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Nairaland Forum / Entertainment / Literature / Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) (39893 Views)
Chronicles Of A Pastor That Ordained Himself / My Friend's Son (18+) / Part 1 Sex Between Me & Son (18+ Only) (2) (3) (4)
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Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by pyro10(m): 10:52am On Jun 23, 2022 |
Finally the initiation, welcome femi One Caribbean LOUD for you 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by preshman22: 1:08pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Frank you are a very good writer.. I admire your consistency in updating this story I imagine that you poured your soul into the writing of this piece, and the authenticity shows I wish all Nairaland writers were more like you I know it is not easy but please keep up the good work Two bottles of odogwu bitters for you ![]() 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by samtoolz(m): 1:54pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Papa bomboy 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by Cossybob(m): 3:32pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Damn nigga “No man can do the things of God, except He is with him.” I hope you don't get her pregnant though. 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by Cossybob(m): 3:45pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
@Frankwriter I really admire how composed you were going straight to the point without derails of any sort. Kudos to you mah nigga. I will like to be like you when I grow up ![]() ![]() Meanwhile, I'm confused if this story is considered to be a prose or a drama(prose-drama) or should we just call it a short story ![]() 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 6:38pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Adesina12: Lol... Send the popcorn 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 6:39pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
3 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 6:39pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
preshman22: Thanks, man. 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 6:44pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Cossybob: Lol... We will find out soon 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by pyro10(m): 7:03pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
Ok...... frankwriter: 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by Caseywilliams(m): 7:27pm On Jun 23, 2022 |
[quote author=frankwriter post=114091679] I don't deal on LOUD Bunk man, give am Off_white leave loud. ![]() ![]() ![]() 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by YoungBruzzy(m): 8:48am On Jun 24, 2022 |
Damn you Femi ![]() Wehdone OP 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 10:17pm On Jun 24, 2022 |
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!�♥ 6 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 10:20pm On Jun 24, 2022 |
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 |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by Jayoungika: 8:44pm On Jun 25, 2022 |
More pls 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by pyro10(m): 6:14pm On Jun 26, 2022 |
Good write up, What's up with the update nau, it's taking century 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 10:51pm On Jun 26, 2022 |
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. 5 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by YoungBruzzy(m): 7:55am On Jun 27, 2022 |
Thanks a lot OP. This boy don dey deviate from God’s plan for his life. More ink to your pen boss 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by GoldenGTV(m): 8:51am On Jun 27, 2022 |
Nice one 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 4:34am On Jun 29, 2022 |
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 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 4:34am On Jun 29, 2022 |
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 5 Likes 1 Share |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by YoungBruzzy(m): 1:33pm On Jun 29, 2022 |
Thanks for the update OP 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by mrdoye: 3:31pm On Jun 29, 2022 |
nice story 2 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 2:35pm On Jul 01, 2022 |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 2:36pm On Jul 01, 2022 |
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 9 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by YoungBruzzy(m): 3:55pm On Jul 01, 2022 |
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Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by pyro10(m): 5:03pm On Jul 04, 2022 |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by YoungBruzzy(m): 8:15pm On Jul 04, 2022 |
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Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 11:01pm On Jul 04, 2022 |
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. |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 11:03pm On Jul 04, 2022 |
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!! ------------ 7 Likes |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by pyro10(m): 12:43am On Jul 05, 2022 |
Cool story.. Buh..... It takes ages for update.... 1 Like |
Re: Diary Of A Pastor's Son (18+) by frankwriter(m): 11:29am On Jul 05, 2022 |
pyro10: No. It doesn't take ages. Just one day one and day off. You didn't see the reason why I stopped? ![]() 2 Likes |
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