I consulted a clergyman for prayers, he hypnotised and impregnated me twice! – 2

…Previous Part 

I was crazy. I knew it. But I couldn’t help myself. I was twitching and stuttering. I picked up my phone and called Usman that I wanted to see him. He told me he was busy. He hung up on me. I cried. I kept phoning him. After about twenty attempts, he finally picked up the call. I begged him to let me see him urgently. He grudgingly agreed. Some minutes later, he showed up in my house. “Usman, I’m ready now. I have agreed to marry you” I announced. He hugged me. I felt his d!-cck nuzzling my navel. I quickly stepped out of my panties. He made love to me on the settee. I begged him for more. He spent the whole day with me. We ate lunch and dinner before he left. I felt like seeing him every day. I missed him every moment. I was completely out of my senses.

Three months into the weird relationship, I got pregnant. He introduced me to his first wife. He also met my parents. He insisted that I should stay in my accommodation pending when he would be able to get me a bigger apartment. Two years later, I got pregnant again. Usman didn’t give me a penny throughout the first and the second pregnancies. All he did was to come, eat and have c3-x

with me. Yet I longed for him. Meanwhile, some of my friends who sensed that I was hypnotised stayed away from me, except Hafsat Subair, head of the HR department in my office.

Hafsat was worried about my loss of concentration in the office. As the company’s head of accounts, my role was too sensitive. Yet I was becoming flippant, resulting in serial book keeping blunders. Hafsat and I knew something was wrong but neither of us could really say what exactly. She took me to one elderly Islamic cleric for consultations and prayers.

The following morning, I regained my ruptured senses. It was as if I just woke up from a trance. Hafsat helped me with some recollection of events. Usman hypnotised and kept me in darkness for three years!

I rushed to his house! Hell was let loose. I screamed at him and tore his dress. In a jiffy, onlookers and neighbours gathered as I continued yelling. In the end, I was led out of the scene, back to my house.

Now, it has been six months since my recovery from Usman’s diabolical captivity. I don’t wish to set my eyes on the fraudster for the rest of my life. But he is the father of my two children, a boy, and a girl. I really can’t figure out a way out of this horrible conundrum..

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