I had my very first sex with Madam Amaka when I was fifteen years old. Luckily for me, it was painless but fast. It happened just like a flash. I watched helplessly as Madam Amaka rode me like a horse. She cared only about the way she felt. All she needed was to have that sexual feelings and pleasure. And when she reached c—-x, it was like the arrival of chariots. Her moans and scream was like the roar of ten Lions.
For Five good years I was countlessly harassed by a woman I called a mother. A woman that once carried me in her arms and nursed me. I was stripped naked and made to lie on her while she wined her waist in pleasure.
Madam Amaka no longer begged for my body. She took it by force and I dare not say a word. No doubt, I became her property from the very age of ten. Madam Amaka showered me with gifts. She lavished me with money. She made sure I was comfortable and wore the best of clothing.
I never rejected her gifts. I could not even try it. She made sure I wore the cloths she bought me. She ensured I spent the money she gave me.
At some point, I began to enjoy the money I was receiving from her. I began to enjoy the fun that came with s——g a woman who was old enough to be my mother. I could walk up to her and ask any amount and she will give it to me. All I just needed to do was to ask.
I had no choice. It was either I enjoyed the gifts and satisfy Madam Amaka, or I rejected her gifts and still satisfied her sexual desires. I had no one to tell. I had no one to share my problems with.
I had tried avoiding her severally. I tried to say no to her a couple of times. But then, Madam Amaka threatened to tell my parents about my stupid act if I dare refuse to satisfy her. I was scared of my Mum. I was even more scared of my Dad. That was how she got me into having my very first sex with her at age fifteen. All she needed to do was remind me of how brutal my father was, and how much my mum trusted me and her. She reminded me of how I would be breaking her heart if I dare refuse her.
I thought about my parents this time. I thought about what they will think of me when they hear my sexual escapades with Madam Amaka.
What will be my punishment if they found out? No one will ever listen to my own side of the story. No one will ever understand me.
I would had reported her to my mum when I still had the chance. Probably the whole feelings of guilt would have been over by now.
By now, no one would have remembered that I was even molested.
But instead, I let it grow every single day. Just like a rash, it kept spreading. It kept piling like a trailer of sand. I was secretly burying myself in my own grave.
Things had gotten so bad in the last five years of my life. I have no place to run any more.
My mothers love for Madam Amaka grew even stronger. My father who was not a fan of Madam Amaka had suddenly become her best friend. She had won their hearts with gifts, money and pretence.
No one suspected anything. Even though I spent hours in her house no one cared. No one called me out when I stayed out late at night in her house. I could sleep on her bed in her bedroom and my mother would walk in and feel it was just a normal thing.
At age Eighteen, I lost count of the number of times I slept with Madam Amaka. It was probably up to four hundred times or even more. Most of those times, I was the one who walked over to her house to demand for sex.
When ever I needed money, I had to get it only when I impressed her in the bedroom. I was ever willing to do it. It was the only way I got money to do what ever I wanted.
I spent my money on friends and lavished it on expensive gifts which I bought my female friends too.
By the age of Nineteen, I had a passionate hate for older women. Madam Amaka made me feel every woman would someday be like her. Madam Amaka never thought of remarrying another man anymore. She never even mentioned it.
When ever she was asked about marriage, she turned the idea down instantly. When My mother asked her when she intends on getting married, she would jokingly say “what do I need a husband for when I already got my small husband who has been with me since he was a child. Do you want Wale to get jealous? Abeg leave me and my husband Wale o.”
I would watch as the both women laughed about the whole thing. My mother would laugh out loud. Little did she know that her son had been secretly sleeping with her best friend. O how disappointed she would feel when she finds out. She would feel so betrayed and played.
I on my own part never had a girlfriend who I could call my own. I never got myself into any relationship. Madam Amaka had made sure I stayed clear off women.
She never made me go close to other ladies. I was a prisoner with her. If it was never going to be a boy like me, then it was not going to be another. My mother supported the idea greatly. What did she know? She felt Madam Amaka was protecting me from girls.
Once I was hanging out at a joint with one of my female friends Ijeoma, when Madam Amaka drove pass and sighted the two of us.
Her car parked in front of the joint and she dropped from her car like a voracious lion. She walked up to me and landed a thunderous slap on my face.
Confused Ijeoma opened her mouth to protest, when Madam Amaka landed a slap on her cheeks as well. The slap forced Ijeoma scrambling back to her chair.
“Get in the car fool.” She fired at me.
“Do you like your life? Do you?” She turned to ask Ijeoma who was holding onto her cheeks with her right hands, and rubbing in the pain from the slap.
“Yes ma.” She replied in terror.
“Stay off my son. Stay off my son.” She thundered loudly.
“Get into the car.” Madam Amaka thundered at me as I walked into the car.
Ijeoma never spoke to me ever again. According to her, she said she had never been embarrassed in public the way she was that very day. She was scared such act may repeat itself. So she stayed clear off me.
I made up my mind to stay off women too. I couldn’t stand getting embarrassed in front of another girl again. And so I became committed to Madam Amaka.
One Saturday evening after a round of sex with Madam Amaka, she drew me close and stroked my head.
“Wale. We would have to reduce the way we meet and flaunt our sexual life.”
I was stunned. The news hit me on my chest. I turned towards her.
“What is wrong? What did I do wrong? Tell me. Are you getting married? Tell me.”
“No it is not that. Wale you did nothing wrong.”
“Then what is it?” I asked.
“Wale, my daughter Anike is coming to Nigeria for the first time in 13years. She is coming from the US to spend some time with me. Probably a month or two. We would have to stop what ever act we have been doing till she goes back.”
To be continued….