EPISODE ONE (1)
Violette was raised under very stern moral circumstances. Her father, who was a respected catechist, made an exception of his home by laying very strict rules for conduct. Under his watch, it was prohibited for any of his four daughters to stroll the neighborhood after dinner had been served.
If you saw Violette or Phynn or Brisla or Jane at night, either they were running an errand approved by their mother; or they had to attend an evening church gathering instructed by their father. Beyond these two arrangements, their presence at night remained a scarce probability.
What made Violette and her three sisters the concern of gossips was not the stiff control their father exercised. The four girls wore attractive looks that arrested the attention of nearly everyone who walked passed them.
For Violette in particular, it was her ebony toned skin and gallant stature that usually won her the endless stares. At age 19, she already wore a voluptuous form which was difficult to ignore. Her alluring presence and inviting physique compelled many to strike conversations with her; many of which she dismissed or scarcely responded to.
Much of her resistance and snobbish courtesies in shooing away prospective friends, was also inspired by her many exclusive sessions with her mother. In many of such typical mother-and-daughter interactions, her mother continually admonished her to refrain from sexual intercourse until after marriage.
Violette was socialised to accept that, indiscriminate sex was going to blight her fortunes in life; and this learning formed a significant part of her daily routines. As far as Violette was concerned, nothing other than explicit sexual intercourse had the weight to resist her progress in life.
But Phynn, who was the eldest of the four girls thought otherwise about life! In her opinion, success could not be occasioned by merely keeping a chaste disposition. In her analysis, there were many elevated characters who did not wield clean moral slates, and hence she flouted the nuggets of her mother with ease and pleasure.
On the blind side of this morally absorbed family, Phynn kept a secretly lewd rapport with one of the clerics who often visited their home. On most of his visits, he met only Phynn at home before the arrival of the rest. Subsequently, they had the much desired clearance to manifest their orgies and express their lascivious passions.
Ryann, the cleric-in-training had a preference which usually commenced their exchanges. Anytime the two met in isolation, he would invite Phynn to dip her mouth down his agitated third leg! The pleasure in that excited him; and soon Phynn herself mastered numerous ways of rounding her lips around the young preacher’s shaft.
For a vessel in ministerial training, it was expected of Ryann to refrain from all such endeavours as the code for trainees proscribed. However, he himself appeared to have also adopted a ploy that threw Phynn into endless excitement.
Anytime Phynn’s mouth was fastened on him, he would also grab the young architect’s nipples and stroke it at different currents of energy. This mutually elevated their passions and heightened their sensitivities under the roof of the revered catechist. Bang!! They heard a forceful knock at the door. This unsettled them and got them jittery on this very occasion.
EPISODE TWO (2)
The velocity of the knock on the door triggered rushing currents of fear down the spines of the two illicitly involved lovers. Ryann looked heavily perturbed, and Phynn seemed stupefied as well. To them, their hour of doom and moment of reckoning had finally come!
They fairly understood the consequences of being red handedly nabbed. For Ryann, that was going to be a huge scar on his reputation which may end his journey to becoming an ordained reverend minister. For Phynn, she knew she was going to loose her place of influence as an exemplary role figure to Violette and her two other sisters. Mesmerised by the incessant knocks, the duo grew more and more disturbed and scandalised.
Finally, Phynn gathered some rare courage and asked who it was. Alas! They were relieved by the response, yet furiously disappointed at the same time. It was Franklin, the gatekeeper!
Phynn rushed to the door to engage the intruder who had caused them that moment of brief emotional disturbance. Wearing an angered demeanor, she queried Franklin for the impoliteness of his manners! Displaying the usual meekness of most domestic handmaids, Franklin apologised for his conduct and implored Phynn to tell him the time. Just the time!
Apparently, his wristwatch had stopped ticking, and yet he needed to confirm the time to log out for James to replace him at post. The obvious nothingness of his silly yet forceful enquiry fueled Phynn’s anger even the more. ‘Is that the reason why you banged the door like a charged bull?’, she roared in anger! Joining the scene, Ryann, who at that point had managed to tuck in his shirt tried to calm Phynn; urging her to be polite. He seemed to have suddenly found his pastoral touch yet again.
Phynn had typically never embraced the idea of keeping domestic helps. To her, their presence was nothing but a repugnant nuisance which she didn’t have the steam to accommodate. However, her consistent protests had never appealed to Dr. Mills, her father; who felt that the maids needed some support to afford a living.
Ryann then went ahead to tell Franklin the time and bided him goodbye with a polite gospel blessing: ‘the Lord be with you’. Still furious, Phynn smashed the door and locked it even tighter! ‘I really don’t like …’ …. Just before she could finish venting another line of fury, Ryann silenced her boiling temper with an aggressive attack of kissing right behind the locked door!
It came in the manner everyone would easily describe as wild and ruthlessly imposing. But Phynn didn’t protest Ryann’s approach. Rather, she grabbed his shirt with the same aggression and the two were thrown into a revived session of passionate endeavour once again.
Ordinarily, one would have thought that given the way they escaped apprehension by the skin of the teeth, they would have called off the day’s session altogether. But apparently, Franklin’s interruption seemed to have rather given them a refreshing break to run more riots.
It must be noted that, Ryann was of the stock that believed in the doctrine of eternal security. The doctrine of eternal security is a theological position which asserts that once an individual surrenders to the Lordship of Jesus Christ, his subsequent acts; no matter how vile and sinful cannot revoke his or her salvation.
It was on the strength of this ideological position that Ryann could afford to keep a sexual rapport while in ministerial training. For him, his sins had already been catered for; and hence the fear of retribution did not scare him.
On the other hand, Phynn also believed that premarital sex did not necessarily foil one’s fortunes. As a deeply researched architect, she had read sufficiently; and to her, it didn’t seem logical for people’s progress to be truncated on the count of merely having sex.Engrossed even further, the two lovers of music were soon naked amidst profuse sweating. Phynn’s hair was beyond messy, and Ryann’s tie and watch laid helplessly on the floor.
Hanging in the room where this was taking place was a hugely imposing picture of the man thought to be Jesus Christ. For some, that image alone would have been a good enough deterrence. But for Phynn whose extensive readings had led her to discover that that image was just the face of actor Robert Powell, she didn’t give a hoot! Pleasure in the moment was all she cared about. While they continued, Ryann’s phone rang.
EPISODE 3
The repetitive sounding of the phone could not immediately arrest Ryann’s attention. As close as the phone was, Ryann did not simply bother ! It appeared he wanted to finally arrive on the plains of ecstasy before attending to other secondary issues.
Finally, he noticed his turgidity in Phynn had declined; and that signalled the end of an enthralling episode of intimacy for both Phynn and Ryann. Phynn wore a broad smile as if to say: ‘thank you Ryann’. Discerning the import of that unusual smile, Ryann kissed her forehead; the final act of the day.
Quickly, Phynn left to shower; leaving the bare chested incoming cleric to take a breather from his recently vigorous activity. Seated alone in the hall, he gazed at some of the wedding photos of Dr. Mills and the other iconic family pictures which were conspicuously displayed in the hall.
While enjoying the ventilation of the speedily rotating fan, his phone suddenly rang again! It was at that point that he remembered he had missed some calls earlier. The number was unknown to him, and that built some reluctance. It took a third count for Ryann to finally answer the phone; lethargically for that matter.
Right upon picking the call, his ears were met with the intense sobbing of a female. At first, he could not tell whom it was. But when he heard ‘R-Y’, he could tell it was Phoebe, his younger sister.
The rapport between Phoebe and Yayra was noticeably engaging. While in Spain for his advanced learning in Artificial Intelligence, Ryann maintained an emphatic gap between himself and the rest of his family. He scarcely wrote home; and even when lengthy missives piled in his mail from home, he quickly thrashed them.
According to him, he needed ample concentration to run through his studies. Despite this resolve however, Ryann could simply not resist messages or calls from Phoebe. It appeared Phoebe was the only lass who wielded the charm that got him to interact. It was on the strength of their rapport that Phoebe coined the name ‘R-Y’ for him, a name he delightfully responded to.
‘Phoebe, what is wrong with you, are you okay?’ … Just then the call dropped. Sensing a prevailing upset, Ryann jumped out of the sofa and begun tracing his steps out of the house. He reached for his watch which he had earlier abandoned on the floor; and in a brief turn, he was all set and dressed, ready to step out finally. Just then, a text message followed. It was from Phoebe, announcing the demise of Ryann’s mother! Holy Moley! Ryann’s mother had finally passed on; a news Ryann dreaded !
The old lady had been battling cancer for six years with no significant improvements. At junctions when she felt some momentary relief, those reliefs were suddenly interrupted by some other health plundering diagnosis. But finally her years had ended; and the struggles of her health were finally over. Death had concluded its appointment with Mrs. Gray, the good old magistrate!
Ignoring the questioning from Phynn who had returned from the shower, Ryann reached for the door and off he left; weeping uncontrollably. Bewildered by the scene, Phynn stood in amazement with no immediate answers to satisfy her aroused curiosity. Then there was a knock on the door. Dr. Mills was home finally, returning from a meeting with the leadership of the Church. Right upon entry, he met Phynn in the hall, who at the time had gulped down a bottle of juice and had fallen fast asleep.
But it wasn’t only the bareness and laxity with which she laid that caught Dr. Mills’ attention. Dr. Mills was also drawn to the brooch that laid at the corner of the coffee table. The brooch bore the name of Ryann Morgan Gray! Ryann Morgan Gray? Pacing the floor, Dr. Mills begun to wonder how Ryann’s brooch got into his hall. Surely, Phynn had some questions to clarify. Dr. Mills was the registrar at the community’s seminary where young clerics were taught.
EPISODE FOUR (4)
Phynn laid tired and uncovered. She wore nothing except for a big white towel which had a loose covering on her body; leaving her curves and cleavage in the full glare of Dr. Mills. The fan also blew heavily, lifting the portion of the towel that covered Phynn’s baby hairless towers.
Staring at the sight, Dr. Mills was suddenly thrown into two conflicting contemplations. In one breath, he felt a rebuking urge to wake and chide her daughter out of her careless behaviour. In another spine of thought, he fantasised the pleasure of pouncing upon Phynn and thrusting the space between her openly inviting legs.
But what would even generate the latter thought in the first place? A tightly concealed secret in the Mills’ family was a brief affair that ensued between Dr. Mills and Phynn when Phynn turned nineteen.
During that time, Roselyn Mills, the mother of Phynn was in fervent pursuit of more academic laurels. After being awarded valedictory honour in her masters programme, she aimed at chalking further accolades by taking another masters in a related field.
The demands of this ambition kept her away from home; leaving Dr. Mills to the immature care and attention of Phynn, who had just entered high school. The two were usually the only folks at home; and sometimes, they never had the slimmest idea of Mrs. Mills whereabouts.
By that time, Dr. Mills had not been enrolled into ministerial duties yet. Despite his obvious desire for same, he was still in civil service enjoying the privileges that came with his appointment as the Senior Policy Consultant to the government.
Then on one day when he returned from Greece on an official assignment, he met Phynn at home sobbing uncontrollably! Phynn’s tears were triggered by the long absence of her Dad and the protracted unavailability of her mum who hardly engaged her first daughter!
Moved by the scene, Dr. Mills rushed to hug her lonely daughter and caressed the young girl’s bruises. Trapped in the aura of emotions, Dr. Mills landed a warm kiss of care on Phynn’s forehead, and the next thing they knew, father and daughter were heavily biting each others lips without restraint. Dr. Mills’ right hand then reached out for Phynn’s breast; an act which provoked a passionate moan from Phynn. Before long, Dr. Mills was penetrating the tightly sealed Phynn; making him the first visitor of her wet gates.
It seemed that Dr. Mills had been sex starved beyond reasonable limits, and that apparently shut his reasoning in the circumstances. But his own daughter also didn’t resist either. She mutually embraced the fiercely standing shaft of his father and enjoyed the effects as well. A later conversation between the two, who grew closer after that act revealed that, Phynn in her days of loneliness had been exposed to a lot of explicit sexual materials; creating a strong craving in her.
What happened was a case of two sensually enchanted folks who found solace in each other; regardless of how inappropriate it was. If Mrs. Mills was an available mother, perhaps she would have tamed and monitored Phynn’s excesses and also killed the overflowing sensitivities which had accumulated in his husband’s loins!
While thinking of what to do, Phynn’s eyes opened and saw her Dad standing gallantly in front of her. She postured a cunning smile and said: ‘ Hey Paps, you’re here …’
EPISODE 5
… ‘Yes Phynn, I’ve been around for the last couple of minutes; how’re you?’; asking in a very soft tone.
In the haste of covering her nakedness, the towel fell off the couch; leaving her tender breast and her warmly coloured beads to the plain watching of her father.
Now she had no option than to bend and pick the towel! Thankfully, Dr. Mills did her the much needed favour and grabbed the towel for her.
Picking the towel, he took another notice of Ryann’s brooch which laid by the corner of the coffee table. Phynn finally managed to settle, and sensing that her Dad had seen Ryann’s brooch, she readied herself for the heavy chastising that was next to follow.
‘Come dear’ ; Dr. Mills uttered mildly, inviting Phynn to draw closer to him. He knew Phynn was anticipating a stern lecture, but instead, he cuddled the charming damsel whom at this point was already sulking: with her nose running deeply into her mouth.
Dr. Mills did not wield the moral clearance to use himself as a reference in advising Phynn to refrain from sexual activity. This was because, not only had he broken her honeypot, but also, he had agreed with Phynn to terminate the pregnancy that resulted from their first experience.
Dr. Mills’ local assembly was strongly opposed to sex outside the confines of marriage. Consequently, the church adopted a policy that excommunicated persons who were found to have conducted themselves in such a manner. Anticipating this ordeal, the two agreed to flush out the seed when they noticed it had formed.
Phynn could not have borne the stigma; neither could Dr. Mills have absorbed the shame, hence their decision to commit the heinous act of aborting young Mills! They did this with the knowledge of none; except their souls and the spirits in them.
Dr. Mills’ words were tenderly soothing and affably gracious. He spoke refreshingly to Phynn who was still shedding tears. After a long period of talk, Dr. Mills stepped out to his room where he fell asleep; having munched on some cookies a hot cup of chocolate.
Phynn was now left alone in the hall, comforted by her Dad’s empathy. That experience of warmth, pardon and closure should have closed the day and energised Phynn to shun her promiscuity. But apparently, the brilliant London trained architect nurtured another orchestration up her sleeve.
Her passions didn’t seem to have subsided; neither had her aroused state flattened. After washing down, taking a long sleep and receiving the coziness from her Dad earlier, she seemed to have been rather invigorated for more strokes!
Driven by her untamed passions, she clandestinely crept into her father’s room, where he laid bare chested in his bed pants. The sight of his relaxed shaft got Phynn wild! She imagined how grabbing it again would feel like, after their first encounter some ten years ago. She desired to know whether the old man had lost steam or whether he still wielded that horse packed energy.
Meanwhile Ryann, who had earlier stormed out of the house to attend to the news of his departed mother had also been involved in a ghastly accident and was left in a critical condition. A text message to this effect had already reached Dr. Mills’ phone as Registrar of the Seminary. However, he laid fast asleep, with his lustful driven daughter wanting to fix her firm teeth on the pound of flesh between his legs.
Phynn took the phone and read the message. She cupped her mouth with her hands; obviously scandalised by the news. The shock of this hostile update however did not water down on her boiling horniness. Rocking her father was all she wanted! She tipped closer to Dr. Mills and placed her hands right into her father’s shorts, rubbing what her hands had grabbed.
At this point, either Dr. Mills was going to stand his grounds or be overtaken by the rush of lust which overshadowed his morals some years ago. A critical test of his integrity had presented itself yet again; this time in a more exclusive manner.
EPISODE 6
Mark had been a very good friend of the Mills’ since they moved to their current residence. As a neighbour, he frequently visited the Mills’ and crept into their affairs.
Out of his attachment to the family, he volunteered to assist with the school assignments which Phynn usually brought home. In addition, he became a dependable errand boy for Dr. Mills who often trusted him to handle his bank transactions and dealings at the port.
Mrs. Mills wasn’t left out of the assistance Mark offered to the family. When her consignments arrived at the port, she entrusted their clearance and distribution into the hands of Mark, who soon became an agile negotiator and an efficient broker of impressive deals.
Putting all his productive efforts together, Mark inevitably grew to become an indispensable asset to the Mills’. On one hand, he was Phynn’s trusted home tutor. Then at the same time, a dependable errand boy for Dr. Mills. And furthermore, a preferred merchandise apprentice for Mrs. Mills and her booming business.
The only blemish on his otherwise perfect utility was the affair he had with Cynthia; Mrs. Mills niece. When Mrs. Mills took seed of Phynn, she required a second hand to help her manage the stresses and strains of her pregnancy, in addition to the other petty domestic commitments.
Subsequently, she asked for Cynthia to be brought to live with her as an auxiliary home support. By then, Cynthia had just clocked nineteen and had finished her basic education. During that time, Mark had already gained initial attachment to the family and subsequently, Mark and Cynthia managed to strike a pleasant rapport.
Their rapport was such that anytime Mrs. Mills’ visited the hospital to attend to her prenatal appointments, Mark would devote his time to lessen the chores that had piled up on Cynthia. Mark was quicker with the laundry and soon it became his lot; while Cynthia focused on cooking for the family and the tidying up of all the rooms in Dr. Mills’ eight bed apartment.
Then on one occasion, after the duo had finished their respective apportioning of tasks, Cynthia complained of feverishness and rushed to steal a brief shower. While showering, she suddenly heard some footsteps approaching. Wondering whom it was, she noticed it was Mark. ‘Oh Mark, you scared me. Is everything alright?’; Cynthia asked.
Mark responded in the affirmative, confirming that nothing was wrong. After that reply, Cynthia expected Mark to leave the scene, given how she was wetly watered and the transparent nature of the curtain that hanged on the front of the bathroom cubicle.
But Mark had other intentions for coming closer. His intents at this point became obvious to Cynthia who sensed that Mark only wanted to get intimate with her. ‘Ermm Mark, is there anything you want to ask again, or you want to also take a shower?’.
Hearing this, a sudden adrenal elevation engulfed Mark. His hormonal secretion approached an all time high, and soon, the front of his zip became swollen. Cynthia welcomed his step into the shower and before long, the drizzling sounds of the shower was married with intense moaning.
Cynthia’s right thigh sat on Mark’s hand in the flowing water; creating a convenient opening to the heart of her femininity. But Mark shied away from it at the initial stages. He managed to restrain the urges of the ruler that stood beneath his abdomen. Rather, he broke down on his knees and accurately gauged his head into the belly of Cynthia. Grabbing her navel with his tongue, Cynthia looked for support on the walls of the bathroom. However, the walls were dripping wet and too slippery to accommodate her fingers, and hence her hands had to helplessly massage the walls.
She was wriggling in pleasure; with her head looking into the ceiling of the neatly tiled bathhouse. Soon, Cynthia gripped Mark’s head, as if to pluck out his hair from their roots. The more she grabbed his head, the more Mark stroke her belly with his erect tongue.
Sensing the height Cynthia was ascending, Mark abandoned Cynthia’s fair belly and gauged the junction of her thighs. The moment his tongued made contact, Cynthia lost control of her body entirely! Initially she claimed she was feverish. But now the feverishness seemed to have disappeared. Her body’s temperature was beyond accurate assessment, and in the ensuing seconds, her feet were shaking; as she herself panted for breath.
Occasionally, Mark lifted his head to observe Cynthia whose lips were churning slow rhythmic moans. The sight delighted him; and that made him wear a coy smile of accomplishment. Energised by the right notes he was hitting, he placed Cynthia’s right thigh further on his shoulder, and while he still knelt, he slowly stretched his hands along Cynthia’s curved waist and reached for her nipples which stood uprightly erect. They had grown thickened, sprouting from the black round circle on her breast.
After his second stroke of them, Cynthia finally spoke in a submissive tone and pleaded thus : ‘Mark, why don’t you just go ahead?’. Without hesitation, Mark got up from his knees and turned Cynthia’s back to his face. At this time, Cynthia was completely worn out, and her body was left to the malleable handling of Mark’s enriched muscles.
He softly pressed Cynthia’s neck to the ground, making her huge back balls the only view in his sight. From here, he slowly located the space between Cynthia’s thighs and there it went! Mark had arrived in her wet pool.
The event finally ended, and Cynthia got pregnant; all to the blind side of Mrs. Mills and her husband. With the money and connections Mark had built with his transactions at the port, he aided Cynthia’s flight to Germany for a safe delivery. Mrs. Mills was not excited about Cynthia’s leaving, yet after long hours of persuasion, she finally agreed. Cynthia left with the excuse of wanting to further her education; an excuse which resonated well with the Mills’.Meanwhile, she was on her way to deliver Mark’s first son!
After her delivery, Cynthia managed to secure the necessary permits and stayed in Germany where she raised her only son.
Now back to the house of Mrs. Mills where Phynn was navigating her way into her father’s shots, Mark’s son, together with Cynthia were on their way to the house to visit the Mills’ in a very long while. Mark’s son had grown into a handsome young engineer who was determined to establish his own automobile company in Ghana.
It must be noted that Mark died after a brief period of illness, and hence the fatherhood of Andrew, Mark’s son was known to only Cynthia. Cynthia and Andrew finally arrived at the gate, and Franklin quickly attended to them.
On hearing the horn of the car, Phynn halted her seductive move and walked out of her Dad’s room. Just then, her phone rang. It was Violette; her younger sister. Violette was also visiting home after four long years in Germany.
EPISODE 7
‘Oh my God! I can’t believe this is you!!!’ … Screaming at an excited pitch, Phynn ran joyously to embrace Violette, her beloved sister! The two held on to a long emotional hug which suddenly filled their eyes with unrestrained tears.
The chauffeur who rode Violette home was lost between two throughts. In one instance, he felt a need to separate the two emotionally engrossed sisters. However, he ignored the scene and allowed their deep emotions to fester on.
While still hugging, Dr. Mills, who appeared to have been awoken by the enchanted screams of the sisters walked to the compound to witness what was happening.
From where he stood, he saw Phynn’s back; whereas Violette’s face looked his direction from the side of Phynn’s neck. The moment her teary eyes met her oncoming father, she hastily released her grip of Phynn and ran to embrace him.
Her emotions were high at this point, and she was charged with extreme excitement. Racing to embrace Dr. Mills, Violette lost balance on the soles of her heels and landed a very heavy fall.
Her phone moved miles away from her grips, as she laid collapsed on the luxuriously tiled rainy compound.
Calamity had coloured a day meant to arouse only celebrations. Her head had also hit the floor, and in a matter of seconds, a pool of blood was soon forming.
Scandalised and rudely surprised by what had happened, Dr. Mills rushed to kneel by her injured and collapsed daughter. Before bending on his knees, Phynn was already on Violette, yelling uncontrollably. As for Franklin, he stood completely mesmerized – not knowing where to turn or the emotion to express.
Amidst the quagmire, Violette’s chauffeur bumped into Dr. Mills and Phynn and raised Violette from the soaked turf. He opened the door of the car, and speedily, he drove out of the already opened gates to salvage the situation.
Dr. Mills, who was also unsettled by the manifested calamity, quickly rushed to his room to grab the keys to one of the family’s cars. Upon his return from his room, he tried lifting Phynn from the floorwho was still walloping in uncontrollable tears.
When he noticed he couldn’t calm Phynn, he sat in and sped out of the house as well; leaving Phynn and Franklin the gatekeeper alone in the hugely imposing family mansion.
Hell seemed to have broken loose; and what was intended to be a red lettered day was rather fashioning out to be an archived moment of tragedy. The blood stains still sat in the middle of the house, with the drizzling showers creating holes in spillage and washing it away along various flowing diversions.
As for Phynn, she was still held up in her tears; and was screaming on the top of her voice. Ordinarily, Franklin may have attempted to hold her together. However, his very recent experience with her earlier in the day was particularly hostile; for which reason he held his peace and returned to his post, after locking the gates.
Manuel drove at top speed, aiming to arrive at the hospital in the quickest second. He was being followed closely by Dr. Mills whose heart was beating twice than usual. Pressing the full blast of their horns, Dr. Mills and Manuel, Violette’s chauffeur soon arrived at the hospital.
Violette was quickly disembarked from Manuel’s ride and was laid on a wheeled stretcher to the emergency unit. At this point, she laid lifeless, with her watch and chains dangling around her body as the nurses pushed the stretcher.
Manuel was in the middle of documenting Violette’s details at the Outpatient’s Department, when one of the nurses ran to his side, panting. ‘Sir, Sir … erm the man you drove here with … his head is on his steering wheel. Please come along’.
Alarmed by the update, Manuel, who was already sweating left the counter and hurried to check on Dr. Mills. Those who sat at the OPD (Outpatient’s Department) could sense the vibration of his legs as he zoomed passed them. On arrival, he met another scene of blood!
Dr. Mills’ head was buried in the steering, with his nose oozing profusely with blood! As a sexagenarian, Dr. Mills had been cautioned by his medics to avoid triggering his emotions due to the previous episodes of cardiac arrests which he had briefly experienced in the past.
The doctors had also warned him to stay away from tensed circumstances which had the tendency of arousing his blood pressure and causing his heart to beat beyond its reasonable limit.
However, the emergency drive from home to the hospital seemed to have violated all the medical cautions given him; and here was the outcome – a dead man in the front of his luxuriously customised vehicle. Manuel grabbed his shirt, tore them and wept like a child !
On his way to the house from the airport, Violette had engaged him on how good a man Dr. Mills was. Their conversation was filled with joy and excitement. The two relished a welcome return party that was going to make that very Friday an unforgettable one. But here in the moment, everything seemed to have gone south!
The smell of blood had suddenly replaced the pleasant smell of the champagnes Violette had packed at the back of the car. The day had simply been turned upside down!
The nurses quickly moved Dr. Mills from his car and wheeled him to the morgue. Of all men, Manuel was the most sorrowful and distraught in that hour. The attention of all the onlookers was directed at him. Those who didn’t have the full compliment of the events even had his sympathies!
‘Piiiing!’ Another horn sounded in front of Dr. Mills’ gate. It was Mrs. Mills! Together with Brisla and Jane, her two other daughters. For the last two months, Mrs. Mills and the two younger girls had been away in the Bahamas on a shopping spree and a relaxation vacation.
On their return, they had stuffed enough goodies to thrill the family and to throw the house into a prolonged weekend of partying, wining and dining! Ignorant of the turn of events, Mrs. Mills’ car was bashing out loud sounds of music to mark the start of the family’s jamboree.
Her two daughters were also in the same elated mood. Apparently, they had spoken to Violette a day before; who had told them she was coming home that same evening. While they waited for the gate to be opened, Cynthia and Andrew also joined them at the back of the gate, blowing their horns as well.
But the gate still remained closed. Apparently, given her prevailing ordeal, Phynn had thrown herself into an immediate drinking spree to ward off the day’s pains. She laid naked in the hall once again; this time completely lifeless in the scattered bottles of the heavily intoxicating wines.
But where was Franklin, the gatekeeper? Was he at the scene of Phynn’s nakedness?
EPISODE 8
‘… Such an interesting world. Upon all the arrogance and rudeness you exude, do you now see your end? … Do you see how fragile and vulnerable you have become? …’
This was the nature of Franklin’s utterances and monologue as he paced the floor around the drunken Phynn; who laid lifeless in her birthday suit.
To be clothed in one’s birthday suit is to be totally naked; and that was Phynn’s precise condition in the couch. Unlike earlier, she had no weaving of fibre to cover her immensely curved form and sensually alluring body.
Her breasts stood bare, and the junction of her thighs had no protection. Like a frozen corpse in the morgue, she laid mundane and vulnerable, yet invitingly edible.
Thrilling his eyes to the spectacle, Franklin recalled to himself, the numerous hostilities Phynn had meted to him. He recounted the countless ugly moments where Phynn had
verbally assaulted his person and made a ruthless mess of his ego.
Each time such an instance flushed through his mind, another ounce of anger added on to his already raging heart. It was one recap after the other until finally, his ’elastic tolerable limit’ tore off!
Experts in emotional therapy have frequently opined that there’s an extent of provocation each individual can accommodate. They have indicated that this disposition varies from one person to the other.
And so whereas John may be able to contain a truck load of irritations, Daniel may react and blurt out at the least shade cast at him. This accounts for the varying degrees of anger episodes people experience and demonstrate.
The extent of irritation and annoyance one may be able to absorb in a given instance constitutes the individual’s ‘elastic tolerable limit’. In the circumstances, Franklin’s limit reached its maximum, and he contemplated shedding it off in-between Phynn’s legs.
Nothing restrained him from actualising this vile deed that had crossed his mind. He was convinced that the opportunity to actualise his brewing revenge had finally presented itself; and there was no way he wanted to spill such a treasured moment.
Engulfed simultaneously in aroused passion and heightened fury, Franklin unzipped his huge khaki trousers. What followed next was his dimly coloured boxer shots which held his agitated middle leg. Drawing out his thickened fertility rod, he parted Phynn’s opened legs further, and thrusted her with the venom of a dispatched arrow, shot from the bow of a provoked hunter!
‘Ouch!’ Phynn moaned. Her moan was soft and relaxed. It was difficult to tell whether she was responding in pleasure or drowning in pain. The rationale behind sexual moans are usually difficult to decipher. In one spine, they may connote pleasure; and yet indicate discomfort at the same time.
She tried to raise her hands to push Franklin off her exposed skin. However, her eyes were drowsy and couldn’t open; and her arms were too weak to maintain a resistive balance in the air.
It was the case of an arrogantly-spirited and cheeky daughter of a rich catechist, who had fallen prey at the mercy of a bitter gatekeeper with harboured dissensions from the past.
‘Ouch!’ Phynn moaned yet again. But the more she moaned in helplessness, the further Franklin turned in on her with vigour. The opposite exchanges continued for about ten minutes until when Franklin arrived at the peak of his orgies.
He pressed his two hands on Phynn’s two breasts and stretching his neck, he heaved a huge sigh of pleasure; a telling that he had gushed enough fluid into Phynn’s warm opening, and was adequately satisfied.
Phynn’s movement at this point was weak and pitiful. Her attempts to raise her head yielded no progress; likewise her efforts to shut her thighs which were widely apart. With the loose opening of her thick fair thighs, came the slow backward flow of the excess of Franklin’s heavy discharge in her. They poured out slowly, creating a dripping pool on the couch.
Franklin stood with a fulfilled demeanor. The aura of accomplishment that was welling up in his revengeful and callous heart was obvious. His manhood at this time had lost its stiffness and was less turgid. Its state was a balance between stiffness and neutrality.
One may have thought that the crassly behaved gatekeeper had had enough. However, there was another fantasy in his vile head. Franklin grabbed the jaws of Phynn and gave them a stern press. The impact created a painful but slight opening in Phynn’s mouth.
Seeing the mild opening, he forced his shaft into Phynn’s mouth and occupied the rest of her cavity with his dangling manhood. Phynn couldn’t resist the imposed pleasure due to her heavily drunken state. She was beyond any act of personal defense; and that gave Franklin unfettered access.
Soon, Franklin’s shaft grew thick again, after a while in Phynn’s mouth. He quickly removed it and pounced on Phynn again; this time with enhanced aggression. Unlike before, Phynn couldn’t lift a hand. She laid totally numb and sympathetically lifeless. Meanwhile, Franklin proceeded unabated – thrusting, turning, winding, twisting and dishing out heavy strokes.
‘Pingggg! Pingggg!’ The horns grew severe and incessant outside the gate. Mrs. Mills was now frustrated, likewise Cynthia and Andrew. Alarmed by the relentless knocks, Franklin jumped off Phynn, created some order and rushed to the gate – bare chested.
He managed a convincing explanation as to the delay and welcomed the guests indoors. Before closing the smaller gate, Mrs. Mills heard a loud push from behind.
It came from four heavily built masked men wielding readied riffles. One of them had forcefully pushed Franklin aside while he locked the gate. ‘Hands up!They yelled’.
Apparently, the marauders had followed and traced Mrs. Mills right from her arrival at the airport.
What happens next? Watch out for episode 9.
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By: Paa Kwesi SCHANDORF
(+233) 273141821
The writer of this prose is a Freelance Journalist, a Corporate Emcee, and the Head of CONTENTLYghana; a Communications/Public Relations Firm.
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Paa Kwesi Schandorf 