Double Deception: A Gardener's Game

Chapter 1: The Scent of Seduction

I’m Tunde, a man carved from the rugged earth of Nigeria, now playing the lush fields of South Africa’s elite. My body, a temple of muscle and charm, has always been my greatest asset. Women fall at my feet, and I’ve never been shy about taking what I want. But this con, this bloody con, has me tangled in a web I never saw coming. I’m a gardener now, for Chief Adebayo, a sweaty, balding old man with a fortune so fat it could choke a lion. My plan was simple: flirt, tease, promise more, and run off with his cash. But, na wa o, things don go too far.

I’m in his sprawling estate in this gated community, pruning roses under the scorching sun, when I catch his beady eyes on me from the veranda. He’s got that hungry look again, the one that makes my skin crawl. I flash him a grin, all teeth and mischief, and bend over just enough to let the thong—yes, a bloody thong he makes me wear under my jeans—peek out. His breath hitches, and I know I’ve got him.

‘Tunde, my sweet flower,’ he calls, voice thick with lust, waddling over with a stench that could kill a goat. ‘You dey make my heart race, you know dat?’

I chuckle, wiping sweat from my brow, playing the part of his simpering little toy. ‘Chief, you too much o. I just dey do my work, but if I make you happy, then I happy too.’ I hate every word, but the stacks of rand he showers me with keep my tongue sweet.

He steps closer, his fat fingers brushing my arm, and I fight the urge to recoil. ‘Tonight, you come to my room, eh? I wan plant something deep in you, make you bloom.’ His breeding kink is as predictable as it is repulsive, but I’ve learned to lean into it.

‘Ah, Chief, you wan make me carry your seed, abi?’ I purr, forcing a sultry tone, my stomach churning. ‘I go be ready for you, wet and waiting.’ The lie burns, but I see the rand signs in his eyes, and I know I’ve got him hard already.

‘Good girl,’ he growls, treating me like some damsel, and I swallow the bile. I’m no girl, no submissive fool, but for the money, I play the part. Tonight, I’ll have to endure his panting, sweaty body on mine, his cock thrusting in missionary like he’s claiming territory, finishing inside with a load that makes me want to scrub my soul. I’ll fake the moans, the shudders, maybe even throw in some dirty talk about him breeding me, just to get him to cum faster. But sometimes, damn it, he hits that spot, and I hate myself for the real shiver that runs through me.

As he waddles back to the house, I straighten up, cursing under my breath. I’m a king, not some plaything, and yet here I am, plotting my escape while juggling this disgusting charade. But the money, oh, the money—it’s a siren call I can’t ignore. And tonight, after I wash off his stink, I’ll sneak out to the club, find a woman to remind me who I really am. Some fine thing with a dripping pussy, begging for my touch, my hard cock owning her until she’s sweating and screaming my name. That’s the real Tunde.

But for now, I’m stuck in this game, and as I glance at the mansion, I can’t shake the feeling that this con is about to get even messier. Little do I know, Chief’s son is on his way, and with him, a whole new kind of trouble.