My Husband Turned Me To His Maid

As much as I did not like to be disrespected or dominated in a relationship I did enjoy the thought of submitting to my man, once in a while that is.

Wale was the kind of man that made you want to submit. It attracted me to him somehow because I knew I needed that kind of man.

I needed a man I could rely on completely. A man like my father.

For the first time I didn't wait for more than a second outside before the security man opened the door.

It was as if he had sensed prior to my coming that I would be coming very angry so had decided to open the door earlier than usual. I would have chopped off his head had he done otherwise.

While I parked I earnestly prayed that I would not meet my parents in the parlour or anywhere around. I hoped that they would be sleeping already. God doesn't always give us What we ask for does he, because immediately I stepped into our house they were the ones I saw first.

My mum was massaging my dad's neck when I came in_ they were having a couples tete a tete.

I really wished they could just ignore me and continue with their conversation but Nigerian parents can never do that. They must find something to say to you.

"Goods evening mum. Dad good evening." I greeted, trying my best to sound as tired as I felt so they could easily let me go.

"Didn't you say you were not coming back today? What made you change your mind?" My dad asked and it was exactly the question I was dreading.

I knew he was going to ask me this and I still had not come up with a good excuse to give. I had to think fast.

"Have you eaten?" My mum asked breaking the tensed silence that soon ensued courtesy of my fast beating heart.

My mum was obsessed with me eating. She wanted me to add more Flesh so I wont continue to look so skinny like I'm malnourished, according to her. As for me I was hellbent on remaining skinny.

Like I said I really wanted to be like her when I grow older, she was the real definition of black don't crack. Fair, tall, beautiful, slim. I mean even in her early fifties she still looked so young and fit, she could pass as my sister.

Although she had more flesh than I did the difference wasn't much. Talk about not taking your advice.

"Yes mum I've eaten." My voice was strained even to my own ears. I was trying so hard not to complain and ask that they leave me the f.u.c.k alone! But then I was the one who interrupted their love play in the beginning so I just stood there and bore the consequences.

"So?" My dad c.o.c.ked his brows waiting for an answer.

"Well I decided that it wasn't yet time to be sleeping over and oddly I missed my bed." I answered coming up with a quick lie.

I always came up with the best lies when I was under pressure. That's why I stopped thinking of excuses/lies before the time they were needed because strangely unlike most people I did do better when under pressure.

"But you can wear his shirt." My mum asked looking at me suspiciously. To every mother their daughter was a V.i.r.g.i.n. I almost choked at the reprimanding expression on her face.

"Mum he picked me up. I had a long day and decided to freshen up before I come home."

"I see." My dad murmured giving me the I don't believe eye. He intertwined his hands with my mums making me remember my now single state. I almost broke down crying, How could they be so ins.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e to my plight then again they didn't know of it.

"I'm exhausted. Goodnight mum. Dad goodnight."

"Goodnight baby."

"Zara take of that mans shirt and wear your own night gown you are not lacking clothes." My mum shouted after me. Looking up the stairs as I climbed.

"Yes mum." I shouted back. I heard my dad laugh and then he told her to leave me alone that I was now a grown woman and then she was talking about my body being a temple of God.

I almost laughed out loud. She doesn't know whats going on.

I reached high up the stairs and her voice disappeared into mere echoes.