The Tattooed Prostitute

The Tattooed Prostitute


In the state known as the TREASURE BASE OF THE NATION and in the heart of the GARDEN CITY where the capital of the state is located. It is well known now that the SLOGAN GARDEN City is just a facade of what really lies beneath. There is enough squalor and poverty behind the city’s glistening facade.

In the shuns where I grew up, I know there was another world outside which I would be very much love to be a part of beneath the GARDEN CITY is another city known as the GROOVE CITY.

In broad-day light you see men and women working tirelessly for their minimum wage; then at night they spend it all at Hot Spots uniquely located in the state from joints to dancing bar and clubs which don’t close till the last person leaves at dawn.

Recently I was involved in a menial job where I met other graduates like myself. It was disturbing but I had no choice because I needed the pay desperately. One afternoon we went to lunch at a local restaurant or canteen where the food sells for less. We ate happily and talked about the security challenges in the country. The argument was beginning to heat up when UDO said “Please let’s not start what we will not finish; leave BOKOHARAM to the government and let’s discuss about better things that will affect us directly and instantly”, the place was quiet for a while when UDO broken the silence again, Have you heard about the joint that was newly opened in Trans-Amadi? Everyone exchanged gazes and said; which one? THE WISHERS” he said, una dey miss. How different is it from other ones scattered all around town (Christian asked). Just go and see for yourself. It is a high class joint for the low income class (he emphasized).

About two weeks later when the gangs assemble under a mango tree to collect their pay. “I checked out that joint, its Da bomb” Christian said. “I told you” UDO replied. Suddenly everybody had something to say about it except me. I was surprised that they all took UDO’s statement and visited the joint in the space of two weeks. The discussion heated up and immediately a circle was formed with me outside it because I had no experience or contribution to what was at hand. I felt embarrassed.

Despite the shamefulness; I stood around and listened to their talks with keen interest. They laughed often at sometimes stole glances at my dejected face. I then wondered if I would love to be in their midst and I knew the only way to do it was to visit that joint.

Of all their discussions; something caught my interest “the tattooed girl”. Every one of them spoke of her in different ways; from her shape to the tattooed labeled breast and waist. Her height was just as that of a model and her complexion like that of mammy water. With this little information I gathered that this incredible joint is a brothel.

Finally, I told them I was going to the admin to see what was delaying our pay. Some nodded and the others only looked at me sharply to show that I was excused.

I walked down the blocks with my hands behind my backs counting my steps. Then it hit me that I did not really want to go to the admin; I only wanted to leave their midst because of shame. I never thought it important to visit such a place. Bit I saw that the environment I was needed blending.

That night, I went home with my pocket filled with my pay money. We were trapped in a heavy traffic jam; our driver being impatient looked for a way out of the line and made a U-turn. The bus was silent because we all wanted to get home on time. The driver passed streets as he knows the nooks and cranny of the town.

We got to a street where the lightening was different and I wondered where this could be. The lights led to a building at the beginning of an adjacent street. Then I saw my Nemesis “The Wishers” Immediately there was a blood rush in my system and I was covered with goose pimples. The lady beside me looked at me and said “are you alright? I shrugged and said it’s just cold. Then she helped close the windows and said sorry. I told her thank you and put my head down.

I got home and all I could think of was the WISHERS. I read the bible just to deviate my thoughts. It worked for a while and it came back pouring like water gushing from a dam. That night was not easy for me, so was the week because I was still not blending on their level. I then decided that I will visit the place just once and see what it looks like.

After work on Friday, I did not leave with the gang. I stayed back because I had an agenda. I left the office at about 7:30 pm that evening with a contemplating mind of whether or not to go. Finally, I hailed a cab and said WISHERS. The driver smiled said “Hop in” I sat down in the front with him and brought out a novel to read through the journey. But he won’t stop looking at me. I closed the book and asked him why he was starring. He said “Oga no vex, I just dey surprised say young man like you dey go that kind place” What do you mean? I asked him. Turning the steering right; with my eyes fixed on his jittery lips waiting his reply “I am sorry” were his next words.

His words angered me, in a high toned voice I said “NO NO NO, you must tell me what you really meant. Talk to me freely, I really want to know why you feel that way about me. Speak freely abeg. He smiled and started, “You look young and educated probably a university graduate, you should have a girl friend or maybe fiancée” my face lit up with as smile as he thought highly of me. “You wan tell me say you get girl friend”. I smiled and replied, well I have, but I just want to go and check out the joint; I have heard so many things about the joint. If you don’t mind you can have a bottle of drink with me. Oga I dey road he replied. When I got off the taxi I gave him an extra N500 just to show appreciation.

I walked down the stairs leading into the joint; I saw countless unknown faces. Some were playing snooker others dancing to the tempo of the beat. I hit my left foot against a table and almost stumbled. Then I said to myself why all this fidgeting. I took a deep breath and walk towards an empty table and set down. I called out a waiter who came and took my order. Please give me a GUINESS EXTRA SMOOTH. Ok sir, he hurriedly went away. I was looking around when I gasped at the sight of a girl stark naked. No wonder people talked highly of this place (I thought) I sipped from my glass gently and looked around in search of the tattooed prostituted.

I was on my third bottle when one of the naked girls approached me and said rubbing dick Bros why you dey alone na?

Come make I make you happy”. I look at her and what was left of her dignity; Her face painted with enough makeovers, her coin sized nipples, obtruding tummy and her bushy public hairs. I nodded and told her I was not interested.

She left with a stern face.

I called out to the waiter and asked him please how can I locate that girl that has tattoo? He smiled and said, just go down this hall the third room on the right is hers. I paid him for his drink and told him thank you. Minutes later I stood up and walked down the hall as if I was a regular. Other people were coming and going as if they were in their houses.

I knocked on the door and she answered “I never finis” she called out and asked what number are you? I was stunned. I was still at the door when another guy came and said, am the next. Then he asked me “guy wetin be your number? I said I don’t have a number. He laughed and said better go that corner go register. He pointed towards another hallway. I walked down and saw people clustering around a table waiting to collect numbers. I turned around to go back when I met a guy who offered me a card with No. 27 on it and asked for refund because he just received a call that his wife just went into labour. I collected it in exchange for a thousand naira. If this could be No 27 then those people fighting for numbers would have a long way to go.

I waited for another hour before No.26 was called. All of a sudden I started sweating profanely as if I went in for HIV test. I stood up to go when I heard No 27, as soon as I entered a voice called and said Please bolt the door and take off your clothes then step in. I did as instructed and walked in slowly with my dick in my hand as firm and strong as a poking rod.

When the light came on my dick shimmed at the sight of the tattooed one. Her description from the members of the gang was not out of place. It was just as they described.

Lo and Behold the tattooed prostitute was our choir-mistress in the church where I am the band boy.

I turned to leave but she said sobbing “Please don’t go come back”. I hurried to put on my clothes but she chased after me and was begging me on bended knees. I put on my clothes and turned to her and said. You will never hear of this. I left with heightened anger and disappointment.

For the first time I wanted to try something bad. But instead it turned worst.




6 thoughts on “The Tattooed Prostitute” by bishop (@bishopandy)

  1. @bishopandy,

    The story was interesting. I liked the suspense you built towards the end, as you showed the countdown towards number 27, and you made me wonder about the mystery of this tattooed prostitute.

    However, there were many errors that I found in the story that you need to work on, like:

    “About two weeks later when the gangs assemble under a mango tree to collect their pay. “I checked out that joint, its Da bomb” Christian said.” > “About two weeks later, the gang assembled under a mango tree to collect their pay. “I checked out that joint, its da bomb” Christian said.”

    “Despite the shamefulness” > “Despite my shame/embarrassment” (by the way, you didn’t make it clear that ‘The Wishers’ was a place where people went for sex; this would have explained why the MC was ashamed.)

    “in a high toned voice” > “in a high pitched voice”

    “All of a sudden I started sweating profanely” > ” All of a sudden I started sweating profusely

    Also, no need to capitalise the names of the people or the establishment (like UDO, THE WISHERS”).

    Keep writing.

    1. @tolaO thanks fo all ur corrections

  2. I like the revelation best. Choir mistress o…lol.
    Keep writing and getting better. Well done. $ß.

    1. @sibbylwhyte, i will only get better if there is enough criticism. thanks all the same

  3. lol that was funny, his choirmaster

  4. lol…very funny. the sins people hide under the religious cloak.
    nice story, the narrative could be better, watch out for typos, wrong use of words and tenses.
    well done.

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