March 4, 2024


[Short Story] Surgical Fate by Sixtie 9ine (Episode 1)[18+]

 

Home » [Short Story] Surgical Fate by Sixtie 9ine (Episode 1)[18+]

[Short Story] Surgical Fate by Sixtie 9ine (Episode 1)[18+]

Her breasts tumbled out of the material and swayed seductively in front of me. Unable to resist any further, I latched onto the nearest nipple and tried to suck it completely off her boob. She groaned and wrapped her arms around my head, burying my face in her chest. I grabbed the breast I wasn’t sucking on and rolled the nipple between my fingers. She shuddered and ground into my lap.

Here I was, naked in a tub with the only daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country. My name is Mofe Oladapo, I am one of Nigeria’s foremost facial surgeons and this is my story.

TUESDAY 3.25 AM

I was woken abruptly by a call on my phone, I checked the time: 3:26 AM. I was irritated at the caller’s timing but I picked the call anyway.

“What?”

“Dr. Mofe, my name is Demola, Demola Craig.” A voice said.

It took me a few seconds to place the name. Demola Craig, Dr. Demola Craig, Chief of Staff at the most prestigious hospital in Lagos. A hospital that I had tried to get into for many years.

“Why are you calling me at this hour?” I snapped.

“I need your skills.” He answered quickly. “It’s a high-profile case.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“They asked for you, by name.”

“They what, what’s going on?” I inquired.

“That’s the thing.” He answered. “I don’t know. All I know is they need the best facial surgeon, and that’s you. Look, the hospital has also authorized it so it’s legit. They’re offering twenty-five million naira, but you have to leave now and no questions.”

I swallowed hard and gasped. “25 mil, shit who’s the patient?”

“There is an Escalade parked in front of your place.” He elaborated. “They will answer what they can, en route, or do I call them and say you declined?”

“Tell them I’ll be down in 5 minutes,” I said, dressing quickly and heading for the door.

I found the car, as described, at the curb, a rather serious-looking man standing by the open rear door.

“Dr. Mofe?”

“Yes,” I answered. “And who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He said, “Please, get in. I’ll explain what I can.”

I entered the jeep, sliding into the plush leather seat, my new companion taking the space beside me.

“Your patient’s info is in this file.” He said, handing me the papers. “The top document is an NDA. I need you to sign it before we can continue.”

“Wait, who are you people?” I asked, signing the NDA.

“For now, just familiarize yourself with your patient.” He insisted. “We can talk later.”

During the trip, I read through the file, but when I finally saw her in person, I was completely shocked. The file mentioned she had facial injuries but seeing her was something else. Her left cheek was badly damaged, with fractures around both eyes, a broken nose, and missing teeth.

On top of that, her jaw was broken in two places. The information I had claimed it was an accident, but that was nonsense. They even included an old picture of her before the injuries, but it wasn’t a clear shot. It seemed like the best they could find quickly. She used to be very attractive, but now she looked like someone had brutally attacked her.

“Dr. Mofe,” the man from the car spoke up. “You should find everything you need in the theatre already. If not, just ask, and we’ll make sure you have whatever you need. All we’re asking is for you to give it your…..” He paused, visibly emotional. “Just do your best.”

After getting ready for surgery, I gathered with the surgical team. There were two nurses, the anesthesiologist, and a neurologist who had just finished examining her and confirmed she had no brain damage. “The assault was aimed at causing severe facial damage while sparing her brain,” he explained. ” I’ve heard of your expertise; if anyone can help her, it’s you.”

The surgery took longer than expected, but with the assistance of the two nurses and top-notch equipment, I completed the surgery. Exhausted, I changed out of my surgical attire and slumped into a chair in the locker room. Soon after, the man from the Escalade came in.

“Dr. Mofe.” He spoke softly. “I hope all went well.”

“I’ve done all I can at this point.” I exhaled, shaking my head. “We won’t know for sure until she starts to heal. If any further work is needed, it should be minor.”

“I see.” He was seemingly annoyed.

“Listen,” I said sharply. “I apologize if you’re not entirely pleased, but that girl is lucky she still has a face. It might not be the original one, but she can go on living her life.”

“I apologize if I seem less than grateful.” He said. “This has been a very trying time for us.”

After a few more apologies, I was told that the funds had already been transferred to my bank account. They made it clear that I was to forget the entire ordeal. If they required my services again in the future, they would reach out. I didn’t need the lecture anyway, I still had no clue who these people were.

That night gradually slipped from my mind as time passed, leaving only the fat addition in my bank account as a reminder. I tried asking Dr. Craig once, but he didn’t respond. All he said was that people like “these” didn’t like questions. I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but it seemed pointless to pursue the matter further.

More than a year later, I was having a drink at a bar. It was quite busy that evening, a woman looking for a seat approached my table. I gestured towards the vacant chair and offered a friendly smile. She accepted and took a seat.

“Thank you.” She beamed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place so full.”

“Yeah.” I agreed. “Hard to relax when it’s this noisy, but their live band is second to none.”

We sat quietly, enjoying our drinks. Suddenly, a waitress accidentally dropped a bottle and glass from her tray. The noise caught the attention of the woman beside me, and that’s when I noticed it, a faint scar near her left ear, almost invisible.

Looking closer, I noticed several other scars, though they would likely fade completely in a few more months. Honestly, it wasn’t hard for me to spot them, considering I was the surgeon who worked on her face. She caught me staring.

“Sorry.” I sputtered.

Tears formed in her eyes. “You saw my… I’m so ugly.” She sobbed.

“That’s no way to talk about my best work.” I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “If you are who I think you are, we’ve met before. You don’t remember of course. I’m Dr. Mofe Oladapo.”

She sat puzzled, touching one of her scars and pondering what I said. “My dad didn’t tell me your name.”

“They didn’t tell me yours either.” I grinned. “Guess we’re even. Before this gets any more awkward, I had to sign an NDA that night. Am I even allowed to talk to you?”

“The NDA just said you couldn’t talk about me, talking TO me is completely different.” She laughed. “I’m sure my dad never thought we’d run into each other. I know who you are now, I want to thank you for what you did. Under the circumstances, I’m happy. I’m getting used to the ‘new’ me, but It’s been a struggle. I’m Namisa, by the way, Namisa Aliko-Baju.”

Yeeeee!!! my mind screamed. Namisa Aliko-Baju, the only daughter of one of the most feared men in the country, General Hameed Aliko-Baju. I am a dead man walking.

The story continues…

Written by Sixtie 9ine

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