Boys On Rampage

CHAPTER 1-2

In a room upstairs, Shaba Boss was anxiously trying to fix herself into the latest straight sleeveless mini tight-fitting gown with its spaghetti hands well cut to cover her bulging breasts. This fashion statement brought out all her lines and contours.

Her real name was Amaka but she got herself this alias Shaba due to her fashion sense in emulating the fashion styles of a Jamaican band songstress, Shaba. Today, she was the Boss of a thriving business at the two-storied Prosti Hotels.

At 28 years Shaba Boss had come to realize painstakingly that some folly minded persons filled every corner of this wild wide world and no one was doing enough to help take care of the needs of seekers of s****l diets and varieties. Having been humbled by economic hardships in the borrowed clothes of unemployment for over six years after her graduation from the Polytechnic, she had given herself up to the oldest profession ever known to mankind. What else, she had several girls under her powers fixed in all the twenty-two rooms of the hotel who on daily basis make enough money that could feed a small army contingent. Her sound knowledge of the business and education was always her guiding light. She was always at alert and knew what the game of safety means as per the dangerous nature of her calling. Should a guy pride himself a superman to play the ball and dare to go as free as a free post mail, she would not stop from applying her knowledge of martial artistry to deal the fellow a life killer blow. It is usually as good as a squeeze of life out of the mouth. She vividly knew how hard she had suffered and how she had reached to this enviable height, thus, being addressed as the Boss hence, Shaba Boss. She could go down memory lane and remember the dolorous stroke that had broken the camel’s band.

Two years ago, she was fortunate to have won the hotel owner’s love. It was a standing rule decreed by the owner himself that he should not tempt any other girl to assuage his s****l fantasies except their boss and that boss was Tipsy Boss, the former Boss. His fly was Tipsy Boss’s exclusive preserve and gold mine.

So on that unusual day, Shaba Boss having come down from Lagos where she had fruitlessly searched for job in some well-established and not-so-well-established business firms, was in no mood of encouraging Jack’s curiosity in her. She came down from Lagos when she realized she had never wanted to be employed in a private sector field of labour. When she was at the Polytechnic, everything was obtained through indiscriminate s****l services between the lecturers and the students. She had thought that in the outside world s*x would not be the priority in getting what one wanted. It was very sad when she realized that except where nepotism has its roots, even at the Federal civil service, State and privately established firms and industries; the employer and the people at the helm of management are out for what they stand to gain from you. Women would have to offer their forbidden beauties else; they stand to forfeit the job offer, whereas, men except on merit, would be demanded to offer some kickbacks. The women’s own was placed under severe and silly obligations. It was nonsensical and Shaba could not see why she’d be asked to render most inhumanly her vitals so that she could be given a poor salary at the end of each passing month. Out of several job offers that came her way, she was only able to accept the offer that offered her no prospects for career development and exposed her to s****l abuses for a stipend. Instead, she did the wise thing by accepting the offer of a course mate and secured her place in the world of proclivity and professionalism. That way, as she had thought, she’d end up with a good livelihood coming from her possessing chain of shops around the city if she’d be able to get the capital for such venture. This was the alternative left her by the government.

After two years on the profession, she had remained poor and fed on what the body market offered her with no chain of shops to show for her struggles. She had been unemployed for more than five years, everywhere she went, they would openly make it known to her that her ordinary national certificate in Business Administration is worthless if only she’d accept the office assistant offer and a willing tool in satisfying their s****l desires. That time, she was not as beautiful as she is presently. She had acquired some beauty tips that have brought her all her heart’s desires. These days, creams and all sorts of imported toning lotions filled the markets. Her fashion sense had appreciated tremendously. And she had decided to make most good use of modern beauty products.

Wearing a face that looked like a s**t scattered with a catapult; she came back a frustrated girl from Lagos. Within two weeks of her stay, she got the best of all jobs from Tipsy Boss when the latter met her at the wedding party of their Polytechnic course mate right at the Tourist village.

Two days after resuming at Prosti Hotels, Shaba was given the rotational privilege to serve the hotel owner in his lair. It was the standard practice that Jack would have to check out every new girl in his hotel to find out for the sake of his teaming patrons who deserve their patronage without having to ask for a bite on the apple afterwards. Huge temptation it had always been for Jack, but he had always insisted on maintaining standard that is good for business.

Jack was seated round a table in the balcony drinking beers in the company of his fair weather friends. They were six, seated and chatting noisily. Tipsy Boss was also in their midst cracking jokes and heartily throwing her head in lively spirits in spite of her cruel secrets. Her glistering greasy hair has a pink rose in it, and her bleached face was laced with brown powder to deceive and capture any of the mug guys among those present for her change of diet, for the night.

When Shaba had cleared the table of its empty bottles of wines and assorted locally made beers, the hotel owner, Jack, a young man in his late twenties excused himself from his company. At the kitchen door, he blocked Shaba’s way and lustfully requested her presence in his hotel room later in the night. That was a pleasure kindly given and accepted. Shaba was greatly thrilled by Jack’s dazzling beauty and courage. Shaba had always fallen for such a man head over heels on several occasions in her hey days. According to what her colleagues had said of him, he was sexually terrific more than a live wire could be inside the curtained chambers. And was well endowed.

She ran upstairs to pace around, pinching her body to avoid missing the rare opportunity of dining with a real man whenever sleep tortured her eyelashes.

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