Lagos

The following narration takes us to the very edge of decency and good


taste so anyone among you who is easily offended can fuck off right now.














I don't know who or what they were expecting but
whatever it was, I wasn't it.
I had arrived hot and bothered with my feet feeling
like a pair of pig's trotters so I stripped off bollick-
naked and guzzled the contents of my little bar and
rang down to order more ,Hennessy, Smirnoff Blue and
Jaegermeister, at least pint bottles thereof, and don't
make me go down to yis, or there'll be wigs on the Green.
So I perforformed my ablutions, s,s&s and was busy
modelling one of those towelly dressing-gowns, Jesus,
do they not make them in mens sizes ? Think of a cross
between a Sixties Brigitte Bardot and the Incredible Hulk,
nice legs though.
My reverie was interupted by a light tap on the door, too
light for a porter, I thought, as I answered and how
right I was because what met my gaping face was one
of the tallest, darkest, most sensual women I had ever
clapped eyes on followed by an even more exotic blonde.
" Mr. Mbosi sent us to keep you company until he can
join us." purred Rosie
" He hopes you will excuse his tardiness " added Katya
as they introduced themselves.

They then proceeded to do more for me than any
woman has done for a long time. Katya managed to
tune Sky Sports in ,which I had been unable to do,
while Rosie poured me a tumbler of Smirnoff Blue
and rang room service for some Champagne and 3
plates of Lobster Thermidor, the speciality of the
hotel.
As the evening passed I pretended not to notice them
adding something to each drink they fixed for me and
I can't say what it was thay added, I do, however,
know what I added to theirs. You have never lived
'til you see the effect an Ecstacy and a Cialis tablet
have on even the most modest of women, and this
pair of beauts were certainly far from modest.
I popped a couple of Dexys myself in case whatever
they had given me was not strong enough and
watched them getting jiggy with each other, suffice
to say, there was not a dry seat in the house.
Such a fucking night we had, or should that be the
other way around.
I was awakened rather roughly the next morning
by our Mr. Mbosi, as I discovered him to be,
poking a knife into my goolies and when I tried to
jump up found my wrists handcuffed to either
side of the Four-poster.
He held in his hand a bayonet of some sort with a large hilt

affixed to a blade which must have been at least a foot long

and he was flicking at my balls as a fisherman would flick lice off

a wild Salmon.