If I survive this abduction, the first thing I will have would not be a meal or bath but a hard, fast and furious fuck with myself till I am sexually satisfied. Who am I kidding? Sexual satisfaction is a myth; I have never experienced it, and under my current predicament: bound and locked up in a windowless room far from the cozy ambience of my Ikoyi Towers apartment, it is a mirage. I am going to burst into flames soon, if I don’t get fucked. Well, unless I get raped by my captors, which would really be a blessing in my nyphomanic condition.
Contrary to what people who don’t know my sexual preference, label me, I am not a lesbian but I prefer to have sex with myself. Thank heaven for dildos since I am a nympho to boot; a blessing it has always been, but it’s a curse at the moment for there is no way to quench the fire burning me up from within my very core. In my present need, I have moaned as seductively as I can manage, and wriggled like a geisha, hoping to get the attention of this gorrilla of a man guarding me as I lie here on the cold, hard floor.
The savage-looking hunk of a guard is, perhaps, a christian, as he kind-heartedly, unfastens the ropes binding my feet, and sits me upright. I forget to thank him; the feral scent of him is a heady musk that further sends my steaming hormones boiling over. The knee-lenght pleat skirt I wore rides up my thighs as I bring my knees up to press against my breasts. I am sure the G-string I have under is doing nothing to conceal my coochie and clitoris which is the size of a small boy’s penis – very pronounced. The kidnapper is not looking. I spread my knees apart to give him a broader view of my drooling pussy, he is still not looking. He simply grabs and squeezes his crotch, and retreats to take position by the closed door of my prison. What is this man made of, wood?
My need for sex far out-weighs my need for safety. As it is now, I need a good fuck before I self-destruct. I don’t mind if I get raped by the whole gang of kidnappers. I start to whimper, sobbing painfully; I am actually panting and yelping like a cur in heat. I am a bitch of course, and I am on heat, why is the savage not seeing that? He turns away. Damnations! How does a kidnapped socialite say “please fuck me” to her abductor? As a Lebanese, i don’t even speak a word of the sexy, Naija pidgin these crimiminals threatened my life in. All I could make out of their speech was “ransome money, father, pay, otherwise”. I am at a loss here; what if my ship-owner father fails to come up with my ransome money, and these sexless rogues kill me? To die without sexual gratification would be a huge waste.
I will keep working and hoping; unless they are all eunuchs, will my feminine charms fail to to hook one in. The feminine mystique has not failed a Daughter of Eve before; not Cleopatra or Jezebel, and certainly, not me, Delilah.