The AFTERMATH.

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“Efe, are you gay?”  Chioma was asking, naked in my teak wood king-sized bed, I thought she looked radiating.

“No, I’m not gay.”

She quirked a brow at me. “Then why won’t you cum?” she accused. “This is like the fourth time Efe!”

I pulled my gray briefs up to my waist before lowering back down to sit beside her.

“It’s not like I can’t cum Chioma, I can—”

“So why won’t you?” she interrupted, frowning worriedly.

She leaned into me and rubbed my thigh, causing her full breast to press against my skin. “Am I not beautiful enough?”

“Of course you are, you are very beautiful,” I said, meaning every word.

“Then what is the problem? If you are gay, just say it, it’s not like I can’t handle—“

“I’m not gay!” I exclaimed, uprooting myself from the bed. This was frustrating. I hated that word. “You have to put some pressure, a-a d-dildo, something….”

“What?!”

“..It’s the only way.”

Her mouth stayed wide open.

I sat back down beside her, tried to take her hand into mine but she won’t let me.

“You are sick Efe,” she was dragging her words. “I can’t believe I was actually falling for you”

“Chioma, it’s not my fault…” I was willing to explain.

“Oh my God!” She exclaimed, suddenly jolting out of the bed. She started to scramble around for her clothes. She found her panties, wore them hastily, then her blouse followed.

“You don’t have to do this Chioma”

Ignoring my plea, she put on the rest of her clothes as fast as she could then dashed for the door.

Clutching the door handle, she looked back at me, disgust was written all over her face, “Get help!” she said and bang! she was gone.

I had taken a chance telling her that, a chance I now knew I shouldn’t have taken.

I wasn’t gay.

I had a strong dislike for gay men. I simply experienced immense pleasure through my butt.

The last girl I dated understood, even the girl before, maybe because I was paying for their services, I don’t know.

It was very hard keeping an actual relationship, I hadn’t met any girl I wasn’t paying, who understood.

I liked Chioma, a lot, too bad she didn’t understand.

I rose from the bed and pulled on a silk black robe before walking to the living room.

I collected a bottle of Hennessy Vsop Cognac from my mini-bar, poured myself a glass then strolled to my leather sofa and laid supine.

With my glass clasped in one hand and the other hand folded behind my head, I let my mind drift back to Uyo.

 

The year was 1990, I was eight years old.

My father informed me as he drove me to school that morning in his Volkswagen about my Uncle, Omoregbe’s visit. I was excited. He visited our house every time his University got a break.

He would buy me toys, snacks, he even let me play Mortal Kombat and Narc when my parents were out of the house.

He let me do anything I wanted to do and I liked it.

Whenever he was around, the kids in the neighborhood couldn’t bully me, he made sure of that.

He was my favorite Uncle and I was elated he was coming to visit again.

 

⌛️

On Thursday morning, a week into his visit, he invited me into his room, my parents had just gone out to work and I was home due to the vacation, it was just the two of us.

Eagerly, I hopped to his room expecting to play Mortal Kombat but, what was playing on the screen was not Mortal Kombat.

I was confused. “Uncle, what are those two naked Uncles doing?”

The door clicked as he locked it. Calmly, he led me to the bed and sat down beside me. “They are playing with each other, and I want us to play like that too,” he instructed, massaging my shoulders.

I didn’t understand, so I frowned. “Uncle but they are naked.”

He reached for my shirt and started to unbutton it. “We will be naked too,” he said.

I sat, frozen to the spot.

He removed my shirt, then my knicker followed.

He reached for my white pants and my lean hands flew instinctively to my waist.  “Uncle no,” I shook my head at him, terrified of the unknown. “I want to go outside.”

My heart thumped in my ears. I could hear the other kids playing outside in the compound “I want to go and play with Chukwudi,” I requested of him.

His jaw tightened, a dark desire filling his eyes. “You want Chukwudi to beat you again?”

I shook my head.

“Or do you want me to tell your daddy that you have been playing Mortal Kombat?”

My father had warned me to stay off that game due to the amount of violence it portrayed. I knew he would


me if he ever found out I had gone against his orders.

“No no, no Uncle please don’t tell him! He will beat me…” I was sweating now.

“Fine,” he smirked “just do as I say then and I won’t have to tell your daddy”

Afraid, I eagerly nodded, willing to obey in other to avoid my father’s wrath.

“Look at the TV,” he ordered.

My eyes slowly moved from his face to the small black and white screen placed on a wooden table.

“Don’t you like what they are doing?”

I made to look away but he yanked my head back to watch as one amongst the two men took his fellow’s organ into his mouth.

My uncle removed his trousers, stood over me, and made me repeat the same act…

My lips fumbled around his shaft and to my surprise, he groaned pleasurably, nudging my head-on.

My mouth began to hurt.

I tried to pull away but he pressed my head further unto him…

I felt sick to my stomach.

After what must have been minutes, he pulled me up to my feet and made me bend over on the bed.

I began to beg him, crying. I felt afraid, very afraid even though I didn’t understand what he was about to do or what I had just done, I just knew it was bad, it was all bad.

As he grabbed a bottle of oil from his box, applied an ample amount to his organ, and then to my ass hole, I silently prayed for my parents to burst through that door and save me. But, they did not. Not that day, and not in the days that followed.

Excruciating pain spread through my body as he pushed himself into my little hole. I let out a loud shriek and he quickly reached his hand forward and cupped it over my mouth.

He began to drive himself in and out of me, letting out guttural groans and I felt the skin in my anus give way – inch by inch to his heavy shaft.

I remember going numb, at some point, I must have passed out because I woke up in my bed with Uncle Omoregbe seated next to me, stroking my forehead.

I grudgingly shook his handoff.
“Where is my mommy?” I asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“She will be back soon. But Efe,” he said sternly, forcing my chin to look at him. “You cannot tell anyone what happened today, because if you do, I will kill your mummy and I will kill your daddy, then I will kill you” he threatened

And I believed him. I nodded against his grip with tears stinging my eyes and gushing down my cheeks.

He smirked, letting go of my chin. “Good. Now take this…” he said, offering me a cup of water and some tablets.

“What is that?”

“Just drink it, It will numb the pain.”

I took the cup from him and swallowed the drugs. Afterward, he left my room.

When my parents returned later that evening, Uncle Omoregbe without being asked told them that I was limping because I had gotten into a fight with Chukwudi and he beat me up, adding that he had gone to visit a friend at the time. My parent’s scolded me and almost beat me up for it.

I wanted to tell them what had happened, I wanted to tell them so badly, but I didn’t want them to die, I also knew that they  would not believe me – it would be a taboo for me to speak such words.

Uncle Omoregbe was well-loved by everyone he came in contact with; he was brilliant, religious and a medical student, no one would have believed me. He even had a fiancee who visited him at the house sometimes.

And so I endured his invasive acts on my body.

He didn’t stop visiting, instead, he showered me with even more gifts and was very protective of me.

God, I hated him!

After a while, the pain stopped and I began to feel pleasure instead. A pleasure I resented myself for.

 

⌛️

Uncle Omoregbe got married when I clocked twelve years old. He moved to the U.S.A with his new wife, and I never saw him again.

While I was extremely pleased with the new development, my experience left me marred,  withdrawn, and shy too.

I had sex with a girl for the first time when I turned seventeen – the previous years were spent weirdly missing Uncle Omoregbe and not knowing what to do with myself …..

The girl came unto me, otherwise, I most probably would not have had the courage to approach her.

I liked the sex, it was different – very warm and slimy, but I just couldn’t reach orgasm. At the time I thought it was just a one-time thing, but nineteen years later, nothing changed.

A girl I was hooked up with at my Call to Bar after-party, dug a finger into my ass hole while we were making out, she was just being freaky I’m sure but I liked it, so much that it gave me an explosive orgasm. And that was the day I found the way out, I could cum!…..

 

The sound of my phone ringing jerked me out of my thoughts. I groped around for it before realizing I had left it in the bedroom.

I quickly got to my feet and began a brisk walk to my bedroom.

It was the office.

“Hello Monica,” I heaved, exhausted from my little exercise and agonizing memories.

“Good afternoon sir, sorry for disturbing your rest, sir. Just want to inform you that I am done drafting the motion on notice for Rain oil’s matter Sir.”

“That’s good. And the  affidavit and written address?”

“I’ve drafted those too Sir.”

“Okay, good. Email me a copy, I’ll go through it, we will file tomorrow.”

“Will do Sir.”

“Okay fine.” I dropped the Call, sighing lightly.

I walked into my study which was an adjourning part of my bedroom and sat at my desk.

“The successful Learned Silk who can’t cum,” I scoffed to myself.

I shook my head, mainly in self-pity, dragged the mouse, and click – refreshed my mails.

 

THE END.

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5 thoughts on “The AFTERMATH.”

  1. Nice story, both boys and girls need to be protected as much. I didn’t want the story to end 😪

  2. Quite a reflection some hidden reality for some people. And very educative as it tends to open the eyes of unsuspecting parents towards proper parental care, protection and guidance of innocent kids.

  3. Lovely, captivating read and sadly the reality of what a lot of grown men went through as little boys.

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