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Nigeria's leading fictional story blog - Jack Sparrow of Pirates of the Caribbean fame, prophetess, plastic container, wetness, money, nylon, black, bag, white, mat, sweet.

Kalu drove to work that morning full of worrisome thoughts. Who is this prophetess? Is she really from God? How can I make happy an adulterous woman like Folake who sleeps with every man that draws closer to her? A woman of God should be warning me against a lady like Folake. Kalu had a frown on his face till he got to work. Being the reserved type he did not confide in his colleagues at work. By evening when he returned from work, Folake was already waiting for him in front of his flat. The moment Kalu drove into the compound, she dropped her bag on the floor and ran toward his car to welcome him. She was acting as though she had seen Jack Sparrow of Pirates of the Caribbean fame or Orlando Bloom. When Kalu came out of his car he wasn’t as excited to see Folake as she was to see him. Folake put her hands around him and tried to plant a kiss on his lips, but Kalu shooed her off and headed for his flat.

Folake was undaunted, she followed behind him still looking excited. When Kalu opened the door and went into his flat, Folake joined him. “Baby please give me a kiss; don’t act like we have been seeing each other every day. When was the last time you saw me?” “The last time I saw you, a man was banging away in-between your legs on my bed, while you moaned like a whore! Why should I be happy to see you again! Tell me Ashawo, why should I be happy to see you again?” Kalu barked, clearly livid with rage. Folake was so shocked that one would have thought that the things Kalu said about her were fabricated. It seemed as though she expected Kalu to forget the events of the past. Whatever juju she came with wasn’t working well. In despair she sat at the dining table and held her head with two hands. Kalu ignored her and went into his bedroom and locked the door behind him. For some minutes Folake sat at the dining table and shed a river of tears. When it seemed Kalu would not come out, she stood up and went into the guest room. She wasted no time in changing into some seductive wears and came out to knock on Kalu’s bedroom door. Kalu did not answer her; he was on the phone with Nkechi. He was tempted to narrate to Nkechi what was happening, but decided not to.

While he conversed happily with Nkechi, Folake went back into the guest room and locked herself in. Quickly she undressed herself, removed a small doll from her handbag, kept it on the floor and began to call Kalu’s name while masturbating herself. “Kalu, you have gone into me many times. On the basis of how I pleased you, you promised to marry me. You cannot leave me now! I command you by the power in-between my legs, come out and touch me tonight!” With that said, she picked up the doll on the floor and began to stroke it seductively. In Kalu’s bedroom, an overwhelming sexual lust came over him. “Baby, can we talk tomorrow, I need to go get something to eat?” Kalu asked Nkechi over the phone. “Okay, go get something to eat, baby,” Nkechi said reluctantly. As soon as Kalu dropped the call, he ran out of his room as if a rabid dog was chasing after him.

At the dining he did not see Folake; and so he tried the guestroom. When Folake heard his footsteps, she flung the doll on the floor and kicked it under the bed. She picked up her clothe and pretended to be dressing up. Kalu barged into the room and grabbed Folake who was stark naked and pushed her into the bed. Over the next one hour, they spent time in the bed moaning like sex slaves of the gods of Moab. It was late into the night when Kalu recalled he had not eaten and asked Folake to fix him a meal. Strangely, after the raunchy sexual sessions he had with Folake, he completely forgot the events of the past. From that night till the next day, he could not get enough of Folake. The next morning after Kalu had left for work, his neighbour, Ijeoma’s husband, came knocking on his door.  When Folake opened the door, he crept in. “How did it go?” Ijeoma’s husband asked. “At first it was tough, but I had to summon bottom power over him and he fell for it. He is mine now. The next stage will be to eliminate that his stupid girlfriend, Nkechi, who wants to reap where she did sow,” Folake replied. “Okay, that means I have done my work well. I want my full payment both in kind and cash,” Ijeoma’s husband demanded.

He wasted no time to take Folake into his hands and began to undress her hurriedly. Reluctantly Folake pulled away. “Oga, for your good, let me pay you only in cash. Like I told you, I have summoned bottom power, if you go into me now, I assure you, you will leave Ijeoma for me,” Folake pleaded. Ijeoma’s husband shrank away from her. “So I won’t be able to enter again,” he inquired with a deep frown on his face. “Ah Ah! It is not like that, by next week the power will have calmed and I will give you. You will surely enter oga mi (my boss),” Folake assured him. “Okay, go get my money then.” Folake went inside and returned with a wad of cash. Ijeoma’s husband counted it hurriedly, smiled and headed for the door. “Make sure you see the prophetess today concerning that Nkechi,” he stopped to say before stepping out of the flat. “Yes, I will see her before noon,” Folake said.

Folake spent the next two hours pacing naked around Kalu’s flat and confessing how she wanted him to treat her. As she spoke those diabolical words, she would periodically put in-between her legs, the doll which she referred to as Kalu and make commands over it. When she was done she went into the bathroom and masturbated herself till she collected into a plastic container, enough wetness from in-between her legs. She cocked the plastic container and put it in the fridge. When she was done having her bath, she went about to prepare a meal for Kalu. With the wetness, she was ready to launch her final assault on making Kalu her own. About twelve noon in the day she took the container and left to see the prophetess. “Did he make you happy as I commanded him?” The prophetess asked. “Yes, he did, but it was not without the exertion of some spiritual power over him.” “So, should I send him more attacks tonight as a warning?” “No prophetess, his body already looks too lacerated, I don’t want those spirits to kill him for me, abeg (please).” “You have only spent one night with him after a long period and you are already sounding weak. The battle has not yet been won o! That Nkeshi (Nkechi), we looked into her spiritual file last night. Huh! She prays fire! She is Fire!” “What can we do to stop her Prophetess?”

“Pay up the balance of your money first and then we can discuss Nkeshi,” the prophetess replied. Folake opened her handbag and removed a black nylon; out of it, she counted out one hundred and twenty thousand Naira and gave it to the prophetess. While the prophetess counted the money to be sure it was complete, Folake counted the bundle of notes she had left in the black nylon bag, hissed and announced, “All this money I am spending now, Kalu will pay back all of them. This is the money Chief Alake gave me to finish my house in Ikorodu.” The prophetess stopped counting her money. “If you don’t want to spend the money to get your man, then go and marry Chief Alake!” She and said. Folake waved her hands over her head and swore, “God forbid! I don’t want to die early! Chief Alake’s two wives, hahaha! Their juju is foreign made. They will kill me if I try to do that. The small change I get from Chief is okay for me, abeg.”

When the prophetess was done counting, she put the money in a bag and then asked, “Where is the rest of the money Chief gave to you?” Folake stood up and took the black nylon containing the money to her. “Keep it here,” she ordered. Folake kept the nylon bag on a blood stained white mat and stepped back. The prophetess stooped over the money. “Bola o!” the prophetess called her aid who was nearby. “Yes, holy mother!” the aid answered as though she was far away. “Anybody wey say Folake no go enjoy this money with peace wetin, go happen to am?” the prophetess asked in pidgin English. “The person go jam death throway patapata!” the aid replied in pidgin English. “Bola o!” the prophetess called her again. “Yes, holy mother!” she replied as usual. “Anybody wey go thief this money, wetin go do am?” “The person go add double to the money wey em thief come bring am back to Folake! Madness go follow till em go jam death throway patapata!” Like a soldier, the fat prophetess stood up and announced, “Folake, take your money. The spirits we serve have heard our voice. It is done!” Folake stood to her feet and collected the money and dumped it into her bag.

“Where is the water from your under parts which I asked you to bring?” the prophetess asked. Folake removed it from her bag and held it up in front of her. “Keep it on the white mat,” she instructed. Folake kept it on the mat. The prophetess stooped over the container and opened it. “Bola, bring the sweetness from the sea,” the prophetess requested. Bola handed her a stainless plate containing a mixture of black and white powdery substance. The prophetess scooped some of the powder and cast it into the container which held Folake’s wetness. “Kalu Umeh, as sweet as this powder is, so shall Folake be to you. You have gone into her and she pleased you, now you shall eat the sweetness of her wetness and shall become pleased with her for the rest of your life!  All the days of your life, Folake shall remain pleasant in your eyes till she breaks you free or death claims you. From the moment you eat this sweet wetness, your heart shall no longer have room for another woman. Omo Ibo o! Behold Folake your wife!”
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