The Bosom Strangler

3

> All rights reserved. © 2021. Ishilove. Tessa stared at the salesman, wondering if she was being taken for a ride again. His shifty gaze, oily smile and seeking hands were sending all sorts of signals, none of them good. “Madam, try am. This na ukuntunku,” he boasted, exuberantly shoving the materials at her again. At this rate, he was going to poke her eye out with a bra hook. “Which one be ukuntunku?” “You no know ukuntunku? Madam I say try am. The breast must bow.” Tessa hesitated again, eyeing the brassieres indelicately clutched in his big paws. He grinned at her, his teeth large like enamel shovels and shoved the brassieres in into her hands. “Madam go test dem for the back of the shop. I want you to patronise me”, he insisted. He removed the one on his head and squeezed it in with the rest. Tessa looked sceptically at the back and decided what the heck? She couldn’t afford the ones she saw on Instagram, and the last vendor she chatted with had emphatically told her that the lowest price for ‘packing bra’ her size was fourteen thousand, five hundred naira. Heck no. there was no way she would fork out that amount of money on lingerie. As soon as the word ‘lingerie’ slid through her thoughts, she heard her cousin’s voice in her head, cackling maniacally like an old crone. Don’t deceive yourself, Tessa. Which lingerie are you buying in this bend down boutique? You are buying okrika brazzy. Yeye. Tessa gritted her teeth and made her way to the back to join other women testing varied assortments of bras, tights and boob tubes. She turned her back to the women and struggled out of her of blouse. She didn’t take her bra off but decided to wear the samples over them. “No no, aunty not like that!” exclaimed Nuratu, the salesman’s lively assistant. Despite her protests, Tessa suddenly found her breasts swinging free like massive pendulums on her chest. Nuratu’s slippery fingers had unhooked her bra faster than Akin’s fingers ever could. His lusty fumbling in the cool darkness of his vehicle had finally destroyed the only good bra she owned, and now, here she was in Aswani market on a hot Saturday afternoon struggling through the mass of unwashed bodies in search of that elusive cheap, packing bra. Stingy asshole, she thought sourly. The first one she tried on seemed to cover only her _nipples. The second one was a little better, but not by much. By the time she had gone through five, Tessa had begun to despair. Nuratu squeezed, moulded, and strained until her muscles bulged and sweat formed a brilliant sheen on her ‘Rihanna forehead’, but Tessa’s colossal bosoms defeated every brassiere that was presented before it. Finally, they were down to the last one: The Ukutunku. “Aunty let us try this one, e be like sey e go size you”, panted the ever optimistic Nuratu. “Nuratu I am tired, biko. Besides, your oga don wear am for head so how am I sure he never slack am? As soon as the words passed her lips, she immediately felt ridiculous. “Oya let’s try it.” To her dismay, The Ukutunku did not fit as well. Or so she thought. Nuratu thought otherwise. She gritted her teeth and took a fistful of Tessa’s sweating breasts, and stuffed it with determination into the hidden crevices that Tessa did not know existed in a bra. By the time Nuratu was done, most of her breasts were covered up. Tessa could barely breathe. “Aunty shebi I told you that it will size you” Nuratu declared proudly, wiping off a stream of sweat from her ‘bold’ forehead. “The secret is pushing the breast inside well and making sure space no dey anywhere. There is no how e no go pack you. And e no cost o. Na just 3,500.” “I hear you. Abeg where my bra, I don taya.”

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