Black Master Shango took a puff of his cigar, fixing Tim with a baleful stare. No one said anything while they stood there waiting for him. Thaddeus turned his sight on Monica and smiled. Tim seemed to cower in the room before him; there was no doubt who the real man was right now.
“How’re you doing, Monica?” he said to her warmly. “Long time no see.”
“I’m just as happy seeing you, Thad,” she said; both of them fully knew there were few words to be said.
“You must be pretty tired. Why don’t you rest on any one of the sofas,” he indicated at one not too far from him. She thanked him and then went to the sofa he meant and lay down on it. She could almost sense the headache leaving her. He then turned his gaze back at Tim and this time he wasn’t smiling.
“How’re you doing, Tim, white boy?” he said to him. “My boys tell me you were hurrying to leave. Why and for what reason, white boy?” he smoked his cigar.
“I wasn’t leaving anywhere,” Tim said sheepishly like someone whose hand had just been caught in the cookie jar. “My wife, Monica, has a plane to catch and I wanted her to be on it.”
“Hmmm. That sounds explainable. But what if she didn’t want to go? Did you by any chance ask her if she wanted to? Knowing the impetuous type of fellow you are, it’s obvious you never did such.” Shango paused to sip his wine, then got up from where he sat. “Since you were kind enough to bring her along, how about we asked her, shall we?” he turned to Monica and smiled. “Monica, it’s so nice seeing you again. I hope my boys didn’t put you in any type of distress when they arrived at your home?”
She sat up. “Well, I was kind of frightened at first. I didn’t know who they were. But knowing they came from you … I guess I’m intrigued about whatever’s going on.”
Shango turned to look at her husband and grinned like a devil at him. “Aww, what a silly white boy you’ve been, Tim. How could you not tell your wife all the fine points of our agreement we spoke over on the phone earlier on. Such a shame.”
Tim glowed red and looked down at his feet in embarrassment. Monica looked at him then back at Shango, speculating on whatever was going on between them.
“What’s going on, Tim? What are you not telling me?”
“I’ll tell you what he hasn’t told you,” said Olu Shango. He took one last drag on his cigar before turning around to a coffee table beside his chair and extinguishing the cigar on an ash tray then turned back to face them. “Your hubby, Tim, came to me with a problem. A rather pressing problem he wanted to make go away with much discretion and as swiftly as possible. I told him I can make such problem go away of course, but at a giveaway price. Can you guess what my price was, Monica?”
His eyes held hers in a firm gaze. It rattled Monica to stare back at him. She looked back at Tim who now was blushing so hard and didn’t want to meet her stare.
“I don’t … I know nothing about any price,” she replied Olu. “I know nothing at all about whatever problem he’s having.”
“I know you don’t, Monica. A shame the things husbands keep from their wives. I will leave the fine details to him to tell you, but I’ll let you in on my part of the bargain. What I want from him, quite simply, is you.”
Monica brought a hand to her chest; her lips came open with startled surprise. “Me … me?”
He nodded. “Yes, Monica, you. Your hubby here already signed the contract yesterday evening. Except this morning he wants to turn chicken on me.” His face hardened at Tim. “But I’m not about to let that happen.”
Tim came forward. “I told you Olu, I told you on the phone, let’s keep her out of this—”
The senior officer who all the time had stood at ease at the parlour’s entrance rushed Tim from behind. Monica yelled out to her husband but before Tim could take one more step towards Olu, he doubled over in pain as he felt someone strike the lower section of his right ribs. The senior officer kicked the back of his knee, bringing Tim down to his knees. Monica wanted to come to him but cried in surprise when Olu’s fist held her from making a move, turning her to face him.
“I’ve been eyeing you since you arrived here, Monica. I’m not about to renege on the deal I made with your wimpy husband here, and as long as you try not to fight, you’ll see how much of a gentleman I really am.”
Monica looked at him then at her husband whose features were grim with hurt while the senior officer stood three feet behind him, watching should in case he wanted to try something again, and then looked back at Olu, wondering whatever the outcome of today might turn out to be.
“Whatever it is you want from me … I don’t know what it is, but I’ll do it. Just don’t harm Tim, please.”
Olu Shango smiled at her. “First, let’s see what you can do. Get down on your knees. Go on.”
Monica’s heart was cart-wheeling in her chest with fright, but she did as he wanted and slid downward to her knees till her face was aiming at his crotch. She saw the apparent bulge there, like something thick and strong was trying to break through his pants. Oh my God, please tell me that’s not his cock! She looked up at him and he smiled down at her.
“It’s calling out to you, Monica,” he said to her, pushing his crotch against her face. “Be a good white girl and unzip my fly and take my cock out of its hiding place, would you?”
Tim looked up at him and begged, “Olu, please … you don’t have to do this to her. She’s my wife, for God’s sake!”
“Shut up, white boy!” Shango snapped at him loudly. “Don’t dare provoke me by entering into my conversation ever again. She is your wife, but she’s my property now. So shut up and be a good white boy as you are, and watch.”
Monica was trembling as her hands worked his pants and pulled down on his fly’s zipper. She reached inside, feeling she was dipping her hand into a dark hole, and encountered his jockey briefs. She reached inside that one till she pulled out his semi-erect thick black snake. Her eyes grew wide at its size and she muttered another gasping sound.
“Oh my God!” she moaned.
Olu Shango threw his head to the ceiling and shook with laughter then turned to look down at her. “Don’t worry, babe. It’s not going to harm you. Not yet at least,” he chuckled. Almost immediately his voice barked harshly at her. “Well, don’t keep me waiting. Put those round lips of your to that cock and start sucking, slut!”
For more, go here: http://blackmastershango.blogspot.com/2012/03/merry-wives-of-black-master-shango-pt-1.html