September 27, 2022

Short Story: The Lagos Corper & Her Students [Part 1](18+)

Home » Short Story: The Lagos Corper & Her Students [Part 1](18+)

Short Story: The Lagos Corper & Her Students [Part 1](18+)

Hello everyone,

Once again, a big shout-out to everyone who came through on Saturday night, thank you very much for showing up. Those who donated too, I appreciate your kind gestures towards the event. I’m so delighted to have met a lot of you one on one. It was the highlight of my year so far. Thank you once again. We will do it again soon. Hopefully!

You should read the article about it too, brilliant one. Its the story before this one.

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As I walked away from his desk, I felt it, it was swift and firm.

Did this stupid boy just spank my ass? I loved his audacity, it was what I’d been looking for but, I am his teacher. What kind of boldness would make a secondary school boy in SS2 class spank his teacher’s ass?

That was what my brain was trying to process when it happened. This stupid boy was breathing down on my neck. Why was he? How did he? When did he get so close to me? My brain was all over the place trying to figure out what was happening but my body was there, motionless.

He was dry humping me from behind and one look at my face would tell you I was greatly turned on by it.

We cannot always get what we want in life. I didn’t get mine when I was posted to Ogun State for my NYSC program. It was quite annoying for me as all of my friends were transferred to the northern states and I was the only one in the southwest.

I didn’t know anybody there nor did I speak or understand their language. I wasn’t looking forward to my stay there. An Igbo girl in a Yoruba state, as if that’s not going to be a disaster. The worst feeling I had was the fact that I might be celibate for the whole year.

Now, that’s a major headache. Would I be able to find the kind of guys I like in camp?

There have always been stories of immoralities in camps where corpers, even the married ones, engage themselves in many forms of debauchery. Now, that was something I was looking forward to but there was a little bit of an issue with me.

Rita doesn’t make a move on men, Rita doesn’t readily say yes to men’s advances, and Rita only wants a man that is bold enough to take her. The men where I come from don’t ask for permission as long as both of you are in a cordial relationship, they just tell you what they want and proceed to take it.

It is also in the woman’s place to be submissive and serve them when they make this move.

Yeah, I am educated and should learn to do things in more civilized ways but, some things just are how they are and can’t be changed. I am single but I only lay on my back for a man that was bold enough to make me.

The first three weeks of orientation had nothing on me. I was strong enough and the tasks were light work for me, unlike my female colleagues that would sleep in at times and whine all through if they came to parade.

It didn’t take long for me to settle in, I found some Igbo people like me and made friends with lots of people. It was easy as we all spoke English. Everybody was accommodating and tolerant of one another trying to make friends and connections. I have to say, it went better than I expected.

The debauchery in camps? It didn’t take long for me to witness some and hear of many more. Sometimes, someone might be missing from the hostel late at night only to surface in the morning.

People appear and disappear at intervals and rumours will follow later. The one I witnessed was of a married woman whom I shared a bunk with. She claimed to be too tired to get off the top bunk for the parade that morning so I left without her.

A few minutes into the parade, I remember I left the bag unlocked with the key and lock on the bed. I had too many valuables in that bag that I couldn’t risk waiting till the parade was over.

After carefully looking around and making the locations of the soldiers, I snuck off and dashed to my hostel. I don’t think anybody saw me because I didn’t hear anyone ask me to stop or anything. I just burst into the room without knocking, was there any reason to?

The sight in front of me amazed me. One of the soldiers was there fucking this woman that told me she couldn’t get off her bed because she was tired. She was on the floor holding on to my bed as he smashed her from behind.

At first, I thought they didn’t hear me come in but when I got close to them I realized they did but just didn’t care.

Locking up my bag was the highest priority and it was right there besides these people having wanton sex. Since they didn’t acknowledge my presence, I decided not to acknowledge theirs too. I saw two things that shocked me, the woman had her wedding ring on also, and she was getting fucked in her asshole and not her pussy as I had assumed.

I stood there, mouth opened from what I observed. I must have stared for too long as the soldier yelled to ask what I was looking at. I quickly locked my bag and left them alone.

All through these, the woman was bent over looking at me with half-closed eyes collecting thick, aboki, soldier prick.

The scene got me very wet and I wished to have a taste of that soldier’s penis but I wasn’t approached by him. I was still at the door when they finished. I fingered myself to my bunkmate’s moans. I quickly stopped when I heard the door open.

The soldier guy just passed me buckling his belt as he walked on. He was a cute one. My bunkmate slept late into the evening and I understood why. She later tried to explain that the body can’t be cheated on and she needed the sex, she also used her ass so she wouldn’t be cheating on her husband.

I was amused by what she said but deep down, it wasn’t my business and I was not a kid so, I don’t even bother myself over it.

Days later, this same soldier guy approached me and Immediately I told him off, he backed down and never approached me again. Poor thing, I would have made him my friend if he had put more pressure and I would have allowed him to have his way with me if he had ordered it as a friend.
But, he didn’t, all the guys, even the ones I made friends with, always backed down. It made me lonely and sex starved but, some rules are cast in stone.

I buried the thoughts of engaging in any sexual encounter in that camp, I already prepared myself for a year of celibacy so, I had no issues with it.

The nightmare of my service started when I was posted to a secondary school to teach English and Literature in English. I had no problem teaching but why saddle me with two subjects? As if that was not enough, most of the students could not even speak standard English.

Now, how do I teach these students that expect me to teach English using Yoruba language Literature in English? Even their Principal spoke more Yoruba than he did English even though he spoke good English.

Teaching them was one nightmare on its own but marking their assignment and tests, that’s a horror flick. I could barely make sense of what some of these students wrote.

It didn’t take long for me to realize that half of the population of the class I teach were razz miscreants who had no little interest in the study.

I did my best for those that were ready to learn and with my beautiful smile, more of them warmed up to me. After two weeks of hell, a cordial relationship formed between me, and most of the class. I was happy to help those that reached out to me.

I settled into the environment and my beauty as a fair girl seemed to magnet males in the school environment. The only problem is that they don’t press hard enough and as my beauty attracted them to me, my personality repelled them.

The males I attracted were not just the ones older than me but also my students. I could always hear their low whistles and murmurs when I walked around the class explaining a particular topic.

None of them however had the balls to come to tell me what they felt. At least that was what I thought. I had two nemeses in that class, one boy they called Rashidi and a girl named Iyanu. These two I thought are what we can call a couple when it comes to being dumb.

Written by Reezy Sama

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Dr. Deolu Oniranu-Bubble

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