Bachelors Anonymous – 2

Bachelors Anonymous by Jerry Chiemeke - feature image for elsieisy blog

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February 3rd, 2015.

There was no other explanation. For him, the Creator must have had a good meal before shaping her features. Jerry stared in admiration as she strutted towards him, letting go of fabric after fabric with every other step, until she stood before him completely unclad. He could not think of standing up from his chair. If he did, he would end up looking like he was keeping a flashlight in the middle of his trousers.

Hour-glass figure. Smooth brown skin, just as he liked. Fleshy, but not to excess. Neatly shaved down below. He imagined her hips surrounding his, and his flashlight assumed a more straightened position. She made as if to sit on him, but as he reached for her waist, she tilted backwards and turned away.

“All of this will be yours, if he hits the target”, she spoke, beckoning to her right.

Jerry looked to that direction. It was Cupid in full regalia, grinning mischievously. Jerry fixed his gaze on the unclad female as Cupid strung his bow, pulled out his arrows from his quiver and began to shoot at Jerry. All eight arrows were fired from a range of five metres, yet Cupid managed to miss all the shots. Jerry cut a long look on his face.

“I am afraid, you won’t be having ANY. Cupid here missed all his shots”, the lady began. “But you see, he couldn’t get you because you focused your gaze on me, not on him. That’s more like what you usually do. You meet a girl, and your primary focus is her body. How then do you expect to build a good relationship?

Look beyond a lady’s body, Jerry, think of what you can do for her, stop being shallow and love will find you…..”

Voices of arguing ladies jolted Jerry back to reality. He could not decipher all that was being said, but he could tell that the conversation was far from a friendly one. He noticed that his eyes were covered, and his hands tied behind him around what was probably a chair. He had been abducted! For want of a better idea, he screamed.

******************

“Erm, girls, what do we do with him?”

“That’s the question you should have asked when you decided to let him live.”

“Let him live?! I missed!”

“You’re damn right you did. With all the weapons at your disposal, you couldn’t pull off a simple cleaning out exercise. I had to take care of your mess for you.”

“Point is, I was picked and you weren’t. You couldn’t beat me at shooting practice, butter fingers.”

“Really now? Well, here’s something for you, and unlike some people, I don’t miss…..”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? YOU KILLED HER!”

I’m sorry Ma’am. She was going to ruin things for us anyway.”

The two ladies still on their feet picked up their colleague who had just been stabbed in the neck and hurled her into a huge trash can. They were about to resume their conversation when they heard screams of “where am I?” from behind the door.

“Apparently, our guest is awake”, said one to the other.

***************

“Good evening, Jerry. It’s nice to finally have you awake.”

“What am I doing here?”

“No the question should be, ‘what are we doing here?’ Julie Adeleke, Mimi Adebayo, send them in!”

A wide door opened and two ladies walked in, each dragging two men with them. They looked badly bruised, but Jerry was able to recognise them. They were his colleagues. Julie was dragging Soogun Brown and Peter Ademu-Etteh, while Mimi was in charge of Wole Fash and Promise Nwokoro. Jerry looked at the lady speaking to him. She was dark, chubby and she had that alluring smile, but he was in no mood to be drawn in.

“We have been itching to meet you. Sorry for the way we brought you in. You can call me Emem Akpan-Nya.”

“Why am i in a jalabia?” Jerry inquired.

“Being our special guest, we felt you needed a change of clothes. Not to worry, we didn’t touch anything we were not meant to.”

“Not like he’s got much down there anyway”, a lady cut in from behind Emem.

“Don’t mind her, Jerry. That’s Farida Adamu by the way. I figured that since she took you out, it would be nice if she dressed you up.”

“Farida sounds like an abused teenager”, Jerry quipped.

Farida didn’t reply. She smiled wryly, took a few steps forward and brushed the back of her palm against Jerry’s right cheek with considerable force.

“That’s her way of saying ‘watch your mouth’, and depending on what you say, you’ll be getting a lot of that.”

“So, ‘Fraulein’ Emem, who shot my brothers?”

“Oh, Ife you mean. Well, she is, erm, unavoidably absent. She is away and won’t be back anytime soon”, Emem replied, casting glances at Farida with a corner of her eye. “So, any questions so far?”

“Yes, ma’am….erm, how do I get a bottle of Orijin around here?”

“You think this place is a pub, right?” Farida replied, applying her hands to Jerry’s cheek once more.

“You are a really funny guy, you know”, Emem continued. “Well, it appears you’re in the mood, so let’s play a game. Aidee?!”

A not-so-dark slender lady, dressed in a biker’s outfit, with lips that Jerry loved to think of as ‘kissable’ snapped her fingers, and a throng of females, looking like they twerked for a living, sauntered into the room, surrounding the captured men.

“So here it’s how it will go: These lovely ladies are going to treat you to a lap dance, one like you have never seen before….but there’s a tiny little issue. Your wrists will be connected to a machine. This machine works like a lie detector, and if you get to have even the slightest bit of arousal, you will be welcoming volts of electricity into your body. Have fun.”

Aidee snapped her fingers again, and in a matter of seconds all the men had their wrists surrounded by wires from underground. The ladies set about their exercise, and danced with such luscious moves that it was impossible not to think of them. Series of electrocutions were inevitable, and in less than ten minutes, they were halfway out of consciousness…

With the exception of Jerry. He had somehow conceived a way to resist arousal. The lady designated to him pulled all the moves she could think of, but Jerry had set his mind on other things; elections, rent, judicial workers’ strike, Nollywood, anything else but the lady that was pulling a Nicki Minaj on him. Thirty minutes passed, and after it proved impossible to send any shock waves through Jerry, Aidee walked up to him and stroked his face, winking as she did so. Jerry closed his eyes, and at that moment, he felt like he had hugged an active transformer.

“This….was…..wasn’t….part of the… the rules of your si….silly game”, Jerry protested, struggling to speak as he reeled from the effect of Aidee’s touch.

“Wanna hear a short joke, eh, Jerry?” Emem replied, with a smug expression on her face. “The joke goes like this: A girl said, ‘Trust me’ “.

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