story written by miss erotica

A story written by Missy Erotica. I lived not too far from where I work, and being very hungry, I decided to buy some eggs from the Aboki by the junction to my area then walk home. It was a bit cold as it had rained all day, but nothing I couldn’t handle. Still, when the newer model Tuareg had pulled up beside me and asked if I wanted a ride, I was glad for the warmth of the car and didn’t hesitate in sliding into the empty passenger seat and thanking the driver. The driver was a stunningly beautiful, busty and from the way her Buttocks was positioned on the car seat, well-endowed woman and wearing a wig as I know no African woman’s hair could be that long or curly. She had on the shortest dress I have ever seen on a woman, with the seat belt bunching it further up until it was almost possible to see the patch of her Kittycat. She had full sensuous red lips that I imagined wrapped around my Joystick. The mental vision created a bulge in my pants. “I’m Jo,” she said in a husky voice, “Where are you headed?” “Just up the road, two streets to the left” I replied. “I live around that area too, I believe the second street from yours. Never seen you before though. And I know virtually all the men in this area. You must be new around here” She said. “Fairly new,” I replied, “I just got the apartment a few months ago.” “Ok,” she said, “Probably take a little while to get settled in with your family.” “There’s no family yet, I’m single,” I said looking at her, thinking, she wants a F**K. “Just me.” “That so,” she said smiling slightly and seductively, “So you live alone?” Having gotten Hot from just thinking of those lips and mammoth Bosom trying to escape their confines, I was beginning to think my night was looking even better. “Yes, completely alone,” I replied smiling back. ? ?My smile turned to fright as a cloth was immediately clasped over my mouth and nose from someone who had apparently been hiding in the backseat. I grabbed the hands of my assailant, trying to get the cloth from my face, but it was a strong hand and after fighting for what seemed like a short time, my world went dark. I awoke to find myself strapped down across a bench. My hands and knees were tied to the 4 legs of the bench and my head was strapped sideways and down so it was unmovable. My mouth was held open with some type of metal ring, but the inside of the ring was well padded. I tested the ropes around my wrists and found them to be very secure, but my movements apparently attracted the attention of my captor who began speaking to me. “Back with us I see,” she said in that same voice. I tried to ask what was going on, but only managed some garbled sounds. “We were on our way to town looking for someone to bring home with us and here you were nice enough to volunteer,” she said. Photo of Byron Bay - one of Australia's best beaches! “Et ne uff,” I tried to say, only managing to drool on myself. “I can’t understand you,” she said in a sarcastic way, “but that doesn’t matter. You see, we’re all Hot, so we needed someone to F**K for the night. If you’re a good boy and behave, you’ll be let go tomorrow. If you’re not, you’ll be F***ed anyway and the squirming might even make it more fun. You will be F***ed to our satisfaction. John here will be your teacher for the night.” ?With that comment, I saw a torso step in front of me. Hanging from the crotch was a Joystick that was semi hard and looked to be about 8 inches long. I then found why I had the ring in my mouth and my head strapped so. My head was sideways and my mouth pointed forward and his Joystick slid nicely through the ring and into my mouth. As he worked it back and forth in my mouth, I tasted the pre-Pour on my tongue. As he F***ed my mouth, I felt the mushroom head of a rather thick Joystick press open my Buttocks and slowly slide into me; I tried squirming, trying to remove the Joystick from my Buttocks. I have sucked Joystick, had a finger or two stuck into my Buttocks but never had a real Joystick stuck in me. Part of me resented being tied up and taken, but another part of me was thinking, try and make the best of a bad situation. But try as much as I could, the Joystick invading my Buttocks was painful as it tried to force its way through my anal ring. The owner then removed the Joystick making me heave a sigh of relief which was short lived as I felt something cold being inserted into my asshole with a finger. I guess it must be some lubricant. I wasn’t wrong as the finger was replaced by the Joystick again and without preamble, the owner shoved it all the way into my guts. I tried to scream through the Joystick in my mouth and struggled to be free of my bonds but I was tied up real good. As the guy behind me shoved his Joystick into my Buttocks and I groaned as the pain of it forcing its way past my assring tore through me. The guy ignored my screams and after making sure he was seated deeply in my Buttocks started thrusting faster and faster and I felt my own Joystick grow in excitement. Strange!

To Be Continued…

Read part two at: http://proudlynations.com.ng/2016/01/enslaved-securityman-21-part-2/

“Ekaette! Eka…..where is that girl sef?”

My ten year old son peered at me over his handheld game.

“Hmmm, if you’re planning to give her those clothes to wash, I guess you’re intending never to wear them again. Who knows, this time she might wash them in engine oil!”

I looked at the clothes in my hands. He had a point. A good point. In fact, a very good point. The clothes included the white shirts I wore with suits to work during the week and a pair of purple colour-fast shirts that had been distributed to volunteer mothers at Church in preparation for the oncoming children’s week. If I asked Ekaette to wash them, I would probably end up with twelve purple or lilac coloured shirts that were once white.

“Madam”, the tiny, wiry girl appeared in the doorway, wiping her wet hands on her skirt. A skirt I had bought the previous week for goodness sakes!

“What are you doing?” I asked, choosing to ignore the now well stained, bright yellow skirt. How many times had I told her to use an apron? I might as well have been talking to a rock, anyways.

“I dey wash plate for kitchen ma.” She responded, my eyes still managing to catch the wet hands as they left tracks on the skirt I had bought for three thousand naira.

“Are you sure?” I asked. I had to. I lived with the secret fear that one day, she would set fire to the house and not even know it. And my son seemed to read my mind.

“Yes ma,” she replied.

“Don’t worry mum,” Daniel, my son said. “I don’t smell smoke. The house is not yet on fire.”

Well, at any rate, I knew that washing the dishes was one of the few things she could do competently without causing a small catastrophe. Still, I made a mental note to make sure she had been washing the dishes with the liquid detergent and not kerosene. Goodness knows they looked similar and in Ekaette’s mind, similar meant no difference.

“Anyway, don’t worry,” I said, dismissing her for the good of my white shirts. “You can go back to the kitchen.”

With a “yes ma” and a curtsy, she swept away back to the kitchen.

“Hmmm,” muttered Daniel, getting up from where he was seated. “I’d better follow her to make sure she isn’t drying those plates with my towel or washing the fish again.”

And for good reason too. Ekaette’s stay with us had lasted slightly over a month so far and had been one hell of a ride, from inducing heart wrenching frustration to causing rib cracking laughter, this girl’s presence in our house had become quite something. Even visitors to the house had taken to asking after “that funny, tiny girl in your house” after just one encounter with Ekaette, especially Sola, my colleague from work into whose tea Ekaette had poured salt instead of sugar when she had come visiting. I must admit in retrospect that seeing Sola gag after swallowing a mouthful of salted tea was priceless. And the event had quite endeared the crazy girl to Sola.

Normally, I would have preferred to stay without a house help (and till her arrival slightly over a month ago, I had lived without one for the fifteen years I’ve been married to my husband). However, my mother had come visiting once and I had retailed to her the challenges I was having with to deal with over house work, the kids and my work (my husband was as undemanding as awesome so no problems there). She sat there and nodded her head as mothers always do when they’ve made a decision for you that they had no intention of telling you about. When she came visiting again two weeks later, it was with the small, wiry pack of wahala called Ekaette......CONTINUE READING HERE:- http://proudlynations.com.ng/2016/01/ekaette/

Studies have shown that that two per cent of the global population earns gargantuan income while the remaining ninety-eight per cent are poor… The two per cent shares fifty per cent of the world’s wealth, while the remaining ninety-eight per cent shared the remaining fifty per cent…
***

The boy stared into the darkness that engulfed him. His father; a man of thirty-five year old looked at him with curiosity as the boy’s mother lit the room with a candle. The boy didn’t move even as his father moved towards his position. His father touched him on his shoulder, then he knelt down, letting his knees touch that of the boy who was seated on a small chair not more than one foot in height.

“I know you are sad that we didn’t buy you anything for your birthday.” His father said. “But then, I have a surprise for you.”

The boy’s face lit up, “What is it?” he asked, “A bicycle?”

The man got red in his face. The boy didn’t see it though. The darkness covered all facial expression. He contained his anger, restricting it only to his face. His voice even sounded much calmer than it was. He touched the boy’s cheeks with his palms.

“You know I can’t afford that. Bear with what we give you. Things cannot be the same forever. One day, I will be able to buy you a car, a house and even an aeroplane.” He looked unto the ceiling which begged for replacement. He stretched his right index finger up towards it. “My God, I know you would never leave me, never.”

The boy looked still, not understanding his father. Moments like this weren’t rare in occurrence. He knew what would happen next, so he stood up and moved to unroll the raffia mat which he usually sleeps on. He then dropped on it, and slowly waited for sleep to take over.

***
The afternoon was hot. I mean real hot......CONTINUE READING HERE:- http://proudlynations.com.ng/2016/01/a-glass-of-riches/

Oh lonely comforting memories
Tis in thee I’m made brave
Though old, it still lingers fresh on my mind
How though old but really new as dew
Old sweet memories

Oh strange befitting memories
How pleasant thy treasures had been
How thou strong but each feeling make me weak
Perpetual and outstanding old sweet memories
You’ve made a man out of a boy

Oh old sweet feelings
How great thy memories had been
Tis what I kept behind the sand of time
Even when I ceased to exist
I’ll be glad I’d left a treasure behind

Pains and gains
Our memories was never in vain
Though some had to shed tears
Yet many were provided with shades
Oh sweet and old memories

No gift ever valuable
No happiness ever lasting
Like the feelings of these sweet memories
However old and long
Its thoughts are ever new and will be everlasting

How soon had many great men been forgotten
Not for lack of great wealth and power
For if only it were to be these
Their names will ceaselessly cease to exist
What counts is far beyond the riches of this world

The memory of love, care and impact
Left in the hearts of many
Who from generation to generation
Even while you’re gone
Still felt your impact and presence
In their lives

What memory have you left behind?
Is it that easily pushed aside?
Perhaps that remembered just but a while?
Riches may speak less but not more of you
When you’re in the world beyond
Its only this sweet old memory suddenly
And daily becoming new.

more at http://proudlynations.com.ng/2016/01/old-sweet-memories/

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Uncle, please stop, Funmi begged.
The begging wasn’t exactly the kind of that was meant to be honoured.
And here is my reason why.
Funmi is a 300-level sexy 18-year-old neighbour’s daughter, who always flirts with me especially when she notices I’m leaving my apartment early in the morning. That is when she thinks it is best to go out to buy something or just have some business outside.
She is always clad in either singlet or t-shirt that is really tight, with no bra underneath. Not wanting to be the Hot uncle, I always try as much as possible to look away. But she always seem so excited and actually stands in my way, forcing me to stare at those nipples aggressively visible on the shirt. The angle where the nipples sit on her chest, makes me wonder how incredibly perky those boobs are.
I would greet her and look up, smile a little and move on, ask her about her folks and just be nice generally.
I wasn’t feeling so good this particular day, so I left work early. I went straight home.
I went to The Palms to buy grub. My main aim was to go home, relax, catch up on a new show and just relax and enjoy my mini day off. As I got home, I carried the plastic bags with my laptop bag. I wasn’t struggling with them really and proceeded to my flat where I met Funmi on the stairs. She was fully dressed as she was going somewhere. She quizzed me about coming home early. I gave her the response like I usually would, not looking at her face.
She looked at me with pity and collected the bag from me. I was already at my door hence I didn’t need help, but I couldn’t talk her out of it. She followed me into my apartment, helped put them in the fridge. Then she put the grub on the table for me to eat. I came back to the living room in shorts and a shirt as I didn’t trust myself with Funmi. I didn’t wear my boxer short, but knee-length shorts.
She asked for a favour. She wanted my help with a Maths assignment from school. I said no wahala.
I continued watching my show and eating. My air conditioner had kicked in. It was cold everywhere. Funmi strolled back in, with bum shorts and the singlet and as usual, without her bra. I was forced to ask why she undressed.

She claimed she just got back from school when I saw her.
She sat at the dining table, opened her book and buried her head in the assignment. I walked over to the dining table and sat beside her to look at the assignment. It was differentiation, which I could help with, but the sight of the boobs was a big distraction for me. I stood up and went behind her back, bent in beside her head and my hands went directly for her boobs.....Continue reading here:- http://proudlynations.com.ng/2016/01/the-friendly-neigbhour-18-by-deolububble/

ITS STORY TIME WITH www.proudlynations.com.ng

This is another new story by me. Hope you enjoy it. It's a very short one. Maybe 2 or 3 episodes.

©Sowole Simisola
THE SILENCE

EPISODE ONE

I woke up drenched in sweat. I looked around frightened and tapped my roommate. Emeka lazily turned as he slept. It was lights out and I was afraid of switching on the light. I quickly switched on my little torch. I just had another bad dream. Mum always accused my daddy's family anytime she had nightmares. I wondered if they were after me too. I stayed awake till the next day. Emeka called one of the juniors to fetch him water to have his bath. I never sent any junior on errand. I preferred going myself but a certain junior voluntarily did my works for me. I was in S.s2 and was very smart. Emeka and I were the smartest and represented our school in different competitions. We were also given a special room where we stayed together.
Emeka wanted to be the headboy, I didn't really care. I just wanted to pass all my exams. I was a quiet teenage boy and quite handsome too. I didn't really have a girlfriend but Thelma another smart girl always did naughty things with me. And she was Emeka's crush. I couldn't tell him what we always do. Thelma and I hid in the uncompleted building in the school compound. "Are you sure nobody is watching? " I asked frightened. She simply placed my hand on her breasts and let me feel them. She thought I was in love with her. I couldn't tell her I wasn't. We did that for some minutes and then she began to unbutton her shirt when something moved. I held her hand quickly looking around. I saw a junior pass by. Thelma quickly buttoned up and we left. I didn't see the junior's face.
After some days I was sitting in the dining when I heard a slap. A boy had slapped the little boy that always helped me on errand. I got very angry and walked to them. "Senior he took my meat and slapped me." The victim cried. Emeka held the offender and dragged him out of the dining hall. The boy struggled with Emeka. He was a new student and very troublesome. I heard he was also from a rich family. I never touched any junior. I always avoided it. Emeka had dragged him to the field and he slapped him. "Your father Yansh!" The junior insulted. Emeka was stunned. "What did you say?" He dared. "Your mother pussy!" The junior rudely added. Emeka in fury kicked him and he fell on the wet grass. The junior didn't cry instead he got up gave us the middle finger and ran away. Emeka tried chasing him but I begged him not to. I wish he did.
I was in the library when a junior came to me. "Senior, Felix has locked himself in the toilet again. He is always doing so." He reported the rude junior to me. I was getting tired of hearing reports about Felix. I went to the toilet and banged on the door. "Hey! Felix open this door!" I commanded. "Go and suck your mum's tits." He retorted. I couldn't stand it again. The junior was already on my nerve. I banged harder. He hissed and opened the door. "The toilet stinks." He simply said. I gave him a slap and dragged him outside. "Don't roughen my cloth." He warned. I laughed and took him to my room.
"So you are also a gay. You handled that girl's breasts well though. " He said when we got to my room. I realised that he was referring to Thelma. I slapped him again. "Your mother is a hoe!" He insulted. I wanted to deal with him. I wish I didn't because it really had an effect on my life. A bad effect that I tried erasing.

WATCHOUT FOR PART 2 OR FIND IT HERE :- http://proudlynations.com.ng

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A story written by Dan Chucks… If you missed part One, read it http://proudlynations.com.ng/2015/11/the-office-called-sodom-18-part-1/

Almost all of us were shocked – not by his apparent shamelessness, but by the enormous size of his Joystick, for someone who was in his mid 50’s! Hilariously enough, Mrs. Funke still refused the invite amid shouts of ‘try him na!’ from the rest of us! Anyways, that was only just to distract us from what followed. For I later caught them at the store during lunch break, fucking the living daylight out of themselves! – Mrs. Funke who had been playing hard-to-get had one of her legs raised to the wall asking Mr. Okon to F**K her faster with his big Joystick! I hid behind the door while taking the time to ferociously rub my Kittycat as I watched them Pour numerous times in ecstasy!

With the way the office was now set, everybody came to work looking forward to getting laid! I came to work with a pack of condoms almost every time knowing that I was only always an instant away from being blatantly screwed by a male staff or a female even. I never wore panties and even brassieres and since my Bosom were still very firm, they would stand confidently, poking through any cloth I was putting on by my taut Tips, as it’s material hugs my skins! Having a Unclad Kittycat underneath meant that all I needed to do was lift a skirt or gown to allow an interested dude to insert a burgeoning dickhead! We had no boundaries and no particular attachments to each other.

Even the Mr. Okon who was fucking Mrs. Funke a few days before, was in my pants before the new week was over! I personally had seen to his seduction as I became unequivocally interested in his big black Joystick as soon as I saw it for the first time! He himself, was prepared and had his condom sachets stacked in his own wallet too.

Same was with the other staff; we all were always hoping for a F**K or two before work was over! And on times when the ladies felt they were not getting enough look-in, they began doing things that would definitely attract the dudes. It was either a situation where all the girls would keep displaying their Unclad cunts under their skirts by spreading their legs without shame consistently, or unbutton their tops claiming they were sweaty and needed to fan themselves.

In fact, I remember a certain Cynthia – we called her Cici; that had to come to work with baby oil smeared all over her heavy Bosom! The Bosom were so outrageously displayed by the plunging neckline of the shirt she was wearing – of which she still left three or more buttons open; that you would think her Tips would spill out! Needless to say what followed as soon as she arrived the office! Kevin, who was only just an intern, dipped his hand into her plunging cleavage and grabbed the alluring melons! They F***ed themselves more than 5 times right at the reception, before work was over! And Tobechi, who we called Busty – because of her enormous Bosom, encouraged them by going topless and swirling and swinging her Bosom all over the place to the delight and entertainment of everybody! Weirdly enough, she was the general office receptionist and paraded the reception the whole day without any top; not even a bra!

What kept cofounding everyone was the person of our Boss – Mr. Festus Obim, under whose watch all these were happening! He always told us he was a liberal man and never believed in being restricted by some silly self-rule called ‘norm’! I was told he was the first person to ever openly discuss s*x in the office with his staff and even went further to exemplify his stand by holding threesomes and foursomes with his secretaries and cleaners right within the office!
and even went further to exemplify his stand by holding threesomes and foursomes with his secretaries and cleaners right within the office!
It was an unbelievable world! When I joined newly, he used to partake in our dirty chitchats, and would even play around with his hands right before everybody, handling and grabbing staff boobies and asses! On one particularly remarkable occasion, he allowed the newest girl in our midst to give him a Mouth Action and then ride his Joystick! As they did so, we applauded and cheered them – while the dudes who couldn’t bear the stimulation, brought out their dicks and wanked them until they spilled their seed!

To Be Continued…or read it here:- http://proudlynations.com.ng/2015/11/the-office-called-sodom-18part-3/

ITS STORY TIME WITH www.proudlynations.com.ng

‘Ben and Stephen Holdings LTD’- which is the firm where I, Daniela work; is simply an extension of the biblical Sodom and Gomorrah, and we all know it! When we are not discussing and analyzing s*x, we are actually practicing the thing! Everybody was a major culprit; from our bosses and their board members down to the secretaries and cleaners! The office was just in stench of s*x, s*x and more s*x! It was difficult to think of my office as anything else other than an organized brothel where the hookers and wh0r£s F***ed themselves instead! In fact, not only did we F**K ourselves, we were even willing to assist any guests who visited us – as long as the guest was willing to get la!d! It was that depraved!

Anyway, my sojourn with the office has gone a little over 4 years now and I have enjoyed every bit of it! I was informed of the vacancy at that time by a very close friend who used to work with the firm back then! Even the way she described the place to me, easily suggested that something wasn’t very normal about the office. I remember seeing her driving to work on one particular morning before the vacancy became available, and couldn’t just accept it was an office she was heading to! She looked more like someone going for a ball dance more than anything else! Her b0s0m were almost spilling out of her shirt’s plunging neckline while the cruelly revealing skirt she wore below was so skimpy that it would quite easily roll up into her hip if she ever had a cause to bend over! She was simply dressed like some stripper and yet still told me she was heading to the office – I was stunned!
Her b0s0m were almost spilling out of her shirt’s plunging neckline

Funny enough though, that became my situation barely a month after I had joined the office! I was quick to discard all the skirts and trouser suits I had shopped for myself against the new job and replaced them with some very raw hot shorts, tops and gowns – most of which were dangerously skimpy! The first time I entered the office wearing one, I looked like a X-trated star and it sent everybody cooing and whistling!

Until I left work that day, everybody – both dudes and girls, took turns to smack and grab my butt0ckz at every opportunity they got! Even my boss, cornered me at his office room as I went in to drop some files, and took his time to handle my b0s0m while inserting his hand underneath my gown to rub my K!ttyC@t! I was already sipping threads of K!ttyC@t cream by the time he let me go! What was the reason? Because I wore a very revealing short yellow gown! It was very tight on my body, causing every body part to scream for attention! And I loved it that way! It was how we went about our jobs at ‘Ben & Stephens LTD’ and we never wished it could end!

What was certain not to happen was having somebody who wasn’t going to be comfortable with our pattern of work, join the office! In fact, I remember one of the board members, Mrs. t!tilayo, ask me specifically if I was still a virgin, during my job interview! To which I told her no! And that didn’t surprise me as my friend Bisi had told me what to expect beforehand even as Mrs. t!tilayo further asked me how I got disvirgined, using the worked ‘F***ed’ while asking me so! Expectedly, the interview transcended into a narration of s*x stories with questions on details of my lewd story coming from all 5 members of the interviewing team! Like you would guess, I was instantly given the job and in less than three days, I had steamy l£sb!an s*x with Mrs. t!tilayo right inside her office! Strangely still, when Mr. Okon, the driver and equally her husband’s brother stepped into the office, thus catching us in the act, he laughed hard and after fingering both of our pussies for a while, turned back and left – telling us he didn’t wish to disturb us too much!! The place was more than just a dream job! It was paradise!

Mrs. Funke who was the deputy records officer, was the only partly-rigid person I met at the office when I first joined.

She was married and had two sons. While she was always more than ready to have s*x chats and discussions with the rest of us, she was never agreeing to having the real s*x with any of the men! Although she had F***ed some of the girls excluding me, getting to F**K her looked rather elusive among the men! But each time Mr. Okon the driver – who had begged and pleaded for her to let him F**K her, came requesting again, she would bluntly say no! Nobody knew what her real reasons were as some of my friends had already told me she had a boyfriend other than her husband and she always visited him to have a very good F**K after work each day! Even when I tried persuading her to give the desperate Okon a chance, she still said no! However, we were pleasantly stunned by a persevering Mr. Okon on one very bright morning at work! The ‘notorious’ s*x-hungry group that always gathered at the reception to have a chat or two about d!cks and pussies, which of course included myself and Mrs. Funke, were already sat and gisting about what the actual depth of a lady’s K!ttyC@t were, when Mr. Okon walked into the reception. Rather curiously, he walked up to the center of the room, and before everybody’s eyes undid his belt and in stunning boldness, brought out his J0yst!ck right before everybody’s eyes! Then he gently asked Mrs. Funke to give him a chance, holding the unbelievably big J0yst!ck in the air!

and before everybody’s eyes undid his belt and in stunning boldness, brought out his J0yst!ck right before everybody’s eyes!

To Be Continued… or read part 2 here:- www.proudlynations.com.ng

1

Chike opened his eyes, and remained in bed until the rest of his body woke up. He looked at his window; the gap between his curtains told him the sun was gonna be out in full force soon.

He must have overslept. Again. And he was supposed to go to the laundry this morning before going to church. He just hoped he would be done in time.

Exhaling, Chike tossed aside the wrapper he’d slept with, and swung his legs off his bed, sitting up. His laptop was still playing, as usual. Breaking Benjamin was now on-Ben Burnley was singing about loss and despair in Dear Agony. He paused it, closed his eyes and said a short prayer, then turned the music on again. He turned the volume up in a bid to let the heavy guitar strings and the hauntingly painful sound of Ben Burnley’s voice clear the rest of the cobwebs in his head. He looked at his table; nothing but a clutter of books and papers, even on the top of his printer.

When am I ever going to get around to arranging this mess? Chike asked himself.

Taking his eyes off it, Chike stood and turned to go to the bathroom, and his eyes fell on his laundry-filled duffel and jute bags. He shook his head at the sheer amount of clothes to be washed. Normally, he would have done his laundry by himself in his bathroom, but this was just too much. Over the course of the past month, he’d had no time, what with the exams and his numerous coursework deadlines. Chike shook his head again in resignation and shuffled into his slippers, then shuffled into his bathroom.

The sound of the opening bathroom boor echoed in the small, cold enclosure. The combined effect of the lack of shower curtain and the sound of the overhead fan that served the dual purpose of circulating clean air and sucking out the bad odours made Chike feel like he was moving house. The bathroom felt…empty. Shrugging, Chike eased himself the n washed his hands, his teeth, and then his face.

Haaa…. Yes, he felt better.

By now Dear Agony had changed from Anthem of the Angels, and then to Without You, all by Breaking Benjamin.

Chike wiped his hands and then his face on his towel, then took it off the rack and folded it. It was also going to the laundry with the others.

Chike opened his wardrobe and selected a change of clothes, not forgetting his long johns. He checked the temperature on his system. 8 degrees. Not as cold as yesterday, but he had to check. He opened his curtains fully and looked outside. The weather, which had been promising to be a bit sunny, was now cloudy. And it looked like it was a bit windy too. That was gonna increase the chill factor. He went back to his wardrobe, scrunched his mouth, thinking, then took the only remaining T-shirt, and selected his warmest jacket. Satisfied, Chike paused the music playing on his laptop, and then cracked his window open, then closed his curtains. Slung on his duffel bag, backpack style, took his wallet, card-holder and keys, then took up the novel he was still reading-The Anthology of Ghost Stories edited by Richard Dalby. He put it in the jute bag with the clothes. Picked up his two phones, selected a playlist on one of them, put on his earplugs, turned the music on, and then turned off the lights. Turned off his heater, and then stepped out. He looked back in just before he locked the door, and his laptop sat on his bedside drawer, a solitary eye in the gloom. Chike locked his door, picked up his bag, and stepped out onto the stairwell.

Behind him, the flat slept on.

2

Outside, the sky was still overcast, and the wind was even worse than he’d thought. Chike had no doubt that if he were any smaller than his six-foot, slightly muscular frame, he would have struggled a bit, what with the bags he was carrying. In his earphones, Jared Leto of Thirty Seconds To Mars wailed that he was Closer To The Edge.

Chike saw no one in sight as he made his way past the other blocks of flats that housed students of Kingston University, Kingston Hill Campus. Turned right, past the damaged refrigerators that stood sentinel in front of the Utility Room, past the Hannafords Student Union Bar on the left–a structure that always reminded him of a drum lying on its side and buried halfway into the ground–and the other hostels on the right. The road led straight down to the road, past the other four and five-storey hostels, one of which housed the Halls Reception. Chike turned left after the SU bar and walked across the car park, past the Education Building on his left and the Postgraduate Building on his right, down the steps, turned right, straight ahead, past the Muslim Prayer Room on his left, the Postgraduate building stretching all the way down on his right, down another set of steps, and then he turned right and faced the cafeteria, which also housed the laundry.

It was a one-story building which looked like it had weathered a storm or two. The ground floor was for Undergraduates –bunch of noisy people in his opinion – and upstairs was for the Postgraduate students and the Lecturers, but although he was a Postgraduate student studying for an MSc in Financial Business Management, he almost never used the cafeteria for serious food, except he had no choice. All he usually bought here was either water or juice.

Their food? No, thank you. He preferred his own to stuff he couldn’t name.

The entire outward-facing side of the building that Chike was facing, was made primarily of clear, see-through glass set in frames. That way, the sun could shine in, and anybody could look outside if they wanted.

But what was there to see but construction work?

A new building was going up in front of the cafeteria, and although it had been barely five months or so since he’d arrived, Chike was surprised at the rate with which the project was progressing, given the size of the project.

Talk about efficiency…

Chike eyed the doors. They were closed. Through the glass, he could see that the TVs in the Undergraduate section were on. Good. He walked forward, grasped the door handle, and pulled the door handle towards him. The double doors opened slowly.

Chike stepped in. He looked in through the half-glass, half-wooden double doors on his left into the cafeteria. He saw about two workers in there. The doors slammed shut behind him, startling him. He glanced behind him for a moment. The wind was still acting up. He just hoped it didn’t rain, at least not now. He faced forward. The corridor led straight down, and at then end were two double-doors, one set on the right and the other on the left. The doors on the right were for a room he knew nothing about, but the doors on the left led to the stairs and then up to the Postgraduate cafeteria. But his business for now was with the room that was on his right, through a little corridor on the right, a few feet in front of him.

Chike stepped in. While the rest of the building seemed asleep, this room was awake. He could hear the machines humming. Five washing machines and four large dryers, all for him. This was the best time to come here, when it was empty.

Chike walked past the dryers on his left and three of the washing machines on his right, making a bee line for the washing machines at the end, beside the dryers, at the end of the room. He dropped the jute bag on the floor in front of the machine by the wall, then unslung his duffel bag and dropped it too. Opened the doors of the machines, unzipped his bag, and started separating his clothes, putting them into the machines. Took his detergent, stood up and opened the soap compartment of the first machine and started to pour some in.

The laughter made him drop the detergent as he jumped, and he spilled some. He turned sharply, and his hand flew to his neck as the whiplash hit him. Massaging his neck furiously, he looked, not really believing his eyes. Was this why his heart was doing the Bolt thing?

It was a little girl in a white dress. A little white girl with blonde hair. She didn’t look more than four or five. She huddled in the corner beside the washing machines, on the bench that ran along the wall. She looked like she was playing hide and seek. Her eyes glinted playfully. Willing his heart to slow down, Chike noticed that she was not wearing any shoes. He looked back at her face, then at the camera on the ceiling in the corner, then at the door, expecting her mother to come in, looking for her. This felt strange to Chike. He’d never heard of any mother, British or otherwise, who would leave her daughter to run around in a place like this. Children were naturally inquisitive, and if she crawled into one of these machines, that would be all she wrote. He turned to her. She was smiling. Somehow the smile made his skin crawl. The room felt cold, like a window was open. He placed the detergent on top of the washing machine, and then turned to ask her a question.

As he opened his mouth to speak, the little girl raised a finger to her lips, and Chike was taken aback. Then she bolted off the bench and out of the laundry room, giggling all the way, her white dress billowing around her and her hair bouncing on her shoulders. Chike stared after her, a bit shaken.

Shaking his head, Chike turned back to the machines. Then one question made him frown.

How in God’s name had he missed seeing her the first time when he entered, no matter how small she was?

WATCHOUT FOR PART 2

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