₦airaland Forum

danielck22:
How much will you pay??

danielck22:
I swear my brother, not just on this thread. The thing just tire me say i come jam am AGAIN.

danielck22:
Ahn Ahn!!! Madam, do you have to quote the whole thing 2 GOOD TIMES just to type "following", SMH Nairalanders can be funny .

[quote author=Treasure17 post=77621674]The person behind Taniaa moniker go stubborn outside nairaland. Thanks for the update.

ToyinOlorunsola:
{This story was first written by TomiDanesi under another title. The story has been reviewed and re-titled 'Captives of Lust.' It is an interesting reading. Enjoy}

Ann 2012
LightQueen
Remite011
FairCritic
Rachealfst
boomssey
cuddlebunnys
aphroditee
ashatoda
ifunaya01
AmaUwana
dawno2008
Silensa
mykell247
skubido
amiable990
Fetula4u
frbona
xoxocandy
winnairaking100
solidlove
1felix
eaddyboy
akanji44
izaray

Please, don't be angry if you are not mentioned.

All my dear friends and fellow Nairalanders are welcome.



CAPTIVES OF LUST


(c) Copyright. 2019.




Funmi is a wife of a rich business mogul. She has everything going on well in her life. The appearance of Nancy on the scene threatens to sweep Funmi’s husband away and to destroy everything Funmi has labored for. She will not take this. She is prepared to go to any length to fight for what she believes is hers, including street fighting.
However, the fight goes beyond the physical, and thankfully, she soon realizes this. As for the man, he too realizes that the affair with the other lady is nothing other than an experience of captivity.



Toyin Olorunsola











The big store had assorted goods - both local and exotic. Nancy was happy she had more than enough options to make. She selected the items she had planned to buy. She must not forget the perfumes and wines.

As it was Saturday morning, the place was bristling with customers. The weather was good and was an encouraging factor to outdoor activities. There was no better time for shopping, too.

She went to the counter to pay for her items. She would be paying through the POS today. The lady that took the payments smiled
perfunctorily at her. Nancy smiled back. A small queue was already forming behind her. She took her two bags containing her purchases and
moved to the exit.

Another smile awaited her at the exit door. In addition, the security attendant touched the peak of his cap in salutation. His crisp uniform
reminded her of military officers. Nancy waved and moved on.

It was just eleven in the morning, but the sun had come out in full force. African sun is never shy about radiance. It was already blazing like
one eager to display its sheeny splendor. Nancy put on her sunglasses and moved briskly to her car in the lot.

She opened the boot of the Toyota. The car still looked and smelled new. She became its proud owner some months back, when it was gifted
by someone close to her heart. Nancy had been glad about the generous gesture. Was there a lady that would not be?

She was still arranging the bags in the booth when a hand tapped her shoulders from behind. She turned to look.

'Are you not Nancy?' The woman's voice was imperative. The expression was more assertive than inquisitive. Behind her was a man who
dressed like a chauffeur.

She was on the plump side and looked like someone who had a good life and who would stop at nothing to get what she desired. She was in
t-shirt and jeans trousers, which appeared tight for her voluptuous thighs.

There was something impetuous about the way she talked.

'Yes. Can I help you?' Nancy's answer was short and expectant.

The plump woman shook her head. 'You're the one that needs help. You are the one to help yourself. I just came to warn you. I want to warn
you to desist from going out with my husband.'

Nancy looked shocked. 'Who're you, and what're you talking about?'

'Don't you pretend with me.' The strange woman's voice had gone up. Still, it looked like she would gladly increase the tempo. 'I'm warning
you to stop your prostitution with Biyi. Why are you going out with him? Don't you know he is happily married? Look at you. You're just a
common prostitute! A LovePeddler! A useless LovePeddler!'

It was obvious the woman was ready for trouble. Nancy decided not say anything further. She closed the boot of the car and moved towards
the door.

The woman followed her. 'I've only come today to warn you.' The agitation in her voice was unmistakable. 'Next time, I won't be so nice with
you. You should be ashamed of yourself. Just look at you. What did he see in you self? What is special about you?'

Nancy remained mute. She opened the right , front door of the car.

'Just look at her! Shameless idiot! Can't you look for your own man?!'

The woman grabbed Nancy's top before she could enter the car and tore it. Her movements were as swift as a combatant. Not satisfied, she
grabbed the strap of Nancy's bra and pulled.


(To be continued)


Comments, criticism and observations are highly welcome. The book is already published and is available on: https://m.okadabooks.com/book/about/captives_of_lust/25567

LarrySun:
PROLOGUE

(Update 1)

The 1st Deadly Sin

There was no way she could know who the father was, for at least seven different men usually slept with her every day. She was the cheapest prostitute on the block, and practically every man could afford her. If you had two coins to rub together, you could easily get into Charity’s panties; not that she usually wore panties anyway. All you had to do was hike up her skirt to gain easy access. Just like her name implied, Charity was charitable indeed. Maybe she suffered a defect in dignity at a tender age, no one could tell; but it seemed as such because she had never said no to a demand of sexual congress. Anything for the money, that was her slogan. You didn’t need to be good-looking to lay with Charity; hell, you didn’t even need to be rich, just find a random coin and she would be all yours until you ejaculated. Why Charity chose to be so cheap was a mystery, for she was the most beautiful prostitute of her time who could be a lot richer by choosing rich clients. Her eyes were large and bright, her lips full and soft, she had a pointed nose and the right curves belonged in the right places. She was a voluptuous goddess. Men deserted their wives to get between her legs, and wives had fought her a lot of times for seducing their husbands. But in reality, Charity didn’t seduce them, they always come by their own volition – and who was she to say no to them. Her sexy body made her irresistible; her breasts were full and firm to the touch. Well-meaning men had offered her marriage but she always turned every one of them down. She would not allow herself to be tied down by the sanctity of marriage. She could not bear the horror of being with one man for the rest of her life, of sleeping with only one person all her life. No, she preferred the freedom to use her body as she pleased. She enjoyed the excitement of not only having random men sleep with her, but also the disabled like the hunchbacked, the crippled and the general imbeciles; she always found the romp with these special people strangely exciting. Charity was a beautiful prostitute without class. Every day and night, men always lined up at her doorway to have her; and she was always ready to service them all.

When she discovered that she was pregnant, Charity didn’t take it serious. She continued with her business without caring a tiny bit about it. This was an unwanted pregnancy but she didn’t do anything about it. She was too busy servicing men to bother herself about the growing foetus. She knew what she would do; she was going to abort it but she was too busy to have the time for that. She kept pushing her abortion appointment forward till the seventh month when the pregnancy had already matured. The abortionist had informed her, however, that the pregnancy had grown beyond abortion stage, and she might lose her life if she went on with it. The man had advised her to keep the pregnancy and give birth to the child. Charity had shrugged indifferently and had left the man’s office, only after the man had had his way with her, of course.

Her pregnancy grew bigger than a watermelon but the men didn’t mind. She was too beautiful to resist. They kept sleeping with her and pouring more sperm on the head of her baby. Many times during the sexual intercourse, she always wondered if the child in her was not running the risk of getting pregnant too for the amount of sperm that usually baptized her on a daily basis; she eventually agreed that it was impossible. She looked even more beautiful with her pregnancy. Her fair complexion shone golden like mercury, her jet-black hair grew longer. Her skin, soft to the touch, was of caramel smoothness. Because of her pregnant state, the men had her from behind in the doggy way. Charity would be damned if she allowed the child in her to keep her from enjoying herself to the fullest. She had never had any pregnancy before and at twenty-eight she still wasn’t ready to be a mother. She didn’t give a thought to what she would do with the child if she was finally born.

A man was on top of her when her water broke. The man had initially thought he was screwing her so hard that she was squirting; and so he had kept on pounding her without knowing she was in labour – he wouldn’t really care even if he knew. She held in the pain until the man was done. Then she gathered up herself , told the other waiting men that business had closed for the day, and then sought out the abortionist.

The abortionist, a quack who fancied himself a bona fide doctor, was an opportunistic son of a gun. He still had his way with charity before helping her to bring the baby to the world.

Charity gave birth to a girl, amidst various random semen.

No one among Charity’s clients had seen any child more beautiful. The baby was loved by all and sundry. Charity received gifts from men and women alike because of the child. Everyone wanted to hold and carry the baby. But Charity herself was indifferent about the child. The baby had no name because she couldn’t think of a befitting name for it. While she breastfed the child, some perverts paid her extra to get breastfed too, and she obliged them of course. The men of raging libidos waited only a week before resuming their task of climbing on her and humping away their sanity.

Charity spent more time with other men than with her daughter. Hell, she spent more time under a man than under a roof. She would put her baby to sleep and attend to her customers. Most times, the baby usually came awake when Charity was having her session with men. She would not attend to the child until she was done. It soon occurred to her that giving birth to that child was a grave mistake. She should have aborted the pregnancy when she had the child. Now the baby was getting in the way of her business, and pleasure. She knew she would have to do something about the child. There was a limit to the amount of hindrance she could take. The men didn’t mind though; as a matter of fact, the cries of the baby usually turned some of them on.

It turned out that some of the men who patronized her were paedophiles. While others were waiting for the child to come of age, some were already offering Charity some money to have their way with the two-month-old baby. She always flew off in anger each time such offers were made. Only sick people would have sexual interests towards babies. Now whenever men complimented her beautiful child, she always suspected such compliments. Vultures circled her; they were waiting for her to turn her face so that they could feast on the innocent child.

She was a wrong mother for the child, she agreed. She was not worthy of taking care of such an innocent girl. Her kind of life was not suitable for such a child. Besides, if she managed to train the child well, there were others willing to take advantage. There was only one thing left for her to do – she had to carry that child far away from herself; she had no family member, and there was nobody she could trust enough to leave her daughter with. But the best thing she could do for that child was get rid of her before one crazy customer would, in a drunken state, jizz on the child’s face.
Very early one morning, before the first cock crew, Charity carried her daughter and left the house. She travelled as far away as the outskirts of Lagos until she found what she was searching for. It was still very dark but she could see the signboard at the top of the entrance: Lagos City Orphanage. Tears rushed to her face as she stared at the innocent child. The baby giggled in the silent night and grabbed her mother’s little finger. Charity tried to take off her hand but the child held it in a firm grip. It seemed as if the baby was not ready to let her go.

She carefully wrapped her daughter in a shawl and gently laid her on the concrete doorstep. She took off her necklace and put it round the child’s neck. Charity kissed her daughter’s forehead and turned her back to leave. Then she stopped. She wanted to leave but couldn’t. There was something holding her back. She felt she owed the baby something. She tried to remember but the task seemed to be eluding him. It was something important. She might regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t carry it out. But she couldn’t remember! It was so frustrating!

Then it occurred to her. A name!

She had to name the baby. It would be wrong to have a total stranger give name to her child. Apart from the necklace she put around the baby’s neck; there must be something else to show that she was a part of her daughter’s life. It was entirely her right to name her child – it was her responsibility. She brought the child to the world, she should give the child a name, no else should. She thought deeply about what name to give the child. She thought about the name Christine but dismissed it almost immediately; it was too English. She wanted a saintly name for the child was a saint but it shouldn’t be too foreign either. She considered a biblical name, thought about a befitting name for a female saint. Then it occurred to her. She reached into her arm-bag and brought out a jotter from which she tore out a page. She wrote only one word on the page:

MARIA.

xoxocandy
She placed the paper on the baby’s chest and turned to leave. And for the first time that day, the baby cried. The cry of the child tore through her heart but she didn’t stop; she couldn’t. Her kind of life was not for the innocent baby. She was doing the baby a favour by forsaking her.

cuddlebunnys
The cry was so painful to her that she had to cover her ears as she ran away to drown the child’s cry, and hers. As the baby’s cry died off, so did Charity’s connection with her.

LarrySun:
PROLOGUE

(Update 1)

The 1st Deadly Sin

There was no way she could know who the father was, for at least seven different men usually slept with her every day. She was the cheapest prostitute on the block, and practically every man could afford her. If you had two coins to rub together, you could easily get into Charity’s panties; not that she usually wore panties anyway. All you had to do was hike up her skirt to gain easy access. Just like her name implied, Charity was charitable indeed. Maybe she suffered a defect in dignity at a tender age, no one could tell; but it seemed as such because she had never said no to a demand of sexual congress. Anything for the money, that was her slogan. You didn’t need to be good-looking to lay with Charity; hell, you didn’t even need to be rich, just find a random coin and she would be all yours until you ejaculated. Why Charity chose to be so cheap was a mystery, for she was the most beautiful prostitute of her time who could be a lot richer by choosing rich clients. Her eyes were large and bright, her lips full and soft, she had a pointed nose and the right curves belonged in the right places. She was a voluptuous goddess. Men deserted their wives to get between her legs, and wives had fought her a lot of times for seducing their husbands. But in reality, Charity didn’t seduce them, they always come by their own volition – and who was she to say no to them. Her sexy body made her irresistible; her breasts were full and firm to the touch. Well-meaning men had offered her marriage but she always turned every one of them down. She would not allow herself to be tied down by the sanctity of marriage. She could not bear the horror of being with one man for the rest of her life, of sleeping with only one person all her life. No, she preferred the freedom to use her body as she pleased. She enjoyed the excitement of not only having random men sleep with her, but also the disabled like the hunchbacked, the crippled and the general imbeciles; she always found the romp with these special people strangely exciting. Charity was a beautiful prostitute without class. Every day and night, men always lined up at her doorway to have her; and she was always ready to service them all.

When she discovered that she was pregnant, Charity didn’t take it serious. She continued with her business without caring a tiny bit about it. This was an unwanted pregnancy but she didn’t do anything about it. She was too busy servicing men to bother herself about the growing foetus. She knew what she would do; she was going to abort it but she was too busy to have the time for that. She kept pushing her abortion appointment forward till the seventh month when the pregnancy had already matured. The abortionist had informed her, however, that the pregnancy had grown beyond abortion stage, and she might lose her life if she went on with it. The man had advised her to keep the pregnancy and give birth to the child. Charity had shrugged indifferently and had left the man’s office, only after the man had had his way with her, of course.

Her pregnancy grew bigger than a watermelon but the men didn’t mind. She was too beautiful to resist. They kept sleeping with her and pouring more sperm on the head of her baby. Many times during the sexual intercourse, she always wondered if the child in her was not running the risk of getting pregnant too for the amount of sperm that usually baptized her on a daily basis; she eventually agreed that it was impossible. She looked even more beautiful with her pregnancy. Her fair complexion shone golden like mercury, her jet-black hair grew longer. Her skin, soft to the touch, was of caramel smoothness. Because of her pregnant state, the men had her from behind in the doggy way. Charity would be damned if she allowed the child in her to keep her from enjoying herself to the fullest. She had never had any pregnancy before and at twenty-eight she still wasn’t ready to be a mother. She didn’t give a thought to what she would do with the child if she was finally born.

A man was on top of her when her water broke. The man had initially thought he was screwing her so hard that she was squirting; and so he had kept on pounding her without knowing she was in labour – he wouldn’t really care even if he knew. She held in the pain until the man was done. Then she gathered up herself , told the other waiting men that business had closed for the day, and then sought out the abortionist.

The abortionist, a quack who fancied himself a bona fide doctor, was an opportunistic son of a gun. He still had his way with charity before helping her to bring the baby to the world.

Charity gave birth to a girl, amidst various random semen.

No one among Charity’s clients had seen any child more beautiful. The baby was loved by all and sundry. Charity received gifts from men and women alike because of the child. Everyone wanted to hold and carry the baby. But Charity herself was indifferent about the child. The baby had no name because she couldn’t think of a befitting name for it. While she breastfed the child, some perverts paid her extra to get breastfed too, and she obliged them of course. The men of raging libidos waited only a week before resuming their task of climbing on her and humping away their sanity.

Charity spent more time with other men than with her daughter. Hell, she spent more time under a man than under a roof. She would put her baby to sleep and attend to her customers. Most times, the baby usually came awake when Charity was having her session with men. She would not attend to the child until she was done. It soon occurred to her that giving birth to that child was a grave mistake. She should have aborted the pregnancy when she had the child. Now the baby was getting in the way of her business, and pleasure. She knew she would have to do something about the child. There was a limit to the amount of hindrance she could take. The men didn’t mind though; as a matter of fact, the cries of the baby usually turned some of them on.

It turned out that some of the men who patronized her were paedophiles. While others were waiting for the child to come of age, some were already offering Charity some money to have their way with the two-month-old baby. She always flew off in anger each time such offers were made. Only sick people would have sexual interests towards babies. Now whenever men complimented her beautiful child, she always suspected such compliments. Vultures circled her; they were waiting for her to turn her face so that they could feast on the innocent child.

She was a wrong mother for the child, she agreed. She was not worthy of taking care of such an innocent girl. Her kind of life was not suitable for such a child. Besides, if she managed to train the child well, there were others willing to take advantage. There was only one thing left for her to do – she had to carry that child far away from herself; she had no family member, and there was nobody she could trust enough to leave her daughter with. But the best thing she could do for that child was get rid of her before one crazy customer would, in a drunken state, jizz on the child’s face.
Very early one morning, before the first cock crew, Charity carried her daughter and left the house. She travelled as far away as the outskirts of Lagos until she found what she was searching for. It was still very dark but she could see the signboard at the top of the entrance: Lagos City Orphanage. Tears rushed to her face as she stared at the innocent child. The baby giggled in the silent night and grabbed her mother’s little finger. Charity tried to take off her hand but the child held it in a firm grip. It seemed as if the baby was not ready to let her go.

She carefully wrapped her daughter in a shawl and gently laid her on the concrete doorstep. She took off her necklace and put it round the child’s neck. Charity kissed her daughter’s forehead and turned her back to leave. Then she stopped. She wanted to leave but couldn’t. There was something holding her back. She felt she owed the baby something. She tried to remember but the task seemed to be eluding him. It was something important. She might regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t carry it out. But she couldn’t remember! It was so frustrating!

Then it occurred to her. A name!

She had to name the baby. It would be wrong to have a total stranger give name to her child. Apart from the necklace she put around the baby’s neck; there must be something else to show that she was a part of her daughter’s life. It was entirely her right to name her child – it was her responsibility. She brought the child to the world, she should give the child a name, no else should. She thought deeply about what name to give the child. She thought about the name Christine but dismissed it almost immediately; it was too English. She wanted a saintly name for the child was a saint but it shouldn’t be too foreign either. She considered a biblical name, thought about a befitting name for a female saint. Then it occurred to her. She reached into her arm-bag and brought out a jotter from which she tore out a page. She wrote only one word on the page:

MARIA.

xoxocandy
She placed the paper on the baby’s chest and turned to leave. And for the first time that day, the baby cried. The cry of the child tore through her heart but she didn’t stop; she couldn’t. Her kind of life was not for the innocent baby. She was doing the baby a favour by forsaking her.

cuddlebunnys
The cry was so painful to her that she had to cover her ears as she ran away to drown the child’s cry, and hers. As the baby’s cry died off, so did Charity’s connection with her.