Stirling Surrender
"Castle tour guide Chiamaka recounts tales of Scottish warriors—but the thick Malawian history professor who joins her tour wages a campaign of seduction that would make Wallace proud."
Professor Tamanda knew more than she let on.
She asked leading questions. Challenged interpretations. Made Chiamaka work.
"You're not here to learn," Chiamaka realized after the third tour.
"I'm here for you." That thick body moved closer. "Is that so terrible?"
"It's unconventional."
"So was William Wallace."
The castle after hours was their battlefield.
No tourists. Just ancient stones and growing desire.
"I've been planning this campaign for weeks," Tamanda admitted.
"Campaign?"
"Strategic visits. Intelligence gathering. Now the siege."
"Am I the castle?"
"You're the prize."
Against walls that had seen centuries of conquest, they created their own.
Tamanda's academic precision applied to pleasure—methodical, thorough, devastating.
"I surrender," Chiamaka gasped.
"Too easy. I want unconditional."
"Anything. Everything."
Stirling's visitors noted the new depth in their guide's presentations.
They didn't know her inspiration.
"History is about passion," Chiamaka would say.
She'd found someone who understood both.
"Best research subject I've ever studied," Tamanda said.
Chiamaka couldn't disagree.