MY WIFE IS A STRIPPER
CHAPTER EIGHT
The evening was quiet, the house still and empty. My uncle was away again, off to another one of his sermons. I had grown accustomed to his frequent travels, often using the time alone to unwind and prepare for the week ahead. I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my mind drifting in and out of sleep.
Suddenly, I felt something touch me. Instinctively, I jumped, thinking it might be a rat or some other creature, but to my horror, it wasn’t. Standing right in front of me, as bare as the day she was born, was Patricia.
My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of fear, anger, and something else something I was desperately trying to suppress. I knew what Patricia wanted, and I knew that this was a line I could not cross, no matter what. But my body, betraying my mind, reacted before I could stop it.
Before I even realized what was happening, my lips were already on hers. The shock of what I was doing jolted me back to reality, and I recoiled in terror. This was wrong so terribly wrong and yet I had allowed myself to be drawn into her trap.
Fear gripped me, and I reacted in the only way I could think of: I began to hurl insults at her, hoping to drive her away. in anger i mentioned her being a stripper. I called her every name I could think of, desperation lacing my voice. But instead of retreating, Patricia only became more aggressive, the moment she heard me mention stripper. She threaten to destroy me if i venture telling anyone.
I pushed her away, my mind racing for a way out of this nightmare. “Get out, Patricia!” I yelled, my voice shaking with a mix of fear and fury. “You’re a disgrace! A pastor’s wife, doing this? Get out before I lose it!”
But my words had the opposite effect. Patricia’s eyes narrowed, and a cold, dangerous smile spread across her face. “Oh, Fred,” she purred, taking a step closer, “you think you can scare me with your little outburst? You forget who holds the power here.”
I froze, her words sending a chill down my spine. “What are you talking about?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Patricia’s smile widened as she leaned in, her voice a whisper. “I have a hidden camera in this room, Fred. I’ve been recording everything. All it takes is one word from me, and I can tell your uncle that you tried to rape me. Even just the kiss do you think he’ll believe you over me?”
My blood ran cold. The realization of what she was saying hit me like a ton of bricks. Patricia had planned this all along, and now she had the upper hand. One wrong move, and my life would be ruined. My family will surely crucify me the moment the fine out. Not even my mom will believe me. she already thinks am guy.
She took a step back, watching as I struggled to process what she had just revealed. “So, you see, Fred,” she continued, her voice now calm and calculated, “you don’t get to expose me. If you try, you’ll only end up destroying yourself.”
I stood there, paralyzed by fear and anger. Patricia, still n***d and unashamed, looked at me with a smug satisfaction, knowing she had me cornered. I wanted to scream, to throw her out of the house, but I couldn’t risk it. She had won, and there was nothing I could do.
Patricia finally turned away, picking up her clothes and slowly getting dressed, her eyes focused on me. i sat down in my bed surprised and shocked. i can’t believe a good man like my uncle would harbour such a demon in his house as a wife.
TO BE CONTINUED
