Dodgy Deals 4

Warning: R21, contains scenes with sex, nudity and violence. Reader’s discretion advised.

Nma looked Jim in the eye and smiled. “I would love to stay. The thing is I have commitments that need my attention. Sharing a drink was me trying to keep calm; to avoid panic in crisis.”

“Of course. Allow me to compensate you for your time.” Jim said as he got up and walked over to his laptop. “Can I have your bank details?”

She gave them to him and moments later an alert for N100,000 appeared on her phone. She could feel her resolve wavering like a reed in the rain. The voices in her head were yapping again.

“Ehn, at least we have something. Let’s go abeg.”

“Mumu. Hundred k na money?”

“Thief. I no blame you. If them shake you upside down, how much go comot?”

“It’s about the principle of the matter. Really. The man needs a lesson in ‘Respecting artists and paying them’.”

“Hehe. If kasala burst here, I no dey o!”

Jim was saying “…it’s not much but I hope it helps. I could give you more though. If you would… let me explore some sensual possibilities with you.”

…explore some sensual possibilities with you.

Nma nearly choked on her drink. He made her sound like an adventure, a territory, an expedition. Anything but a living, feeling, breathing human. in that instant she disliked him immensely. She was going to carry out her plan. She was going to teach him a lesson; one he wouldn’t forget, ever.

She held her breath and exhaled.

“How much?”

“Another hundred for the afternoon. Three if you stay the night.” Jim said.

“That’s generous. You are a very rich man Mr Newton.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. I manage my father’s estate and I get paid to consult on a number of culture and tourism projects for the government here.
Nigeria loves her expatriates, doesn’t She?” He said, erupting into a riotous laugh.

“Yes She does.” Nma replied, dropping her half full glass. “We should get to it then. Time waits for no man they say.”

“Sure” Jim answered, smiling his most disarming smile.

He held her hand and led her to his room. It smelled of mint and jasmine, there were two large paintings of idyllic landscapes on the walls. The floor was covered in an onyx and beige rug. An old fashioned king sized bed with metal head and foot rests sat in the centre like a obese czar.

“You smoke?” Nma asked, gesturing at the pack of cigarettes by the headrest.

“Sometimes. When I am stressed.” Jim answered. “But now, I want to smoke you. Inhale you, exhale you…”

Nma moved closer and kissed him. She had to control the tempo, be in charge, if this was going to work. She pulled his T-shirt off and felt his bottle smooth chest.

“Eww. This oyinbo body be like wet bread.”

“Shut up wetin you know?!”

“Nawa o. Hian! I no dey o!”

The voices chirped in her head,like an opera of canaries. She paid them no mind.

” Would you like to try something?” She asked Jim between breaths.

“Of course, anything.” Jim gushed.

“Where are your ties?”

“In the wardrobe.”

“I’ll be right back. You might want to get out of those shorts.”

She watched him scramble out of his clothes with a smile and fetched some ties from the wardrobe.

“We’ll have to manage these.” She said teasing him with her eyes.

“Wow, sure.”

“Jim, you’ve been such a naughty boy.”

“I am sorry, ma, please …punish me.”

“I will.”

She fastened his arms to the bed post using the knots she had learnt from her ex boyfriend Mike. Mike was a sailor. He knew just how to tie a knot. She had learnt in jest, now she was glad she had.

She tied his legs as well kissing, gliding and teasing as she made her way down. She had discarded her clothes and all she had on was black lace lingerie. She tied his feet to the bed posts and gave him a lewd wink.

“There we go.” She said looking up from her task.

“Come and sit on me. Please. I am bursting.”

“In a minute.”

She stood up and removed her bra. Her breast sprung free: full,brown, big and beautiful. She heard him suck in his breath and knew she was getting the response she wanted.

She walked to her bag, picked up her camera and put the video on.

“Wait. What are you doing? Put that away! What is this? A con?”

“Shhh, Jim, relax. This is going to be fun.”

She toyed with the angle for the camera while Jim screamed and swore.
When she got the right spot, she propped it up and returned to her prey.

He was well hung, with a splash of brown hair at the base. His erection had deflated a bit with the turn in events. She decided to do something about it.

Taking him in her mouth, she closed her eyes and imagined herself licking a giant lollipop.

“Nma, no. No. No! Stop! Don’t stop. Please. Faster. Harder. ArrRrrrgh ‘;#*!;.!”

She ignored him. A change of tempo in his thrusts warned her that he was almost gone, so she stopped.

“Why? Why are you stopping? Babe please. Don’t do this. I’ll give you 300. 400. Stop this. Un-tie me. Please!”

Without a word she rose and fetched a belt. He was a pitiable sight. Red around his wrists and ankles where he strained against the knots, faint beige above that, up to his knees and elbows, then cream thighs, belly and chest. That an a turgid penis glistening and wet.

She put off the camera and picked up a belt. The crack of the belt as it hit his thighs, belly, and chest made her giddy with glee.

He grit his teeth and bore it without a sound. His erection deflated and tears were streaming down his eyes. Nma smiled. Yes, this was definitely looking up.

She got lipstick, blush and eye shadow from her bag. Walking over to him she dusted on the blush.

“Nma, please. I am sorry. You don’t have to do this. Forgive me. I will pay for your work. I’ll buy the entire collection. I am so so sorry–”

“Shut up. You are interrupting my work.” She sat back and admired his make-up. “You make such a pretty girl Jim.”

She sashayed over to the drawers and searched them. Soon, she found a pack of Rough Riders. She picked one and tore it open. She was dripping wet already. She intended to enjoy this.

Walking over to him, she took him in her mouth again. Soon he was as hard as a rock. She slid the condom on him with a fluid flick of her wrists.

He was sobbing now. Soft silly sounds that made her want to bitch-slap him. The camera was on, though,so she had to make things look as mutually pleasurable as possible.

She climbed on him and his sobs became moans. Her hands were caressing her breasts. Her hips were rocking to a timeless rhythm. Soon she was spent and she rolled off him.

“What? Why did you stop?” Jim yelled.

She grabbed her clothes and tiptoed to the bathroom without saying a thing. Minutes later, she emerged, fresh and innocent-looking.

“That will be 500k.” She said.

“500 what? Are you crazy? For what? I didn’t even come! You should be paying me!” Jim said, his face a mask of incredulity and pain.

“Naughty Jim.” She whispered, as she walked over to him and traced patterns on his chest. “How does it feel? How does ‘this’ feel? To be trapped, in your own home, bound with your clothes, enslaved by your desire, humiliated by your lust ?

How does it feel to be used? Made a slave for another’s satisfaction, lusts and rage?

Jim, how does it feel to raped?

To be continued.

Dodgy Deals 3

Jim tried smiling but failed. He felt stretched to his limits. He really liked this feisty female artist’s work. He found himself responding to her as a woman too. It wasn’t hard peeling away her snug blue jeans and lavender blouse, in his mind; it wasn’t hard seeing himself with her, in her.

It had been three months since he’d had sex. Two since he had bothered with some self service. He felt desire pool in his loins and a kick in his pants.

He had to be careful though. This broad looked ready to slap someone. He had seen women act that way only to become a catalogue of smiles when the right buttons were touched. The problem was, he had no idea what Nma’s buttons were. Considering her last phone call, her ‘pay artists’ tirade, and her hasty exit, however, he imagined offering her little money wouldn’t be too far off target.

She had a call and he watched her answer it.

“Hello?” She said, cocking her head with a frown, giving him a great view of her smooth sepia skin, the arch of her neck,her luscious lips, the pinpoint birthmark on her cheek .

“Please tell them to give me more time. I will have the money next week.” She said, her lips twisted into a knot, her eyes misting over.

“Okay, then. Thanks.” She didn’t looked at him when she spoke. “Power cuts at my flats. I need to get to home now. Thank you Mr Newton. All the best with your exhibition.”

“Hey, you are upset now and you need to cool off a little. How about some juice? Hmm? You don’t have to worry about getting home, I’ll drop you off myself.” He said in a rush. He was aching with desire, a desire to taste her, have her.

She exhaled and closed her eyes, “Okay.”

Her shoulders were stooped and her eyes had a look that made him want to hold her. He wanted more than to hold her. He wanted to get to her core. To discover what made her laugh, moan and coo. He wanted to do that right there,but he had to be careful. Very careful.

He led her past the parlour to his lair. There the seats were coffee brown and the rug a robust olive green. He got pineapple juice from the fridge and poured glasses for both of them.

“To the beautiful Nma.” He said, giving her a glass and lifting his.

“To dignity in labour.” Nma replied, eyeing him with an upturned eyebrow above the glass.

“Nma, I like you.” Jim said, the words tumbled out of his mouth before he had a chance to push them back in.

“Really?” Nma replied, “How beautiful.”

“I’m serious. I haven’t met any girl as funny, fine, gifted, exciting and witty as you are.” Jim said, smiling. “I would like to us to get closer. Get to know each other better. Explore possibilities. Share. Love.” The desire in his eyes was as a naked flame.

Nma looked away. Blood rushed to her face in a wave and she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It wasn’t enough that the electricity company was disconnecting her. It wasn’t enough that her trip here was a waste of time. It wasn’t enough that she hadn’t figured how to get Dibaal money for Mama’s medication. Now this. This man wanted to get into her pants. How dare he? Was he crazy? He wouldn’t buy her art now he was hitting on her? The nerve of it. The ugly reality, that a woman’s worth was primarily her body. That a man could dismiss a woman’s talent but chase her body. It filled her with anger. She wanted to show this man that not every woman was that cheap. She wanted to punish him for wasting her time and raising her hopes only to dash them like a squashed roach. In the dim room, with the cold glass of pineapple juice in hand, a sinister plan began to form …

Dodgy Deals II

Read Dodgy Deals I here

Anger whistled in her belly as she fought to stay calm. The weeks of sleepless nights and skipped meals flashed before her eyes like a pantomime. A fresh fount of tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back as fast as she could. The warm fluid trickled down her nose and she tilted her head so it dripped down her throat.

“Can I ask you something?”


“Are you paying for the hall?”


“The food?”


“The ushers?”


“The Compere(s)?”


“But what? Jim. But what?” Nma asked, staring at him, eyebrows raised, arms akimbo.

“Nma, I am sorry.” Jim said. “I really like your work. It is the best I have seen in ages. The problem is we don’t have a budget for up-coming artists. We are offering you exposure and a chance to be discovered. A lot of collectors will be at the exhibition. They might see your work and buy it. You can’t lose getting your work in front of an audience. You have to be known to earn from art. That’s the way it is. That is the way it has always been.”

“Stop.” Nma replied. “Just stop.”
Her voice sliced the air like a scythe.

“Don’t give me that crap. Don’t tell me about exposure. Exposure doesn’t buy paint or canvass or breakfast. You amaze me. You are hosting an exhibition, people are paying to attend.”

She paused for breath and began to tick of the items on her fingers.

” You budgeted for the hall, the ushers, the food,the drinks. You even budgeted for the compere’s. But not the artists. You need to rethink your priorities, Jim. You need to ask yourself why you are doing this. Is it for art? Or are you just another rapist? Taking people’s blood and sweat from them for free, under the guise of ‘Promoting Art’. No wonder you don’t have many takers. No artist worth their salt would allow this–this travesty. Now, if you ‘ll get out of my way. I have things to do and people to see.”

Jim reddened under his collar. This wasn’t what he had envisioned when Tola had told him about a young artist that breathed life unto canvas. He made another effort. “Nma, please, it’s not the way you make it sound.–”

“Then what is it? You made provision for everything and everyone except the artists. You wouldn’t dare ask a compere to speak for free, or rent a hall with exposure. You are a fraud posing as an art lover. You just take advantage of struggling artists to build your fancy art-loving brand. What’s wrong with renting the art work if you can’t afford to buy? What’s wrong with rewarding the people that work night and day, rain or sun, feast or famine, to get art made?” Nma laughed, a cold mirthless sound. “Fine saviour of african art you are. Truly ‘showcasing Africa’s beauty’.”

“Nma, please.” Jim said. “I never thought of it that way–this way. We don’t have enough funds to buy, I never thought about renting. Besides what we would offer would be too shameful–”

“Shameful? Jim, what can be more shameful than offering nothing? Asking me to pay before you display my paintings?”

“Oh no! We could never do that. Shocks! This is not the way this meeting was meant to go. Forgive Nma. Let’s start afresh over a glass of juice. We are on the same team. We love art. We can be friends. There has to be a way around this.”

He reached for her hand and felt an unexpected jolt of desire run up his loins.

To be continued …

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