“I’ll be waiting for you in the other room”.
I heard his distant yet clear voice and I immediately grew pale. The stories of the other room I heard differed from the one I experienced. I heard the other room is full of ecstasy, full of emotions, full of love and full of life. I heard it brings with it pleasant memories and I was so eager to be in the other room. “It would get rid of all your inhibitions” he had promised. My libido was rocket high in that instant and I was thinking with it and with not my head
Finally I did, and to make it more special, I chose my house to bore my womanhood as I imagined all these beautiful things happening to me. I smiled in sheer excitement and I cleaned the room for that special day, filling it with flowers and subtle music. Do I have regrets? That is mine to answer
That was a long time ago
I spent several months, weeks and hours in my other room with unrepentant pleasure until that moment came. The moment that made me ask questions again of what the other room is. The moment that made me ask myself if I deserve the other room. The moment that made me instantly hate my other room. It became the opposite of what it should feel like and it became filled with torments and memories I struggle desperately to push away. In here, I was his play thing, a living mannequin. The pleasure I had craved so badly was lost the moment I realized I was being used for the same purpose I had imagined to be memorable, yet I had no right to speak, else my sex tape would be out. I was subjected to his demands, his insatiable sexual needs and he would do to me those things that are pleasurable to many but a torture to others like me.
That was a long time ago.
Finally, my breakthrough came. He came as usual and I followed him silently as I always did, pretending to play the fool and giving him no hints of the devil about to be unleashed. As he pulled down his trousers and brought out his phone to record, my fear grew to hatred but I waited for him to come closer. He came to me and in one unrehearsed swoop, he filled my moth with his penis and for a moment, he believed it was business as usual, but I bit his penis so hard that it bled. My teeth held on so tight like my life depended on it and in that moment, it did. I watched him shiver in pain as he struggled to save what was left of his member, hitting me as he did. His phone fell, falling apart. He fell too, wriggling in deep, unbearable pain, but I didn’t care. It was the last time I heard of both him and the supposed tape.
That was a long time ago.
I sat on the floor and wept profusely. I wept for the mistakes I had made, I wept for the pain I caused myself, I wept for what I had lost. I looked around the room and I saw my Bible lying there, covered in dust and I wept again at the thought of my Bible seeing my shame. I got up, picked it, dusted it and opened it.
That day, my other room became my WAR ROOM.