Trapped for My Sugar Mummy’s Bed / Chapter 2: Wetin Hide for Her Guest Room?
Trapped for My Sugar Mummy’s Bed

Trapped for My Sugar Mummy’s Bed

Author: Kayla Kelly


Chapter 2: Wetin Hide for Her Guest Room?

That time, she look me with playful eye, small fear but more excitement dey show. E clear say she dey pray make I stay.

She just dey chew her lip, dey look my face like person wey dey try confirm if market go sell. For her eye, na small pikin dem dey send for errand, but na me be the errand this time.

As I expect, she finally talk, waka come my side, say, “E be like say you no fit go house tonight o. Why you no just stay?”

Her voice get one kain soft drawl—na that voice wey dey make person forget wetin e wan talk. As she talk am, I just dey reason how my night go be.

As she talk am, my mind sweet me die, but I hide am. I just reply her, do like say I shy small, say e fit no too proper.

I rub my neck, pretend say I dey think, but for my heart, na parade dey go on. I just dey pray make she insist.

She swallow, come say, “No wahala, guest room dey empty. Abeg relax, stay. If I allow you waka for this kind weather, my mind no go rest. If wahala catch you for road nko?”

She say am like real mother, but I know say e get another meaning. For Lagos, na so dem dey run things—polite but sharp. Even her eyes dey shine like say she dey pray make thunder no stop.

I no waste time again, just form like say I slow to understand, then nod.

I try form humility, dey do like say I dey reason am, but before two seconds, I don dey move bag inside guest room.

As she see say I gree, happiness show for her face.

Her smile wide, you for think say she just win lotto. She quickly wipe face, act like say she dey calm, but excitement dey her steps.

She lead me go guest room. Even though dem dey call am guest room, e big well-well—pass my tight hostel for school. The bed sef get better bounce.

Her bedsheet dey smell like lavender and small powder—those nice housewife kind. Na for here I know say she get taste.

As I settle, she limp comot with smile.

She turn back look me one more time before she close door. I just dey smile, dey imagine wetin fit happen for night.

I know say better gist go soon show. True true, few minutes later, she message me for WhatsApp, ask if I don sleep.

Her WhatsApp DP na throwback photo—her for wrestling ring, full regalia. I just dey wonder how woman fit fine and strong join.

I reply say I never sleep—the new bed dey make sleep hard.

My hand dey shake small as I type, but I dey form big boy. I put small laughing emoji, make am look casual.

She say she just put her daughter to bed, say hunger dey catch am, ask if I wan chop small food.

She yarn say she fit warm soup—maybe egusi and small semo—make I no shy. Na so hunger begin bite me true-true.

I just dey smile, sharp-sharp I gree, say I dey hungry too, add small respect, “Thank you, Mama Zino.”

I add that my humble tone wey dey make women feel important. Even though I dey form sharp guy, I dey respect her as elder small.

Her daughter name na Zino, so na so I dey call her.

For our area, once pikin name dey carry reach mama own, e mean say dem get plenty respect. Na sign say you dey part of family circle.

But this time, she send angry emoji quick, come talk make I no call her Mama Zino again—say e dey make her old. From today, make I dey call her ‘aunty’. Say e dey sweet pass.

She add, "Na only my small neighbours dey call me that one. You—na aunty you go dey call."

My mind fly. E sure me say tonight, na she even rush pass me.

My belle do backflip. Na so I know say fire dey ground, because once woman dey insist say you call her aunty, na code.

I reply, “Okay, aunty.”

I put small blushing emoji join.

I use chance praise her, say she too young and fine—who go call her old? For my eye, she fine pass anybody.

I just dey run small mouth—"Aunty, you dey shine pass all these small girls. Na you dey make person fear to go school sef."

She pause small. Maybe she never hear this kind sweet talk from man before—e be like say e dey new to her.

Na only the sound of the rain dey fill the gap for chat. For my mind, I dey pray make she reply fast.

After like half minute, she reply say I sabi talk, say she no notice am before. She come ask if na so I dey talk to girls for school.

She add, "So na so you dey bobo all those your classmates?"

I quick reply say na truth I dey talk, say she really fine, any man wey get her na correct person. If I fit marry woman like her, my life don better be that.

I add small swear, "No be bobo, aunty. Na from my heart. If I fit see woman like you marry, ah, I go dey thank God every Sunday."

She say, “Abeg, stop that. Na lame woman I be—nobody want me.”

Her words get pain inside, but she still dey try form hard woman. For Nigeria, once woman pass thirty never remarry, people dey always carry am for head.

I fire back, “Aunty, abeg no dey talk say you lame. That small wahala no dey hide your beauty at all. You too fine, just believe yourself.”

I even drop, "E get as God take create you—special." I add praise wey go make her smile reach for chest.

She no reply, but I fit hear her soft, sweet laugh from outside.

I just dey imagine her for kitchen, maybe she dey cover her mouth so daughter no wake. Na that small laugh wey dey come from deep inside.

I no talk again, just dey wait make I see wetin go happen next.

I lie for bed, dey count rain drop, dey wonder if na today my story go change.

You may also like

Sugar Mama for Hire: Lagos Hustle Love
Sugar Mama for Hire: Lagos Hustle Love
4.7
I dey sponsor Seyi, a broke campus boy, but my thirty thousand naira and love gifts no fit buy his loyalty—he dey run me street for another girl with rich taste. When fine boy Musa show, ready to do anything for connection, I begin ask myself: for this Lagos, who dey use who? In this city where everybody dey hustle, na survival or na heartbreak go be my own portion?
Married to Abuja’s Untouchable Billionaire
Married to Abuja’s Untouchable Billionaire
4.8
Six months as the stand-in wife to Abuja’s most eligible man, yet Musa treats me colder than harmattan breeze. My heart dey break as I discover his secret addiction and the true reason he married me instead of my runaway sister. Tonight, I’m done enduring—either I unlock his darkest desires or I walk away, even if it means scandal for my family.
My Best Friend’s Wife Slept In My Bed
My Best Friend’s Wife Slept In My Bed
4.7
When Musa lands in police cell for embezzlement, his beautiful wife Ifeoma shows up at my door, desperate for help and shelter. One mistake, one sleepless night, and suddenly the secret between us threatens to destroy everything—even as I risk my own heart and loyalty. If Musa ever finds out what really happened that night, will any of us survive the fallout?
Forced to Lick Her Shoes for Love
Forced to Lick Her Shoes for Love
4.8
Transmigrated as the stand-in husband for a ruthless female CEO, Shola must play the obedient fool—cleaning, begging, and enduring daily humiliation, all for a system’s cruel tasks. With her true love back from abroad, he’s one signature away from freedom and a fat payout, but the system threatens him with electric shocks and a fate worse than disgrace. In Lagos, will survival and street sense win over heartbreak, or will suffering be his only inheritance?
Forced to Serve the Border Commander
Forced to Serve the Border Commander
4.8
Disguised as a man to save her people, Princess Ada is exposed and humiliated by ruthless Commander Musa Danladi, who drags her into the brutal life of the border army. Trapped between royal pride and survival, she must outwit the man who shames her by day—and haunts her thoughts by night. But in this deadly war camp, trust is poison, and Musa’s next move could destroy her crown… or her heart.
She Used Me For Sugar Daddy
She Used Me For Sugar Daddy
4.9
When hunger and betrayal force Emeka across the border into Benin Republic, he’s thrown into a world of hustlers, heartbreak, and deadly secrets. Chasing survival, he faces life-or-death choices—until love and deception collide in the casino underworld. With his dignity and future on the line, Emeka must decide: play by the rules, or rewrite them for himself.
Half-Bed Wife, Full Wahala
Half-Bed Wife, Full Wahala
4.9
Halima, sold as a 'half-bed wife' into the powerful Okoye family, fights for dignity and survival in a house where her body is owned but her heart is forbidden. Every secret, every kindness, and every slap threatens to expose her true self and shatter her last hope for freedom. If her secret is revealed, she risks losing everything—even her life.
My Crush’s Soul Lives in My Sleep Doll
My Crush’s Soul Lives in My Sleep Doll
4.7
Kamsi can’t sleep without hugging her giant cat doll, but one night, her cold, untouchable campus crush starts speaking to her—through the doll. As she secretly hears Musa Ifedolapo’s most hidden thoughts, she’s swept into a dangerous game of love, jealousy, and family pressure. When a rival claims Musa as her fiancé, Kamsi must decide: will she fight for the boy whose soul shares her bed, or let heartbreak win in a world where secrets don’t stay hidden for long?
I Escaped the Serial Killer’s Bed
I Escaped the Serial Killer’s Bed
4.8
Halima thought Musa’s fine face meant safety, but behind closed doors, he was a monster—rapist, killer, collector of corpses. Trapped in a pit of rotting bodies, Halima clawed her way out, desperate to survive and see her son again. In a country where beauty hides evil, her confession could shake Nigeria to its roots.
Trapped in the Hostel: The Dead Girl’s Game
Trapped in the Hostel: The Dead Girl’s Game
4.7
On New Year’s Eve, Aunty Temi’s class party turns to terror when the ghost of Halima Musa—who died just days ago—locks everyone inside and starts a deadly game through the class WhatsApp group. One by one, students must obey twisted rules or face gruesome punishment, as secrets, betrayals, and hidden grudges come to light. With every chop money notification, the line between friend and enemy blurs—who will survive Halima’s revenge from the grave?
Burning Her Youth for One Million Naira
Burning Her Youth for One Million Naira
4.8
Desperate for a better life, I agreed to burn real naira for a mysterious old woman, but each note I sacrificed drained my youth and fed hers. Trapped and betrayed, I realized too late that the ritual was a deadly exchange—my years for her beauty, my soul for her greed. Now, with death at my door and my only hope a childhood sticker, I must outwit a spirit that preys on hunger and dreams.
My Oga’s Secret Maid Lover
My Oga’s Secret Maid Lover
4.9
Ife's life turns upside down when hunger forces her father to sell her for four wraps of moi-moi. Thrown into a world where survival means serving as a maid in Chief Olatunde’s mansion, she faces betrayal, rivalry, and the forbidden hope of becoming the young master’s concubine. With her future—and dignity—at stake, Ife must choose: play by the rules or risk everything for a better life.