on the bed. They had a heart-to-heart conversation while the rest of us stood still. “The devil is a liar,” said one of the men. “Of course, he is a liar and loser. He lost the battle already,” the man on native wear added. My father nodded his head affirmatively to their positive declaration. Well, long story short, the prayer session began with praise and worship which was led by the woman in their midst. Then followed by a prayer session which was led by two of the church members. My father ended the prayer session and he demanded we hold hands together, my mom inclusive. The prayer lasted for at least forty-five minutes. They eventually left after encouraging her to be strong and that the Lord Jesus Christ had healed her already. “By His stripes, we are healed,” added the man on native. “You'll be fine, Mummy wa,” said the woman who looked much older than my mom. The church members were used to calling my mom ‘Mummy wa' and my dad, ‘Daddy wa'. They literally meant our Mummy and our Daddy. When they were leaving, my father walked with them as they left the ward while I stayed back with my mom. **** Around 4:30 pm, Shola showed up with a flask of food. She least expected to see me, even though I had dropped my bag at home. I guess she didn’t notice. The food she came with was for my mom and Dad. Luckily, she announced there was leftover at home. So we switched duty sharply. I told her to stay with mom while I go back and eat well before I die of starvation. She obliged. So I left and boarded a bike. As soon as I arrived at our apartment, I sighted Bukola from the gate. She was in the corridor with her mom. At first, I wanted to dodge her from seeing me but it was late already. Our eyes got locked in contact. I quickly averted my eyes. She had this mean look that justifies she was mad at me. “Good evening, ma,” I greeted her mom. “Good evening. Welcome,” she reciprocated. I only winked at Bukola before making my way to the staircase. She didn’t respond to my gesture tho. I reached our door, hastily unlocked the door, and headed towards the kitchen. The aroma of Jollof rice filled my nostril as soon as I entered. I reached for the plate and dished out a heap of it and started devouring it like a wolf. Damn! I had really been starving. About twenty minutes later, I was done eating. I locked the door and made my way to the staircase. I needed to go back to the hospital so Shola would come home to make dinner. When I hurried down the staircases, Bukola was standing at the end of it. She literally blocked my way, having scowled her face. “So you just do things the way you like?” she broke the awkward silence. “What's that? You blocked my number and WhatsApp. Didn’t you?” I queried. "And before I blocked you what happened? You were leaving and you couldn’t inform me?” She said, disappointed. “How am I supposed to tell you when my father said we shouldn’t relate with you guys?” I didn’t say this to her hearing. It was just a mere thought that rushed through my head. “It was a sudden trip,” I said instead. Amid the arguments, Bukola held me by my wrist and dragged me towards their flat. Just like in a movie, I followed her stupidly. “Let's go in,” she said. “Go in where?” I enquired. “Don’t worry, nobody is at home.” “But I just saw you with your mom.” “No. That was her sister. She already went back to their house,” she giggled while I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t differentiate her mother from her sister. Well, I only saw her mother twice or thrice. She led the way as we went inside their house. My heartbeat went up faster than usual. Then I heard that calm and gentle voice again, “Femi, don’t go in there. Go back to the hospital now.” Bukola was already giving me green light. I knew she had missed me. I shut the door as soon as we entered their living room. “Lock it,” Bukola said. I turned and did as she said. “Femi, open it and flee instead,” came the voice again. I was troubled. I knew I wanted to stop everything going on in my mind and leave their house. I wanted to say something but she suddenly shut my lips with a kiss. Her soft and wet lips gave me a boner instantly. I rested my left hand on her back and my right hand on her boobs. I could feel her nips sticking out as she wasn’t wearing any bra. She was on a pink sleeveless top and a white short. Bukola confessed she missed me as we crashed our lips. I already had a full erection and my breathing went up. The plan was to do a quickie and get going to my destination but it already seemed the opposite as she was all over me. I reached her sleeveless, and with a pull, all the tied parts were out of their place. I removed it and threw it far from us. I showered her with a lot of kisses and started sucking her boobs. I started to kiss her and suck her boobs. I made her boobs really wet with my saliva and started licking the nips intermittently. I reached her navel and licked it and took my tongue deep to have the full taste of the hot cup. She was damn sexy and beautiful. Bukola was actually the sexiest among the three I had explored. As I reached down, I opened the petticoat and started showering my kisses on her black panty. From here on things started changing and she started enjoying the game. She lost all the control when she got the right thing in the right places and started to make the hip and back movements.. Ahhhh.. Hmmmm….. Ahhhhh… The pleasure was intense that I exploded in no time. She seemed disappointed but that was the limit I could go that evening. We cleaned up our mess and wore our clothes. Nobody said anything to each other. Silence accompanied us as we walked towards the entrance door. I opened the door while Bukola was behind me. I had just made a step out of the door and boom, I looked up to the shock of my life, my father was coming in through the gate and our eyes met! Damn. I felt a cold shiver down my spine. I had this sudden urge to pee and started sweating instantly. “Femiii,” screamed my father. Bukola ran back inside the living room. I was dumbfounded and couldn’t utter a word while my father stared at me so badly. I felt myself losing balance as I stood there. “Femi, you are doomed. I warned you,” said the gentle voice. To be continued. © Frank The Writer. Please, Like Comment, and Share. �♥ Don't be a ghost reader. _______ Follow my Facebook page @ Frank The Writer Or use the link below https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
Episode 12 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ *** Many dirty thoughts started running in my head. I was thinking of making out with Biola or having her touch my bare d*ck at least! Then she said to me, “Relax yourself. I can see that you are already sweating, what are you thinking about?” “Nothing, just thinking about how to start jamb lesson and all those stuff,” I lied. She just giggled and sat on the bed. Biola took the local oil bottle in her hand, opened the cap, and poured it into her hand. She kept the bottle on the nearby table and started rubbing the oil in her both palms. I was aroused by seeing that! I already started to leak! My shorts were kind of thin and loose, so my d*ck was moving freely inside which was visible. She ignored it, touched my ankle, and started rubbing up to my knee. I lost it and instead of screaming in pain, I started moaning, which made her laugh a bit. She looked at me and asked, “Kilonshele?” She meant, what happened? She asked it in the sexiest way possible. I still remember that moment as if it happened yesterday. I choked guys, I didn’t know what to say. I smiled at her and said, “Nothing, just don’t stop at the knee.” Biola behaved like she was annoyed with my answer and made an irritated face. In an instant, all my excitement disappeared. And my d*ck lost all its stiffness and became invisible! She saw my confused face and pressed a bit hard on my ankle. I felt pain and made a little sound, “Ahhh..” She released the pressure and started rubbing my feet and my toes. Frankly speaking, that was so arousing as f*ck. She was touching the toes, shaking them up and down, pouring oil on them, and twisting and massaging. Damn! That was a crazy roller coaster moment for me. She would make a good massage therapist. She knew I was enjoying it too. My d*ck went crazy again and made a tent. This time, my d*ck was kind of visible to Biola. As the shorts was small, it was giving her a peak of my d*ck and that was what I was hoping for! She saw my dick peeking out of my shorts and didn’t respond. And she stopped rubbing my toes and feet and started to press my ankle hard again. It was actually painful and I didn’t know at that time what she was trying to do. As soon as she did that, my d*ck went down again. She was literally playing with me as if I was just a toy for her. Then she asked me, “Is it painful when I press there?” Me: Obviously. Biola: Oh, I am sorry. But I have to do that if you lose your control again. I was confused but didn’t have any words to say. Biola then started pressing my leg above the ankle. She poured oil and again started pressing my leg smoothly. This time, she was slowly coming above the knee, which again made my d*ck grow slowly. This time, I didn’t know how to respond to her or what to do as she broke all my confidence and behaved like a strict person. So I just covered my d*ck with my hand on it. She literally pushed my hand away with a slap while looking straight into my eyes. That look was scary and filled with lust. I miss those days. She didn’t stop pressing my leg and she even started touching my thighs. She stopped for a moment and took the oil bottle again in her hand and poured oil on my knee a bit above and toward the thighs. And she started pressing it slowly which gave me an uncontrollable pleasure to me. I was moaning badly and that was heaven! She slowly moved upward. I tried to grab Biola's thighs. She responded with a slap on my hand! I was scared to do anything other than just enjoy. My hands didn’t know what to do, so I just grabbed the bedsheet and let her do whatever she want. She suddenly touched my d*ck and I lost it. I squeezed the bedsheet and tried to hold back my moan. She stopped the massage and started leaving. I quickly turned. “What happened?” I enquired. She looked at me and said, “It’s my wish when to stop or to continue. So, remember your place. I was freaking confused. I didn’t know how to respond. I just stayed in the bed. She only succeeded in turning me on. She probably left because she didn’t want a repetition of what happened the last time. She was thoughtful, unlike me. I was always ready to get my flesh satisfied at any slightest opportunity I got. I lay there on my back and thoughts about Agatha rushed through my head. Where could she possibly run to? That was what was going through my head before nature called, and I dozed off. The following morning, I woke up to realize that I had wet dreams. I felt the middle of my shorts with my left hand and it was watery. I tried remembering what I dreamt about the previous night but I couldn’t recall. Gradually, I was turning into a pervert; always surfing the internet to satisfy my sexual pleasure. Fast forward to the week my father said he would waybill my clothes, something else happened. My mother fell ill and was admitted to MMM Catholic Hospital in Ondo. That was a piece of sad news, so my father wanted me back home. My Aunt was aware and likewise Biola. She wasn't happy I was about to leave her. The feeling was mutual but I told her I'd surely come back as soon as possible. If only I knew what was ahead of me. In the next episode, I'll tell you about my encounter upon arriving in Ondo. To be continued... © Frank The Writer __________ Please, Like, Comment and share!! Don't be a ghost reader. |
Kindly ignore the last part It's for Facebook readers. Follow my Facebook page @ Frank The Writer Or use the link below. https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=pfbid02WGkNxv2igJBydKAHLLgETKCuY227mLUERx1J6Q2bes38AYt4RimxLsmubyWADQKZl&id=100064014034677 |
Episode 11 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ **** After that round, we both were exhausted. Biola slept on me. I couldn’t fall asleep so quickly just as she did. I battled with several thoughts that came rushing through my head. They made me feel like I had done the worst thing ever. I felt dirty, empty, tired, and torn inside. I finally lost it and it happened to be Biola. This would be likely impossible to confess to anybody. The following morning, Biola got up before me. When finally my eyes opened, I saw her staring at me. My morning wood was on and I caught her staring down my shorts. We both stared at each other in a manner that implied we both wanted to do it again. I had zero will to resist the urge. Biola added to it by complementing my d*ck. She said it was huge. Additionally, her beautiful hair, her extraordinary figure with a bumpy ass, and her popping cleavage were mesmerizing and I couldn’t keep control of what stood between my thighs. We ended up rolling on the sheet again that morning. She put me in several positions. I was a novice and she seemed to be an expert. Later that morning after the vigorous experience with Biola, we were both feeling famished. The rumbling of my belly was so loud, and I could feel my eyes turning. Though Biola yawned heavily, I seemed to be hungrier. I think mine was on a different level. It felt like I hadn’t eaten for days. I lay tiredly on the bed, while the pictures of what we did last night came flooding my head. Biola searched his brother's kitchen, but there were no foodstuffs available. Thank God she still had some money with her. She left and returned after some minutes. She had two black nylon on her both hands which she held with care. “Take this one,” she stretched out her left hand. Just like a goat that was offered a green leaf, I hurriedly took it from her. I was about to unwrap the content when Biola screamed, “Femiiii, you haven’t even washed your hands.” I sighed slowly and jumped down from the bed. “Dirty boy,” she taunted in Yoruba. I just smiled and looked for water to wash my hands. When finally I meticulously unwrapped the black nylon, I found white rice, beans, pieces of dodo (fried plantain), and a piece of meat with a sauce on top of it. Typical of roadside sellers. It wasn’t up to ten minutes when Biola turned in my direction, “Femi, so quick? Are you that hungry? I thought it’s just me,” she paused. “I'm very hungry and I wouldn’t mind if you sacrifice the one in your possession, I’d gladly eat, too,” I taunted. She laughed and gave me a friendly punch on my shoulder. “Glutton like you,” she added. Biola was kind enough to have asked me to take the remaining pieces of dodo left in her food. With the speed of light, I grabbed them and threw them inside my mouth before she quickly changes her mind. **** It was around 11:00 am when Gbenga called to inform Biola that he was back from Lagos and he would finally come back to the house later in the evening. Gbenga wanted us to stay for one more night, but Biola informed him over the phone that we didn’t prepare for it. Besides, she already told my Aunt we would be coming back that morning. Gbenga understood her, so he told her where she would keep the keys for him till when he comes back. Biola and I stayed back until around 12:30 pm when we took our bath in turns and got dressed. We eventually left Gbenga's apartment. It was something we could trek. Besides, Biola already spent the last money with her on the food we both ate. It was about twenty-five minutes walk and I quite enjoyed walking with Biola. I so much liked her vibes, and with her, I already felt like I had a girlfriend. We got home and met my Aunt cooking. My joy knew no bound on realizing she was preparing lunch. God knows I was still heavily hungry despite the food I ate earlier. The walk from Gbenga's apartment down to My Aunt's abode already sapped my strength. So we exchanged pleasantries with my Aunt before Biola went inside the kitchen and took over from my Aunt. I stayed back with my Aunt in the sitting room. My Aunt and I barely talk. It had always been normal greetings and all that. I mean, we never had any random conversation, but that day seemed to be different. She started by asking when I’d start Jamb lesson, get registered, and all those school stuff. So we got talking for the very first time since I came to Ibadan. My Aunt eventually broke a piece of shocking news to me. She said he spoke with my father on the phone last night, and he told her that Agatha was no longer staying with them in Ondo. "Why? What happened?” I asked. “Your father caught her in the bathroom masturbating,” the response that pierced through my ears. Cold shivers ran through my spine and for some seconds, no single word left my mouth. “But Agatha is an orphan, why would my father chases her away?” “He didn’t chase her. She fled out of the house for fear of being punished by your father and nobody has seen her for two days,” she paused. I was dumbfounded and didn't know what else to say. If I was still in Ondo, I’m sure by now, Agatha would have implicated me in one way or another, I had pondered. Well, I was also concerned about her well-being, I mean where would the poor girl run to? Who knows what my father had threatened to do to her before she disappeared. I knew what he could do. I could have called Agatha, but she had no phone. *** Later that day, after we ate Amala and efo riro for lunch, I called my father intending to know more about Agatha but I intended to disguise it by asking her irrelevant question to see if he would talk about it himself. “Dad, when are you sending the clothes again?” I enquired when he picked up. "Femi, I thought I told you next week?” He raised his voice. I didn’t day anything. “I'll waybill them next week Monday,” he added and disconnected. I regretted ever dialing his number that afternoon. He simply made me feel desperate for ordinary clothes, not knowing I had hidden intentions. While I headed to my room that afternoon, I didn’t notice a wooden stool was before me, I collided with it and it hit me badly. I fell and got my ankle twisted. Though I didn’t feel the pain at that moment, It was later at night when it started paining badly. So I told my Aunt. She gave me one local oil to apply to it. “Tell Biola to help you massage it,” she said Biola came out of her room when she heard her name. I told her what my Aunt said, so she went in with me to my room. She had been in the other room with my sister, Aramide. Biola took my leg in her lap and started pressing it and asking me if it was paining me. " Yes, please, take it easy," I groaned. I was in more pain while she was pressing my leg. She kept pressing my leg forward and backward. I was in so much pain and hence, I was shaking my leg which accidentally touched her boobs and stomach. She didn’t mind it and I didn’t care either. She got me a pain killer and I took one as she was pressing my leg. I started feeling a bit relieved and I slept in that position while she went back to sleep. The following day, Biola came to massage my leg. But this time, I didn’t have much pain, so I was watching her massaging my leg. As she was pulling my leg, it was touching her boobs which started giving me a boner! I tried to cover it but at the same time, I wanted to feel Biola's nipples. So I closed my eyes and started acting as if it was paining and started extending my leg which was slightly pressing her boobs. After some time, I felt that her nipples were getting hard. so I started rolling my toe around Biola's nipple. After some time, I opened my eyes to see her reaction. She had closed her eyes and was rubbing my leg so softly and allowing my leg to touch her boobs! This made my d*ck fully erect and I got a huge tent in my shorts. Then I asked her slowly, “Can I remove my shorts so that you can massage my leg more freely?” She said. So I unzipped it. “Can you do it please as I can’t get up?” I asked her She said, “No problem” and she removed my shorts slowly. Now I was in my underwear which was really wet with my pre-cum and with a huge tent. Biola saw it too but didn’t say anything. So I got a bit more courage and started thinking about touching her legs as she was sitting in such a fashion which made her one leg stretch towards me. As Biola was still rubbing my leg, my toes were touching her nipples. She started breathing heavily so I dropped my hand on her leg which landed almost on her knee. But on top of her nighty, I suddenly lifted my hand and put it under her nighty. My heart was pounding like I was going to die but I was so excited that I didn’t care about any consequences. And Biola didn’t utter a word. This time, her hand started going upwards, toward my knee. So I touched her knee under her nighty too, for which she gave a jerk but she didn’t even look at me. So I continued with a soft rub towards Biola's thighs. She even adjusted herself and came a bit close to me and started rubbing my thighs. My d*ck started throbbing which was literally trembling. I never felt that much joy in my entire life. I gathered all the courage and uttered a word, “a bit up”. She looked at me but didn’t move any further. I was scared again and I started re-thinking, “Am I taking it all wrong? Am I thinking something bad? What if My Aunty enters? What if we get caught today? But after some time, Biola shook her leg and pushed it close to me. Then I stopped thinking with my brain and my d*ck overtook everything. This time, I directly grabbed her thighs and she started breathing like a dragon. She closed her eyes and started rubbing my thighs. With my other hand, I held her hand and placed it on my d*ck. To be continued... © Frank The Writer Check the comment section, and be the first to answer the question correctly to stand a chance to win 1GB of Data. (You must be an active follower to win!!) Good luck � ________ Please, Like, Comment, and Share!�♥ |
Cossybob:Lol... We will find out soon |
preshman22:Thanks, man. |
pyro10:I don't deal on LOUD ![]() |
Adesina12:Lol... Send the popcorn |
Episode 10 ��� Written by: Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ *** Two weeks later, the bandages were all gone but the scars were still there each time I looked in the mirror. The pains were gone too and I could freely walk anywhere. The house was now left with my Aunt, his son, Aramide, and I. It felt like a new experience in absence of Biola who had gone back to school. I was faced with more house chores except cooking, which was taken care of by my Aunt, and sometimes, Aramide. Aside from housework, I was useful to my Aunt on her cassava farm. One night, Bukola seemed to be in good mood. She finally remembered to text back, and the content of her messages was complaints. She was angry I didn’t inform her while leaving for Ibadan, and even when she called, I didn’t pick up. I tried apologizing politely but she seemed not interested. She thought I was going to continue begging her and possibly pet her like I had been doing the earlier days she was snubbing my texts. I didn’t stress myself trying to convince, and that actually got her pissed off. She blocked me. Days later, I finally went with Aramide to the market. Ogunpa market; around Dugbe Alawo axis of Ibadan North Local Government Area. The market bubbled with loud noise from far and near. There were several shops at every angle. Bigger shops look more attractive. The hawkers were shouting to sell their goods. All in the quest to attract customers by singing praises of their goods due to the competition they face—because several hawkers were selling the same commodities. Instead of buying a few clothes as I had earlier planned, I changes my mind, since my father promised to waybill some of my clothes after I told them my plans to stay back here. I bought new underwear instead. I needed to replace them badly. Some of my boxers were torn and old. It was really very pleasant to walk around Ogunpa market that particular evening with Aramide. It’s a place where one could get valuable experiences. Later that evening when we got home, that same voice came again and this time, it went this way, “Femi, just like you have changed your physical garment by replacing your old underwear, you also need to change the filthy garment spiritually, and that’s the old you, which you need to put aside. You’re not entirely free until you confess all your sins.” I became restless. I wished there was a way I could stop hearing the voice. For real, I was getting tired of it. How do I possibly confess my sins before my father who was a pastor? That man would skin me alive. He might even ask me to fast for twenty-one days. I was so not comfortable hearing that calm voice anymore. It was beginning to irritate me as I lay on the bed. *** I received a WhatsApp message from Biola. She was just texting for the first time since she went back to school. I was annoyed by her 'I don’t care attitude' which I told her. She apologized and promised she would make it up to me. After like a minute of chit-chat, Biola said she would be coming back to Ibadan the next day. I was shocked but she explained further. She said her school was on strike and she can’t stay anymore hoping for the call-off which seemed like it won’t happen anytime soon. She sounded frustrated with the several emoji that accompanied her texts. With the conversation, I felt like I was going to meet my girlfriend the next day. I was waiting the night to pass. Morning came, and I was expecting to see Biola sooner. She said she’d come around noon or thereafter. So I was waiting. It was later around 2 pm when Biola arrived in Ibadan. She wore blue denim with a bottle-green colored t-shirt, and she looked so beautiful. I was wowed by what I saw. She came and hugged me. We spent time together. We talked and gossiped, and she was very upset with the ongoing strike. Later in the evening, she asked me to go with her to her brother’s house, which according to her wasn’t far from my Aunt's house. Hope you haven’t forgotten who Biola was? And what she was to me? She still had another brother in Ibadan aside from my late Aunt's husband. She was the only girl in a family of four boys. I was excited when she said we would be going to see her brother. I had wanted to visit places. I quickly wore my clothes and soon we were ready to go. Nobody was at home then, so we drooped the key under the foot match outside. My Aunt went to market, and Aramide was yet to come back from school with Segun, my Aunt's son. After we got to her brother's apartment. Biola reached where he was, and they hugged each other. He was delighted to see us. His face seemed familiar and when I tried to recall where we first met, he reminded me we met during the burial. We exchanged pleasantries in Yoruba language. He said his name was Gbenga. He was Biola's youngest brother. Biola was the youngest among his four brothers. I guess Gbenga should be in his late twenties. He was staying in a one-bedroom apartment. There was no food, so Biola made a fast one; she cooked noodles and eggs. We all dined ogether and watered our bellies with soft chilled drinks. Gbenga paid for all that we ate that evening. Towards 8 pm, Gbenga said he was going to Lagos to buy goods. It was their usual routine of going to market during the night. He was into house curtains and their fittings. We wished him safe travel as he was about to leave the house. Gbenga left his key with us. So it was just Biola and I in his apartment. It was late already, so Biola suggested we sleep over and leave the next day. Before then, she called my Aunt on the phone and informed her of our whereabouts. Biola: Femi, I’m so tired now. I need to sleep. It’s nice seeing you again and your bandages are no more. Me: Thank you. I’m glad to have you around again. We went to the bedroom and it was just a small bed. So I said, sleep on the bed, let me sleep on the floor. She obliged and we slept. After an hour, I started feeling cold. It seemed it would rain and the weather was chilling outside. I thought I could man up enough and absorb the cold but it was increasing with every passing minute. Biola: Femi, ain’t you feeling this cold. I’m even freezing here, she announced to my comfort. As if she knew what I was going through. So we both slept on the same bed. She was shivering and there was no duvet cover nor blanket in the bed. The bed was only covered with a bed sheet. Biola was getting close to me and at a point, she hugged me totally. I was asleep but still, it was okay for me. Biola soon moved her face towards me, and she was sleeping on my hand by resting her head on it. Unknowingly or perhaps intentionally, our lips connected. I was still sleeping but we both were kissing constantly. At last, our eyes opened and we kissed passionately! For ten minutes, we kissed and then we left each other for some air. We got up and looked at each other. She told me to lock the main door and lock the room door too. I did it and by that time, Biola was without her t-shirt and denim! I came, and I was awestruck to see the beauty in front of me. She looked at me and got below the sheet. I quickly removed my shirt and got under the sheet. We kissed and now it was a mad-kissing. I was exploring Biola's body with my hands and loved the curve of her waist. I removed her bra passionately. She was fully reciprocating and removing my shorts and feeling my cock in her hand. Biola stroked my d*ck and took it all inside her mouth! I was awestruck by her act. I had never done it before and she made me explode in her mouth. She went down and came back after cleaning herself. She lead my mouth to her dangling boobs and made me feed on them. She was in the seventh heaven and she came after 15 minutes. It was really awesome when she climaxed. I was looking at her. Then I held her in my hand and took her to bed. I started to suck Biola's boobs again and she was in the mood again. And now I wanted to feel my d*ck in her. Biola whispered in my ear and told me to put it inside her. In the same position, I tried to put it in but failed. So, Biola guided my d*ck, and it went inside her in a single, strong push. I was able to see her face. She was in pain but very happy at the same time. I kissed her and started to stroke her gently. Biola was getting at the same pace as me and getting into the same rhythm with me. The feeling was something words can’t express. It was my first time. Biola wrapped her legs beside my waist, and it was really making me hornier. She kept on begging me to hit her harder and she started to moan. The feeling was so intense that I breathed heavily. After some minutes, I suddenly felt the urge to pee, And before I could say, Jack, I had emptied the content all over her body. To be continued... © Frank The Writer _________ Please, Like, Comment, and Share. Don't be a ghost reader! __________ If you're enjoying my stories, please, kindly follow my Facebook page and invite your friends to follow.♥♥ @ Frank The Writer or use the link below to follow. https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
Adesina12:�� Die with the secret indeed |
pyro10:Gracias♥ |
holicupp:Thank you. |
Episode 9 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost❌ **** I woke up to the pungent smell of hospital disinfectant, invading my nostrils. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting in an attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. How long have I been here? I shut my eyes, trying to remember what had exactly happened. Then it all hit me with a bang. The memory of it all starts to occupy my thoughts. I did fall off the bed. The cold air hit my face as I landed on the tiled floor. Biola was panicking, and I remembered she was without clothes. I overheard my Aunt scream from her bedroom and I recalled she rushed into my room. I knew the pain jolted throughout my body, and I was bleeding. I was still alive. I knew one or two neighbors surrounded me. Some were dialing numbers of bike men and car owners within the neighborhood. It was midnight and it was raining. A man was telling me, “Femi, you’ll be fine.” I think he covered my head with a white cloth. I felt my head breathing as blood flooded my entire face. Who brought me here? I looked around the hospital ward—and there was nobody by my side. No hospital staff too. Out of impulse, my hand traveled to my face, pressing the throbbing area by my forehead. I felt a scar and flinched at the pain. I tried to get up. Once I stepped on the cold, white tiles, I instantly fell back onto the bed. My body was engulfed in pain as if objecting to my decision to stand up. I lay there pathetically waiting for the pain to wash away. Staring at the ceiling, illuminated with white fluorescent light. I still didn’t know how I got here, who took me here, and how long I’ve been here. My series of questions was interrupted as my Aunt emerged from the door of the room with her mobile phone close to her ear. From the look of things, she was talking to my father. “Femi, are you better now?” She simpered, putting a hand out to pet my head. I told her I was fine, even when it was a complete lie. “So shall we go back tomorrow morning? Or would you like to leave in the evening?” She asked. Leave? No. “I haven’t recovered. I need to stay here for some time,” I answered. My Aunt later gave me the phone. I spoke with my Dad. And he began with, “Femi, are you still a kid that you still roll around while sleeping,” he asked. It was then I knew Biola had cooked up lies in our favor. If she hadn’t, I knew it would have been a different case. How was she able to convince my Aunt? Was she able to put on her clothes before she came in? The thoughts that rushed through my head. My father later prayed with me over the phone. He assured me God’s healing hands would come upon me and I’d be fine in no time. I replied simply with “Amen”. When I fell asleep later in the night, in my dream, I saw myself taken up by a hand of unseen forces. I couldn’t see the face, but It held me by my left hand. We were both walking in an unknown direction. We soon got to a tall building and the unknown being wanted us to jump down from such height, and that was when I woke up. My heart was pounding faster. It then occurred to me I have been sleeping on my back, facing the ceiling. Each time I slept in that position, it had always been one nightmare or the other. "Femi, this isn't one of your regular nightmares. Make your ways right with your maker, or except tribulations soon," I heard a voice from inner me. I tried shutting it off but it kept on and on and was quite disturbing. My mind wasn't at rest until when finally I decided I'd change my ways. The following morning, I rose from the hospital bed and my Aunt was sitting next to me. “Femi, hope you’re getting better?” she said. “Yes, I’m better now. I have decided I’ll be staying back here in Ibadan rather than going back to Ondo. “What happened? Why have you chosen to stay back?” she asked? “Nothing is interesting about there,” I stuttered. “Hmm, hope it’s not because of your broken head,” she giggled. “No, Aunty, I prefer Ibadan to Ondo. Just these few days have proven to be better than the life over there.” “Well, I don’t know what else to say. Have you called your father and informed him about it?” “No. I’ll call them later.” Later in the day, I was finally discharged from the hospital, but I still had bandages around my head like someone coming from a war zone. Biola came to me when I was in my room and for some seconds nobody said anything to each other. She had her eyes fixed on my bandaged head. “I’m sorry Femi, she broke the short silence. She then moved and sat closer to me on the bed. “How do you feel now?” she asked in Yoruba. “I'm okay. What did you tell them happened? I can’t remember all that happened that night.” I finally spoke. Biola giggled and smirked. “Hmm, you needed to see how fast I quickly tied myself with a wrapper. Aunt Bose would have met me without clothes,” she paused. “And it would have been worse if you had no clothes on then,” she was referring to me. I was only imagining the pictures of how things would have turned out. Biola later apologized for what happened. She said we allowed our emotions to rule over us and we got carried away, too. After we ate dinner that evening, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Dad's number. He answered and said, “Hold on, let me put the phone on speaker, your mom is here,” I heard him call mom over, then he said, “Femi, how are you? Hope you’re getting better? How’s your Aunt? He uttered in one breath. I told them I was doing well, and so was my Aunt. I then proceeded to tell them why I called, “Dad, mom, I don’t want to come back to Ondo again. I want to stay here and process my school stuff, since the University of Ibadan is here,” I said. Dad said, “Femi, I don’t understand this your sudden decision of staying back? Is there something you’re not telling us?” My mom then chimed in with, “Are you sure that’s what you want?” “Yes, mom, I’m absolutely sure,” I answered. “Well, if that’s the best decision you think for yourself, no problem, we’ll send some of your clothes and belongings along,” said Dad. “Thank you, Dad. That’ll be nice and I’d appreciate knowing when you’re about to send them.” “How about your Aunt? Is she handy?” Dad asked. “Yes, she’s been listening to our whole conversation,” I said. “Hello, Bose,” he began, “Has Femi been behaving himself?” “Yea, he has always been a good boy. Good evening, sir,” she said, then continued, “He's hardworking, just like her younger sister, Aramide. He told me about his decision this morning. Although I’m surprised but that’s not a bad idea if you ask me.” “Good to hear he’s been amazing,” replied my father in Yoruba. “Okay,” said Dad, “Do take care of them and yourself too, everything will be fine.” "Alright, I'll." My Aunt handed the phone to me. “Goodnight Dad, goodnight, Mom,” I replied and disconnected. This happened to be one of the best decisions I made in my quest to return to my maker. I heard that same voice again and it said, “Good one Femi, you’re gradually making progress in returning to your maker. Going back to Ondo would keep you in bondage while you keep soiling yourself with either Agatha or Bukola.” I wasn't sure of what I was doing, I was only going by the instructions from the strange voice. I knew my Biola had this look that justify, "Hope this thing hasn't affected Femi mentally?" She had noticed my calmness and how suddenly I decided to stay back in Ibadan. **** The following day was Friday, and Biola started getting her stuff ready. It was time to return to school. She planned to leave around noon. Ibadan to Lagos is about two hours trip. When she was finally ready to go, I couldn’t see her off because I was feeling so tired. She came to my room, and for some seconds we both looked at each other without uttering a word. “Femi, please, do take care of yourself,” she broke the short silence. "Thank you,” I uttered without looking her in the face. “We will talk on the phone,” she added. "Alright, no wahala,” I sounded so cold. Biola quietly left the room. My Aunty gave her some money before she finally zoomed off. What next? I had pondered. Then I heard that same voice again, “Femi, I’ll direct your steps.” There was another voice countering the previous voice and it was louder, “Femi, this is not the right time to return to your maker. You’d still go back to your vomit. Do you know why? You haven’t had sex yet and once you have such an opportunity, you’d still fall,” There seemed to be a peal of laughter that followed the voice. I was troubled. Later in the night, I got woken by a voice to pray. It was that same calm voice, “Femi, wake up. It’s time to pray; get your Bible and read first.” I realized I didn’t come to Ibadan with my Bible, so I used the one on my phone. There weren’t particular chapters and verses I heard, so I scrolled through my phone until I paused at first Corinthians 6:18 and I read, “Flee from sexual sin. No other sin so clearly affects the body like this one. For sexual immorality is a sin against your own body.” I continued to verse 9, “Don't you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? You do not belong to yourself.” I paused. I felt my conscience pricking me. And before I knew it, I started praying; I prayed for God’s mercies and forgiveness for everything I had done in time past. I didn't know how come about the strength to pray. It was unusual. After the prayers, I went to bed. And that night, I slept like a baby. The following day, I began my day with prayers. It was so unlike me. I’d always wake up and start with my phone, but that morning was unique. It was then I realized something was working in me. I then remembered my father’s daily quote, “No man can do the things of God, except He is with him.” It seemed God was finally with me. I smiled at the realization that my life had taken a new turn. I had always wanted to do the right thing but I kept falling. Then, I heard the same voice again, and this time it said, “Femi, you’re making progress. The next thing to do now is to confess all your sins.” My heart suddenly missed a beat. Damn! Confess all my sins? To who? My father? To be continued... © Frank The Writer _____________ Please, Like Comment, and Share!! Don't be a ghost reader. One or two more episodes to go.� ---------------------- Follow My Facebook page pleaseeeeee! �� Frank The Writer Or use the link below https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 Let's get to 10k followers.♥♥ |
frankwriter: |
Adesina12:About the to post it now |
PromiseWrites:But you could do your advert somewhere else. Please, stop it. Start your own story and then litter it with advertisements. |
Therock5555:Ohkayyyy I'm not one bro |
Episode 8 �� Written by Frank The Writer ❌ Do Not Copy or Repost ❌ **** I realized Biola was as Hot as me. I slowly turned to give her more access to my machine but Biola quickly removed her hand from beneath my boxers. She started resisting me, but I knew how Hot she was. “Femi, it’s wrong,” she said. I was shocked. Like, how would she kick off my engine, and all of a sudden she started telling me it’s wrong. Or perhaps she wanted to tease me or what? I pondered. After some time, I tried getting over it, but at that point, I couldn’t resist the urge. I had zero self-control. Only that grip on my dick already turned me on and I couldn’t concentrate on the movie anymore. I made advancement with my left hand towards Biola's ass. She was putting on light clothes and I could feel the softness of them on my palm. I could feel my manhood rising and getting harder. Ten seconds after resting my hand on her soft flesh, Biola pushed my hand off. We continued watching the movie again, but she noticed I wasn’t concentrating anymore. I was restless too. “Femi, I don’t expect you to feel this way,” she broke the long silence. "What way do you mean?” I asked in Yoruba. “See, I know I touched your stuff, but you just have to forgive me. I forgot it’s you,” she said. Silence. “So you thought I was who?” I broke the awkward silence. “My boyfriend,” she said and paused. Damn! Words can’t explain how I felt when Biola said that, but I knew the feeling was awful. I mean I felt jealous on hearing her say she had a boyfriend. I knew I shouldn’t probably feel bad but at that point, I knew I had lost the battle. I had thought Biola would give me green light just like Agatha and Bukola. I wanted her so badly as we lay on the bed facing my laptop. I have grown fond of Biola and wanted to have access to her tempting curves. “You have a boyfriend?” I queried. “Yes, I do. Any problem?” She looked me in the eyes. I quickly averted my eyes and didn’t know what next to say. She seemed so mean at that point. I wanted to ask if she was a virgin but on the second thought, it seemed insensitive and stupid of me. So since she said she had a boyfriend. What’s even the need of knowing when she won’t still allow me to have access to her alluring body. Biola soon realized the movie had lots of sex scenes and she said: "Wo, Femi, change this movie,” she said. “What's the problem?” I asked without turning to look her in the face. “Pastor’s son, what are you even doing with such movies in the first?” Biola suddenly remembered I was a Pastor's son. All this while she didn’t realize I was the son of a pastor. “What should I have in my system instead?” “Christian movies that teach good morals,” she taunted, smiling sheepishly. She clicked on my folder and searched for another movie. Not long after she started a new movie, her phone rang. She quickly picked it up from the bed and swiped right. “Hello,” she began. I turned down the volume of the system so I could hear whatever she said and if possible hear from the other side. I was so interested to know who could be calling her by that time of the night, so I paid rapt attention. And she thought I turned down the volume in her favor. “Ife mi, Bawaoni?” Biola added to my discomfort. She meant my love, how are you? I guess it was her supposed boyfriend on the other side. Biola was all smiles. I had my eyes glued to my system but my ears were wide open to their conversation. I turned ‘olofofo' that I didn’t want to miss anything. Five—ten—fifteen minutes, and yet Biola was still on call. It wasn’t going well with me. I felt jealous. I had never spoken lengthy on the phone with any girl. Never had a girlfriend, too. Biola went on with the call—sharing the recent happenings with her supposed boyfriend. She talked about the funeral—and how she decided to stay back and spend time with her brother’s wife. I thought she would mention my name along the line but nothing of such came through her mouth. At intervals, she busted out in laughter. I hate to admit that I was damn jealous and at the same time pissed off. And she seemed not interested to know how I felt. When finally Biola ended the call, I observed the time in my system, appropriately, she spent fifty minutes on a call. I was wowed. Not even a WhatsApp voice call. His supposed boyfriend must be doing pretty well to have spent so much on the call. Biola was smiling sheepishly while her phone led light illuminated her face. About fifteen minutes later, light was restored; the blue bulb in the room illuminated and likewise did other bulbs in the house. Segun and Aramide would have screamed “Up Nepa” but they were all fast asleep, my Aunt inclusive. Biola left my room and returned after ten minutes or so. She said she wanted to do one of her school assignments before going to bed. I knew she had just a few days before going back to Lagos. She joined me in the bed again. I was still busy with my system ( this time I wasn’t watching movies again) while Biola concentrated on her books. About an hour later, I turned in Biola's direction and she had already fallen asleep with her books by her side. I carefully removed her books from the bed without waking her up so she wouldn’t mistakenly get them torn. I looked down at her ass and felt like touching it again. That feeling of having a second feeling of her flesh enveloped me. I kept a steady gaze at it while my hand was advancing. Not until I overheard a sound from the door. I quickly turned and pretended and closed my eyes. Then someone walked in. My heart thudded against my rib. I remained unmoved still and pretended to be fast asleep. I couldn’t think of any other person except my Aunt. I did perceive her aura and when was close to the door, about to go, I opened my left eye and saw it was her. That was how I lay there calmly and dozed off. Around 3 am it started raining and there was no light anymore. And then I felt Biola's hand on my back. She was sleeping talking but I didn’t understand what she was saying. She was gradually cuddling me and getting closer. I felt she was probably feeling cold or something, so I remained calm. I already had enough embarrassment and I didn’t want her to shun me again. She could be dramatic and unpredictable. But Biola continued rubbing her hands on my back. Her legs too were moving but it all seemed like was making love with someone in her dream. Her eyes were shut but she was all over me. My heart was beating faster unknown to her. She finally took my left hand and squeezed it between her legs. This was the end of my patience and I was finally sure she wanted the flow. I knew it was immoral but that was what I had been doing with Bukola and Agatha. Biola shouldn’t be exceptional, even when I knew she had a boyfriend, yet I gave in, and slowly, my hands reached for her tits through her silky cloth. And I started squeezing them. She also got my permission and leaned toward me. With time, my hands got a proper grip on her tight tits, and I squeezed them with my full strength. She had already started to enjoy it and was biting her lips out of pleasure. Shortly, her hands shifted from my shoulders to the back of my head, and she strongly pulled my face toward her face. As our lips met, it turned into a wet and strong kiss. I took my hands off her tits and placed them on her unprotected, pulling her closer to me. Soon, our kiss became so passionate that we both started to grasp for air. After kissing each other for a continuous period, we finally allowed each other to breathe. We both were now deeply drowned in our lust and we both had forgotten the right and wrongs. She put her hand on my t-shirt and pulled it off. However, I again wanted to taste her sweet mouth, so I again started kissing her. Shortly, her hand reached for my cock, and she started to rub her hand on my crotch. My cock felt her strong rub, and it started throbbing. My cock was now fully hard and had created a huge bulge in my shorts. This increased my horniness, and I started to kiss her with as much intensity as I could. Soon, my cock started hurting, and I felt the need to get rid of my boxers. My cock was throbbing so hard that I was struggling to pull it out. But Biola didn't want me to pull it yet. Now, I thought that I had to take further action or all this will end and never come again. I held her face with both my hands in front of mine and looked into her eyes. Biola's eyes were glittering with joy and they were asking for more. The heat from our bodies was emerging like a fire and was burning inside both of us. That fire was rising with every passing second. She asked me, “You really want to do this?" This sentence made me hornier and I said “yes” with just my eyes. She grabbed me and we started rolling on the bedsheet like two dogs on heat period. The room was enveloped with darkness, we could only see through the window. We kept rolling and suddenly we got to the end of the end unknown to us, I was on top of her, and that was how I landed on the tiled floor with my head. I yelled loudly in anguish as blood flooded the floor. Biola was panicking that she didn't get to wear her clothes before my Aunt rushed in. To be continued. ©Frank The Writer _______ Please, Like Comment, and Share!!! Don't be a ghost reader. Follow my Facebook page: Frank The Writer Or use the link below to follow. https://www.facebook.com/FrankWriter1 |
WAACUT:Thanks. |
Therock5555:Lol... Why do you ask? Let me pretend to be a normal Nigerian by answering your question with another question. ![]() Thanks for the compliment tho. |
I'm a fiction addict I'm a ghostwriter I write scripts too. Hit me up on WhatsApp if you need my services or you want a collabo 09063881724 |
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ... 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 (of 24 pages)
oMo, this story sweet pass any thing. Femi dad just reminds me of my dad
