Mistress of Ruin

"What nonsense is this?" The question came from the restless twenty-one-year-old Yolanda Nyoni.

With one hand on her hip, the other held a wad of money. She tapped her stiletto-clad foot on the floor as she furiously waved the wad of money in the face of the man who sat on the edge of the double bed, pulling on his tie.

"It's the money you asked for," thirty-four-year-old Gershom Chomba replied sheepishly, cursing his luck.

He had hoped she would not bring up the topic of the money until they had done the deed and he had had his fill. It would have been easier to appease her with sweet nothings after a steamy session.

"Mxxtch. What do you take me for? Nonsense," she said and threw the wad of money at his face.

The force behind the throw caused the crisp notes to break from the paper clip that held them together. The notes fluttered in the air before floating down to the tiled motel room floor. "This is ninety-five thousand kwacha short."

Gershom heaved a frustrated sigh and looked up at the curvy girl in the sexy, midnight blue babydoll, crotchless lingerie.

VThe moment she had taken off her black trench coat to reveal the sheer, see-through babydoll lingerie, desire flared up in his body. He itched to touch her curvy, moonlight-yellow body and bury himself in her.

"I know." He had expected this reaction, except he had not thought she would demand the money as soon as he walked into the room.

Throughout the day, she had been on his mind. Earlier that day, while the whole world slept, he had woken up to an erotic video of her "playing" with herself while calling out his name with passion-filled eyes.

The lewd video had left the thirty-four-year-old father of three sexually frustrated.

Unfortunately for his wife, who just happened to stir in her sleep at that very moment, she became the receiver of his lust evoked by another woman.

Moreover, during the course of the day, his phone had pinged nonstop with more of her lascivious pictures. By the time he clocked off for the day and headed towards their usual rendezvous, his lust for her was already evident in his slacks.

"Well?"

"I am strapped for cash at the moment."

He was a family man. He had a wife and three tiny mouths to feed. As it already was, this year-long affair was beginning to take its toll on him and his relationship with his wife.

What had been merely fun and games had slowly begun turning into a headache. On one hand, he had his nagging wife, while on the other hand was his girlfriend, who thought of him as a walking, talking ATM machine. Her demands were getting ridiculous by the day.

Nevertheless, as ridiculous and preposterous as Yolanda's demands were, she was worth it.

In her prime, she had a youthful glow to her smooth skin and perfect curves. In all his thirty-four years on earth, he had had a taste of all types of women, his wife included; to him, Yolanda topped the list by a mile.

"And how the hell is that any of my business?" Yolanda snapped.

"Come on, baby," Gershom said, standing up. He picked up some of the notes from the floor, reached for her purse, and placed them neatly in it. He then walked over to her and pulled her closer to him. "Just bear with me for a little while. I promise I will get you the rest of the money by the end of this week."

He drew her closer to him. At that moment, all he wanted was to have her naked body pinned under him and hear her moan in pleasure as their bodies rubbed together.

Gliding his hands over her smooth, soft, taut, and firm skin, the heat from her body excited him more. "I promise I will give you double what you asked for."

Meshing his lips with hers, he left her with no room to argue. When she finally managed to shove him away-

"You promise?" she breathlessly asked.

Nodding, he whispered a bunch of nonsensical words into her ears while backing towards the bed.

As his mouth sought hers, Yolanda's tiny fingers reached for his shirt. Caught in the wave of passion, she ripped the shirt apart and pushed him onto the bed.

Inwardly, Gershom was ecstatic that he finally managed to appease her. As he fell back on the bed, he noted with pleasure that her eyes were glazed with arousal.

Taking the lead, Yolanda straddled him and trailed kisses on his chest. Her hot breath on his skin had him closing his eyes and groaning in pleasure.

Gershom slid his hands up her hips and tugged at her pants to pull them down. He wanted the barrier between them gone once and for all; he was at the end of his patience. He thought that if he waited any longer, he would explode.

Sensing his impatience, Yolanda halted his actions, shaking her head.

"Not yet," she whispered in his ear.

"I can't hold on any longer," he growled through his teeth.

She smiled against his mouth and captured his lips in a sensual kiss as she glided herself against his phallus. Gershom closed his eyes, enjoying the sensations passing through his body.

Yolanda grabbed his hands and held them above his head. Reaching into her bag, she took out a pair of padded cuffs and strapped him to the metal headboard.

One of the reasons he loved her this much was because she was a freak in bed. He loved her unrestrained, wild bedroom antics, unlike his wife, who only conformed to "godly" ways.

Yolanda brought her lips to his and devoured them until he was breathless, while her hands slid down south. She moved her lips from his mouth, down his hairy chest, heading south.

With his breath held, his eyes narrowed to slits as he watched her, anticipating her next move.

She first took off his shoes and then reached for the buckle of his pants. For each inch of skin exposed, she rewarded him with a kiss.

By the time she was done, he was already in his birthday suit, his phallus standing proud and free. Gershom thought she was the best thing that had ever happened to the world. Each time he was with her, it was better than the first time.

Using his tie, she bound his feet to the bed. As he lay eagle-spread, watching her twerk her body for him, he had no doubt that she was indeed the eighth world wonder-his eighth world wonder.

In a raspy voice, he praised her moves and anticipated more. But just as he was getting all fired up, she turned, picked up her coat from the sofa, and began to button it up.

"Eh, babez, what's going on?"

Yolanda threw him a very innocent smile as she picked up her bag.

"Well, that's all for today," she replied as if she were discussing the weather.

"Babe, come on," he urged teasingly, his voice tinged with desire.

"You get what you pay for," she said, shrugging her shoulders and nodding towards the cash on the floor. "Your measly five thousand is worth that much of my services."

The smile froze on his face, confusion marring his expression.

He stared at her in shock. For a second, he thought it was a joke- until she began to retouch her makeup.

"Yolanda… come on… stop joking…"

"But I'm being serious, Gershom. From now on, it will really cost you a lot to have a piece of this."

"Come on. Can we talk about this?"

"Really? Do you have my money? I told you I urgently needed one hundred thousand kwacha for my hair and upkeep."

"…"

Yolanda scoffed, shaking her head. "You know I'm high maintenance, and I don't come cheap. If you have failed to maintain me, just tell me- I'll go look for greener pastures."

"Yolie, babez, come on," he pleaded pitifully, nodding towards his swollen member. "I promise that I will get you something by the end of the week…"

"I have heard that one before-last month, actually. I told you I needed forty thousand kwacha for my weekly grocery shopping, and you gave ten thousand-thirty thousand kwacha short. The other time, you made excuses as well when I asked you to get me the iPhone 17 Pro."

"But I just got you the Samsung Galaxy S24 a couple of months back!"

Hell, even his wife was still using the Samsung Galaxy S4 Mini, and she had had it for years now. Yolie, on the other hand, had changed phones twice since they had met.

"I don't like men with penguin hands. I was clear about what I wanted from you when we started this relationship. And like I said, if you are failing to keep up, someone else is capable of meeting all my needs."

Gershom shook his head. He couldn't imagine his Yolie in the arms of another man. He was her first. The fact that she had given him her purity made him possessive of her. She was his for keeps.

"You are right. A week is too far. How about tomorrow, huh? Before noon tomorrow, I will get you that phone you want as well as the ninety K, mmh."

"Promise?"

"I promise," he said, eyeing her curvy body lewdly. "Be a good girl and untie me. I want you so bad, babez."

"Okay."

She dropped her purse and coat, walked over to him, and meshed their lips together. What followed for the next few minutes were moans and groans as the two devoured each other's lips as if it were the end of the world.

Yolanda used her hands to work her magic on his member, but just as he was about to reach his pinnacle, she abruptly pulled away, a smirk on her face.

"Yolie?" he looked up at her, dazed. He couldn't trust the smirk on her face.

"Go home, Gershom. Call me only when you are man enough to cater to my needs…"

"Yolie… Yolie…Yolanda, this is not funny… Yo-Yolie, come on, you can't leave me like this!"

"My body is not for free."

She grabbed the sexy knee-length coat and slipped into it.

Reaching for her purse, she flipped her waist-length Peruvian weave over her shoulder.

When she reached the door, she threw the keys over her shoulder, uncaring where the tiny metallic objects landed.

Gershom called out to her to come back, but she never did. She closed the door behind her and put the "DO NOT DISTURB" sign on the door.

Reception…

"Room 423," Yolanda called over her shoulder as she stepped out of the elevator and walked past the receptionist's desk. "Your guest is in need of your help."

Before the puzzled receptionist could inquire further, she had already walked past the revolving glass doors, leaving behind the echo of her stilettos and expensive signature perfume.

While they were still trying to process what their regular guest had said, they got a call from one of the rooms complaining about noise disturbance.

The front desk passed the complaint to security, and two security personnel headed over to the room. Having worked in the industry for years, they had seen all types of weird situations-it no longer shocked them.

However, seeing one of their regular clients left high and dry with his rod sticking out, ready for action, was a new one for them.

The female security officer turned her face away and excused herself, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile.

The male guard thought the girl was heartless to leave a man in that state, and his heart went out to him.

Mortification washed over Gershom Chomba as he watched the face of the bewildered guard. "Don't just stand there. Find the damn keys!"

"Of course, sir," the guard replied. He reached for the sheets and threw them over him, then set off to search for the keys. His female colleague only joined him once he told her their guest was decent enough and it was all right for her to come in.

It took them a little over five minutes to find the keys

Grabbing them off the floor near the bathroom, he hurried over to uncuff the poor man.