It has been months since I wrote anything proper. Writers block? Coronavirus? Work? Let’s blame them all lol. I’ve been working on this lately since Perspectives publishing is taking forever (thanks to the global pandemic).
This is an incomplete story, about some realities of life. I don’t have a title for it yet, so let’s just call it Akaa & Alima. Thank you guys for reading my stuff, and critiquing me, and encouraging me, even threatening me! Perspectives will definitely be published soon. In the meantime, here’s Akaa & Alima.
PS. To all the Barca fans out there… my condolences? Lol! It gets better… take it from this Arsenal fan!
Dear Mr 007.
Today, we have a special young lady for you. We realised you were getting tired of seeing the same old faces over and over again, and we took it upon ourselves to change that today.
As always, this young lady is to be at your beck and call for the duration of your visit here. She is to ensure that you have a comfortable stay in every possible way, especially considering that tomorrow is a special day for you. To ensure that tomorrow is made extra special, she is under strict orders to disallow anything sensual, until the stroke of midnight, when the day begins. Everything else, however, is allowed.
She is a deeply affectionate lady, and has been trained to take care of you, and your needs. Don’t hesitate to let her know if there’s anything you’d want or need. As much as it may seem so, she will not be a passive partaker, rather, a very active one. Unless of course, at any point in time, you’d prefer her passivity.
She is not a good dancer by many standards. However she will enjoy dancing with you, and is very warm to that prospect. She knows you do not want anything extra … however that term ‘extra’ is very relative. By her standards, there will be nothing extra.
As you always do, We know you will treat her with all the respect, dignity, and care that’s necessary. You are set to have an amazing visit, which will constantly replay in your memories, and leave you wanting much much more.
We, as always, have you in mind. You remain our favourite client.
PS. As you already know, this message will self-destruct an hour after you open it.
Akaa could already feel his loins twitching. It had been a long while. Initially, he did this once every month or so, when he could. At least for the most part. Because of business though, and a few other things that needed handling, he hadn’t visited in close to eight months. But they knew he’d be back for his birthday month. He needed the time away.
‘They’ were a company that ensured that his sexual needs and fantasies were all taken care of. They were very discreet, very reliable, and had never failed him in the past 2 years that he’d been frequenting their facility
Akaa was a married man. Married with three beautiful kids – A six year old boy who was a spitting image of him, their surprise 5 year old girl, and their adorable two year old girl.
His wife was beautiful! His most prized asset, he called her. Whenever they attended an event together where he had to speak, he’d call her up and introduce her – always, without fail. “And everyone, this is my precious Dionne, my most prized asset.”
Dionne was very light skinned, with delicate features. She was mixed-race, half Lebanese, a quarter Ghanaian, and a quarter Ivorian. She was also very petite – didn’t look like she’d had three children. At thirty five, she looked twenty. She was the lead Pharmacist at a large pharmaceutical company. She was great at her job, great at being a wife, and even better at being a mother. Only issue he had with Dionne was how unadventurous she was. But that was okay. He didn’t want to bother her with things that would put a strain on their marriage. So he made sure to take good care of her, and the kids too, while ensuring he was also well taken care of from time to time. He took her everywhere whenever he could. She knew most of the nitty-gritty of his work, and knew when he had to be out late and when he had to travel for work. She was also a pretty busy person. Hence she trusted him – there was no room or time for mistrust.
Once every month or two, she ‘knew’ he had to travel for an audit. It was held in different places, and she could not possibly suspect a thing, when she was the one who always packed and unpacked his bags, and never found anything odd.
He didn’t want to disrespect her by finding a side-chick, or some regular girl, that would one day show up at his house to blackmail him. So the agency was ideal, really.
He had stumbled upon the agency quite by mistake actually. He had driven out of town once when he needed to think – there was a great business deal he was getting into, and much as it was going to be lucrative, it also had excessive risks. Driving helped him think. So he’d driven two hours out of his home in Accra, somewhere close to the Kwahu Mountains.
He was cruising somewhere in the mountains, in a particularly deserted area, when he spotted the building. It was almost underground. Initially it looked like a fancy new factory that was half above ground, half underground. After circling it for a bit, it looked like a huge hotel. There was no signage, so he got curious. He drove in, thinking he’d call Dionne and say he took a drive and only just realised he was too far out to drive back home.
He wasn’t allowed in initially. The security man had to confirm from the front desk if he could be allowed in. he was asked for his name, and a photo ID, to be able to get the verification from the front desk.
Of course most people had heard of him. So it wasn’t hard getting in. and when he did get in, he was ushered in the manager’s office. She was a beautiful young woman, looked mid-forties. She had a short perm cut, and had well-done make up. Her eyes were big and beautiful, and when she got up to meet him and shake his hands, he realised she had long, beautiful legs.
She was a pleasant woman. She explained that they were an up and coming human resource centre that was planning to train different people from all walks of life, for different positions in different companies. They exchanged pleasantries, and he returned home that evening.
It wasn’t until a few months later, that an old colleague visited from Switzerland. They were in deep conversation at the golf club, when he mentioned an agency that ensured that men had their needs well taken care of. They however had a number of rules, of which discretion was the biggest. They gave code names to each member, and communicated via special email servers, with emails that would automatically delete a few hours after being read. It was a very well planned and very thought out system they had. It excited Akaa.
They never forced any of the girls into anything. They took care of each girl’s education and wellbeing, and none of the girls ever had any complaints about the system. Their facility also had everything in-built, so there was little to no chance of getting found out. They had surveillance cameras all around and did not let just anybody past their gates. And if they did, they fronted as an HR institution. Each person also signed series of NDAs, so it was somewhat foolproof.
It dawned on Akaa then that it must have been that facility he saw. They allowed new members in only via referrals. So his friend got him hooked up, and that started his new lifestyle.
It made his life so much easier. There were no plans of destroying his marriage – he had a great marriage. And he had a great sex life on the side. He didn’t have to worry about the fortnightly missionary sex they had. He was fine with it, because he knew that he had a regular supply of doggy-style, wheel barrow, good head (Dionne didn’t give head) etc. and it was all no strings attached! It was an expensive agency, but it was very well worth it.
Alima was fifteen when she was sent in by her uncle. She had always been the beautiful girl everyone envied – she developed rather early, and was quite voluptuous for a fifteen year old.
She was the tall wide – eyed girl, with rich black skin, and thick full hair. She’d been lucky in that regard. Her brothers all had their father’s skin – light with freckles, and their mother’s physique – stout. She on the other hand, had taken her mother’s black luxurious skin, and her father’s family buxom figure. Black, silky smooth skin, with no effort required to maintain, and the body of a goddess! She was also a very smart girl. Although her father did not believe in education, she had heard about school from one of the rich boys, who had lived in the city for a while, and been to school. He could read, and had started teaching her a thing or two. Everyone knew it was only because he wanted to marry her.
Hamamat, her mother, was the first wife. There were three wives. She’d had only sons initially – six of them. Alima was the last child, and the only girl. Her mother loved her so! No matter what happened at home, she was always the favoured one.
Her father wanted to marry her off quickly. Because of her exceptional beauty, he knew he could give her away for a very large dowry. But Hamamat wouldn’t have it! She wanted her daughter to go to school and have a beautiful future. She didn’t want for her the kind of life she had been dealt with – the kind she had no say about. Her daughter would have a say.
So she delayed the marriage many years. But she knew her tactics were not going to keep working. So when she turned 15, her mother asked her brother to send her to the city. To ensure that she somehow got the education she wanted.
Abu had only recently been told of the consult that took girls and made them into high class women. He didn’t know the full details, but he had heard they gave you money for bringing young girls, and when they returned 5 – 10 years later, they’d be high class women who wore modern clothes, and spoke good English. He had been put into contact with one lady there, and arranged to send Alima there. The person who told him had made him know that he was not allowed to let anyone know anything about it.
When the day was up, they left at dawn. Hamamat didn’t want any of the other family members interfering with her decision to give her daughter the best. Her husband was out of town, so he wasn’t the problem. The plan was to cry and pretend that Alima had run away into the city, because she’d heard so much about it.
It was a whole day’s journey. They weren’t just going to the city, they were going to the capital. They stopped in 3 different places, and rested at the sheds while waiting for the buses to arrive. Alima didn’t know what exactly would happen, but she was happy about the prospect of going to school, and becoming a high class lady. She saw women driving in the city, and decided the next time she visited her hometown, she would be driving there.
Her uncle sent her to Aunty Nita, the lady who was to take care of her for the next few years. They met at the bus station, and she took them to a small restaurant to eat while they discussed and signed all that needed to be signed. He had lied about her age and said she was eighteen. (She had already been told not to ever mention her actual age, or they might send her back to the village.) He was given a hefty amount of money ‘for his travel.’
Nita was a nice lady. Not very beautiful in the face, but she was soft spoken and very pleasant. She was also very classy. The exact kind of person Alima wanted to be. She was in a very trendy jumpsuit, with a stylish updo, and her nails were painted a beautiful plum. She was very calm and quiet.
In the first one year, Alima and 4 other girls were taken through formal education. They were taught to read and write, and only allowed to communicate in English. She was everyone’s favourite because of how fast she learnt, and how zealous she was. They were also gradually taught to use computers, to type properly, and to do basic receptionist work. At the end of the year, each of them was given a diploma in typing.
The next one year was for grooming. They were taught to walk, and talk, and act like ladies. Taught to sway their hips when they wanted to attract men, and to bat their eyes in sensual ways. They were taught to eat like ladies, in the most posh settings, and to drive and swim.
It wasn’t until the third year that they found out the reason their families were given money for them to be educated. By this time, they knew and loved most of their instructors, and felt indebted to them, especially due to how well their families were compensated, and how far they’d come as ladies. So there was no going back. They were taught the art of seduction in the third year.
Alima in particular was specially groomed for one client. She had seen a photo of him – tall, extremely dark handsome man in black sunglasses, wearing a T-shirt and blue shorts. He was laughing. He had a glass of wine in one hand, and was waving with the other hand. One look at him and she had butterflies in her tummy.
He was the one she imagined every time they were teaching her to do something. Twerk, pole dance… or whatever. She prepared a whole year to meet him.
She was only allowed five practice clients and those clients were really just to be sure that she was ready for that one client – Mr. 007.