Tuesday, 5 March 2019

Love Thy Neighbour (pt 2)

Click Here for Part 1

Oma opened the door and was surprised to see him again. She had changed from the sleeveless top and ankle length skirt she wore earlier to her white nurse’s gown, apparently ready for the day’s work.

“Sister, I came to say thank you again,” Ben lied. “I am really grateful.”

“Okay,” she nodded, and seemed about to close the door, then he quickly added, “There is something important I also want to tell you…”

“Right now? I am already running late. In fact, I had already left. I just came back to take something.”

“I won’t be long, just lend me a few seconds of your time,” he persuaded. She gave in, opening the door to let him in again.

As she turned back and closed the door, he brought out the knife from his back pocket and pressed it to her stomach. She stiffened in shock, pivoting her head to stare at him in astounded confusion. Ben looked away, mumbling, “Just relax, I don’t want to hurt you. Just do as I say.”

She continued to stare at him in shell-shock, finding it difficult to understand why a man she had helped just moments ago was now holding a knife to her stomach. All of a sudden, a wild look came into her eyes and Ben knew she was about to scream. He increased the pressure on the knife so that it dug into her work cloth and scraped her skin slightly; a warning. “Don’t scream or make any wrong move, and everything will be fine. Just give me whatever I ask for, that’s all.”

The scream building in Oma’s throat died off in a whimper when she felt the prick of the knife. He moved her slowly towards her closet and ordered her, “Oya, bring out all your money.”

Hurt and disappointment twisted her delicate features as she did what he ordered. At that moment he almost regretted his actions, but quickly smothered the emotion and told himself it was a necessary evil.  She brought out a small roll of notes from underneath a pile of neatly folded trousers and handed it to him.

“How much is there?”


Ben tucked the money into his pocket. He glanced at the handbag sitting on her chair; it was her work bag obviously and something told him she would have put some money in there, at least for t-fare. He decided to let that one go, though, it would be too extreme to leave her completely cashless.

But he was not done.

He pivoted her to the cooking area and ordered her to stash more food items into a bag, still holding the knife to her stomach. This time he was not interested in beans, garri and the like, he pointed at more desirable food items; powdered milk, beverage, yam, spaghetti, crate of eggs, butter, custard, etc. He only stopped when the bagco sack was full.

It was then time for the next part of his plan.

He brought the knife up to her throat. “Oya, take off your cloth.”

Ehn?” she gasped in a hoarse little voice. Then almost screamed, “No, no, no. I can’t do that. No, way… Don’t touch me!”

“Don’t let me do what I don’t want to do. Just do as I say, and I won’t hurt you,” he cautioned.

But Oma continued to protest, closing her eyes and shaking her head emphatically. So, he pressed the knife closer to her neck and flicked it slightly, making a small but painful cut on the side of her neck. She screamed and he immediately clamped his other hand over her mouth. “Remove your cloth!” he repeated.

Standing as she did, leaning slightly against him because of the pressure exerted by the hand on her mouth, she began to unbutton her gown, quivering and whimpering. Ben took his hand off her mouth when she was done, leaving the one that had the knife in place, enabling her stand upright so she could pull off the gown completely. She was now clad only in her set of white bra and panties, eyes closed and shuddering in horror at what was happening to her.

“Continue, take off your pant and bra,” he directed.

Another gasp was given off by her, but the cold metal of the knife still on her neck dissuaded any resistance. In a few more seconds, those were off too and she stood there naked, backed up against Ben. He couldn’t really see much of her in that position, just the smooth expanse of her skin and small perky boobs that jutted out proudly from the plains of her chest. With the little he could see, he could tell she had a very sexy body, but oddly enough, he was not aroused. He was filled with the urgent need to close off the operation quickly, and the fear of an unexpected visitor happening on them.

Moving swiftly, he pushed her onto the bed, took out his phone and began to snap pictures of her as she laid there naked and frightened.

“Keep your face straight,” he ordered, shaking the knife threateningly at her. “Stop squeezing it, stop doing like someone that is crying.” And he snapped some more.

When he was done, he informed her, “These pictures are my assurance that you won’t tell anybody what happened, police o, friend o, anybody! If you talk, I swear, I will release your nude pictures all over the internet. I will tell people that we have been sleeping together, especially that your boyfriend I used to see coming here. So don’t dare me. Hope I have made myself clear?”

Mission completed, he let himself out of her room with the bag of food in his hand, 2,500 Naira in his pocket and her nude pictures in his phone. He felt a pang of guilt at the very bad thing he had just done but shook it off, telling himself, “I had to do it to survive na, man must survive...”

The Story Continues>>> Click Here for the Final Part

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