My girlfriend slāps her husband. Not once

[AbuHossam]

Not twice. But always. I had never believed such a thing until I saw it with my own eyes.

It was a such a spectacular to see my fellow woman slap her husband. Waw. Not just in private but in my own presence.

My girlfriend slapped her husband today, and he didn't beat her but apologized because he was the person that slapped her first. After, he went inside and coo-ked for her—or us, because I ate the fried rice.

When her husband left, I said to my girlfriend, "How could you do such a thing, and he didn't beat you?"

She laughed. Then she said, "Men are nإthing. If you want, you can control them as you wish."

"If I slap my husband, he will kؤ«ll me," I said.

She laughed again. "He won't do anything."

"Really?" I asked.

"Yes. Have you ever slapped your husband?" She asked.

"Never. I have never done it. I have never thought about it," I said.

"Try it. Try it and you will see the beauty of bravery. He will be so afraid of you that he will even coo-k for you just like how my husband just did."

We stopped talking to continue our eating. But I was still thinking about what my girlfriend said. Could it really be true? If it really works I would be happy. My husband was a very tall man with muscular arms. He had never beaten me, but there is a kind of beauty, a strange ecstacy of having a man submit to you. It's fascinating.

So I made up my mind, and told my girlfriend that she should escort me home. After eating, we left.

When we reached our house, my husband was standing in our parlour. I stepped inside with my girlfriend, and my husband with a voice so deep it almost unnerved me, said, "Where are you coming from? I thought I told you to coo-k before leaving? What's all this nonsؤ“nse? Why are you acting up lately?"

He walked up to me, and held my arm, but I used my free arm to slap him. I saw shock in his eyes. Then the shock dؤ«ed out. It was then that I understood that my girlfriend was right. So I slapped him again on the same cheek. He looked at me, and smiled. Then I slapped him again. It was giving me so much joy that the man I have known all this years, the man I have always feared because of his masculinity, was just a soft man.

I slapped him again, and he smiled again, and released my arm. He went and held my girlfriend's arm, and led her out of the house. He came back and locked the door.

Now he went to the kitchen. I think he is going to prepare our dinner. Bravery is very good.

By Eze Kenechi