Addicted to The Feeling

She asked for more. Adele couldn’t get enough. Was Bayo’s soft lips that were running kisses down the sides of her neck that she needed more, or her other drug which she stared at with anticipation?

Giggling, she lightly pushed Bayo off her body.  Bayo wanted to resist, but the look in his lovers eyes promised later pleasures.

Adele carefully drew the piece of paper that laid on the bed cabinet closer to her nose. In a slow manner, she sniffed the white powdery substance on the piece of paper deep into her lungs. She was on fire. The excitement in her guts exploded into many pieces. She rapidly pounded her right hand in satisfaction on the wooden bed cabinet as the substance spread through all her before tense nerves.

The cocaine stimulated her brain in ways only she could explain. She felt superior now; a false illusion of herself. No, she wasn’t addicted to the white substance, It was the feeling it brought that made it impossible for her to stop. She sniffed more and more into her system. Slowly, swiftly, all her worries began to fade away.

Adele was now in a world she has always wanted to be in. A world of peace. A world where she was the freaking queen! With all grace, as if the crowns of a thousand queens were placed on her head, she jumped out of the bed, laughing hectically. She began to dance naked, swaying her body in any direction to the rhythm only her heart played.  She leaped from the roof above her head like a swan, and like a bird, she was ready to fly.

Bayo had to stop her. He still needed her tonight. He swore he would do anything to keep Adele smiling, just the way she was now.

With her middle finger, she playfully teased him to come over. Bayo got up from the bed abruptly. He had her pined against his bedroom door in no time. His heavy hot breath against her neck made the hair on her skin stand. They remained quiet for a moment, listening to their heavy breathing.

“Do it.” She requested with persuasion, breaking the silence.

“When? Just say the words and I will.”


Two days later, Adele carefully tip-toed into her living room without making a sound. Not even a squeak. How she managed to get herself into her house unnoticed proved she was getting better at her game of hide and seek.

Just when she thought she could finally let out a deep breath of relief, she heard him begin to clap. Fear immediately engraved her. Eyes bewildered, it was as if time stood frozen for a hot minute. Her feet stock onto the floor underneath her like glue. She couldn’t take the next step forward which would take her further into her room and into hiding.

“Don’t you dare move a muscle.” He commanded with power. Adele jumped anxiously. He began descending down from the stair case.

She let out a witty laugh as she turned to face him. She had two options in mind. It was either she flew out the door as fast as she could, or she stands her ground with a man she had no power against.

“Honey,” she said, pausing to swallow the saliva that had been building up as her husband came forward.

“I didn’t know you were home.” She said nervously. She was doing it again, she was making him see her as powerless; a feeling she had promised to never let in again. She guessed it was the night’s cocaine she’d made that promise to.

“How would you know?” Her husband asked as he began backing her up against a nearby couch. “How would you know!” Mr. Adisa yelled.

Shrieking in fear, Adele quickly braced herself for what she knew was coming next. He would hit her, she knew it. He would raise those filthy hands of his and hit her. Mr. Adisa had no business in changing Adele’s expectation, he raised his hand and slapped her with all force.

Adele staggered backwards. With her palms on the left side of her face, she looked up at him and she smiled.

As if a different something had rushed into her, she began to laugh. Jittery feeling in her stomach; she could burst with excitement.

“I’m so sorry husband, I should have been home.” Adele said. She couldn’t control what she was feeling. It had no name. All she knew was that the pain her husband had inflicted on her when he slapped her had flipped on a switch in her head. Her husband’s intimidating glare made her laughter come alive even more. Is this madness? she thought to herself.

“I’m sorry, I should have been home to prepare you breakfast.” She continued, moving closer to him, with her palms jammed together in an apologetic symbol. He could see tiny drops of blood flowing down her cheeks. He checked his left hand and realized his wedding ring was embedded in the fingers he’d used in hitting his wife. His attention immediately went back to Adele.

“I’m sorry, I should have been home last night to fuck you.” She dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me… Please forgive me.” She chanted. “We could do it now, right here if you prefer.”  Instantly, she began unbuttoning her blouse. She had to convince him.

Mr. Adisa couldn’t explain what was going on. Was Adele mocking him or had she finally learned her lesson?

“Which style would you prefer this time?” she asked, still focused on unbuttoning her blouse. “Should we do the one where you have me pined against the wall, or no, how about your favorite, the one where you have me tied up like a fucking prisoner!” She screamed.

“How dare you!” Mr. Adisa barked. He was horrified by Adele’s sudden behavior. For all he knew, she could be under the influence of something.

“How dare you!” He shouted again. “Answer me!” Adele’s lips shook as she tried to find an answer. Mr. Adisa began to unbuckle the belt he used in keeping his trouser in place.

He released the belt fully and said, “Now, you will tell me who has been feeding you with such audacity to speak to me in such manner.” Without warning, he grabbed Adele by her long hair. He dragged her roughly up the stairs to their bedroom.

Adele had nothing to fear. What could he possibly do that he hadn’t already done before? Yes, she had married him for his money. He had also helped pay for her father’s funeral. He helped her mother start up a business.  It was because of him that her siblings where able to attend school. Adele had sold her innocence to him when she was just twenty-two, so what was it that he would possibly ask of her that she would refuse of him? He was her savior. But what Mr. Adisa didn’t know what that Adele has found a way, a new way to make it out alive.

She felt no pain as he plunged himself between her thighs over and over again, she lost count. In fact, she took pleasure in it. It might as well be the last time she gives herself to him again.

“Bayo…” She whispered as tears clouded her eyes.  She smiled as she recalled his words like a flutter in her chest. He had asked her when? When did she want him to finally do it? When did she want him to finally put her out of her misery? He’d said all she needed to do was say the word, but when would Adele get tired of paying for her debts? When?

13 thoughts on “Addicted to The Feeling” by Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

  1. Harry Enomamien (@Silvadereal)

    Wow! Speechless.

    Beautiful story.

    1. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

      Awww thanks @silvadereal

  2. Ufuoma!! Welldone. Better go write script for films. This is nice. Although I thought Adele sounded too western for a Mr. Adisa. You
    write well….

    1. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

      hehehehe I know, I know, the name is western but I would name my daughter Adele though. But I only used that because at that moment when the idea of this story first hit me, Adele was the only name that flowed with my imaginations.

      Lol shey we should go and be writing scripts for Nollywood… thanks for reading @samenyuch its been long right?

  3. Richly written tale @ufuomaotebele

    However, the way it ended wasn’t very clear to me…in what way was Bayo going to put her out of her misery? Kill her or kill her husband?

    Also just a few notes on some errors you made:

    ‘Her feet stock onto the floor underneath her like glue. ‘ — First of all you said ‘Stock’ instead of ‘Stuck’, then secondly the way you put the sentence sort of reads awkwardly. You could have simply said —
    ‘Her feet remained glued to the floor’

    Mr. Adisa — I was wondering if there was a reason you included ‘Mr’ in his name. It didn’t read like he was her hubby. Since you’ve been writing everybody with just names and no gender titles, why not stay consistent with it throughout? Or is there a reason why you put it there?

    ‘He checked his left hand and realized his wedding ring was embedded in the fingers he’d used in hitting his wife’ — When you say ’embedded’ did you mean to tell us that the ring had been buried into his own hand with the impact of the slap or you were just establishing that he was wearing a wedding ring? Because it sounded like the former.

    1. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

      Yaaaaaaaay!! I’ve never been this happy to read a comment.

      Hey when I was writing this story, in that moment I knew where I was heading. I wanted to make it a western story so I started it out with the name Adele. Suddenly suddenly, I’m in naija.

      The case of Mr Adisa @afronuts it was clicking fine in my head o lol but now I see it sounded too formal like you said.

      I’ll fix the errors, I always say that buy I’ll keep trying.

      Thanks for reading!!

      1. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

        And oh, I should have made the ending clearer.

        Bayo was suppose to help delete Mr Adisa out of adele’s life..

        I just couldn’t bring myself to say the very words Bayo asked Adele to say. “Kill Him”

  4. Nice story, but you didn’t edit as meticulously as you usually do. I found a couple of mistakes. Lovely story all the same.

    1. Ufuoma Otebele (@ufuomaotebele)

      I can assure you that those were last minute changes that I over looked by not going back to reread the full story… I’ll a better eye out.

      Thanks for reading.

  5. Drug addict adultery, fornication, murder intentions, domestic abuse woah.
    Its a tyt @ufuomaotebele and it was nice reading it, I don’t mind o, Bayo should help her, they might end up helping each other in that way too with the drug sniffing.
    I’m glad you’ve started writing again, you and I know why, you’re afraid of the protest, ;-) .

  6. I’ve been kind of missing. This is an amazing piece of fiction, though not without some errors as @Afronuts has rightly highlighted.

    It’s still an excellent story though.

  7. Folakemi Emem-Akpan (@Folakemi)

    Okay, enjoyed this. Immediately I read Mr. Adisa and then read it again, I was of the opinion that he was a character you didn’t want us the readers to like or get emotionally attached to. That’s a trick I learnt some years back. Call a character by his formal name enough times and the reader will not develop any sympathy for him.
    Felt sorry for Adele though. She is exchanging one hell for another type of hell.
    You used the word pined instead of pinned. Pinned is the past tense of pinning someone down while pined is the past tense of longing for something.
    Cheers. And happy to see that your post

  8. Nduka Ekeh (@NdukAfro)

    Aside some spotted typos here and there, I think this is a remarkable read.

    Bringing to bare the vulnerability of femininity as exploited by a misogynistic society.

    Though I observed from the story that Adele had her own room (“she couldn’t take the next step forward which would take her further into ‘her room’ and into hiding.”) which got me puzzled at the latter part of the story where “He [Mr. Adisa] dragged her roughly up the stairs to ‘their bedroom.'”

    Interesting piece.

    Keep on writing.

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