‘I’ll be waiting for you in the other room’. I heard his distant yet clear voice and I immediately grew pale. ‘The other room’, I thought to myself again as I remembered the things I had heard about that room, things like, it is a room full of exciting things, full of ecstasy, full of life and full of memories. I was so eager to have a feel of these things that I did not wait for the right time and in order to keep the memory for long, I chose my house. Thinking about it now, my house harbored my womanhood but if anyone thinks I’ll state if I have regrets, they will be so wrong.
That was a long time ago.
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I spent several hours, several weeks and several months in the other room in unrepentant pleasure until my moment came. My other room became the esactopposite of what it felt like, it became full of torment, the pleasure in it was lost the moment I realized I was being used for the same purpose I expected to be memorable, yet I had no right to speak, else, my s3x tape would be out. I was subjected to his commands, his insatiable sexual needs and he would do to me those things that are pleasurable to many but a dungeon to others like me.
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Finally, my breakthrough came, he came as usual and I silently followed as usual, with no knowledge that the unusual was about to happen. As he pulled down his trousers, my fear grew to hatred as I bit his p3nis so hard that it bled. I watched him shiver in pain and his phone fell, falling apart. It was the last time I heard of both him and the supposed tape.
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I sat on the floor and wept profusely, I wept for the mistakes I had made, I wept for the pain I had 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 up, dusted it and opened it.
That day, my other room became my WAR ROOM.