Version for “Tales of the Veils” website.
Not for reproduction on other websites or in any other publishing format without author’s permission.
This story is a sequel to Dave Potter’s Veiled Weekend which it is recommended to having read first, but you can enjoy this without.
(Editors note: This story has so many references to other TOTV stories that I suggest you read the entire story before start pursuing links.)
From: InPurdahHeaven <firstname.lastname@example.org>
To: Bo_Emp <email@example.com>
Sent: Tuesday, Februray 26, 2013 02:46 AM
Subject: A masked and veiled weekend at the Venice Carnival
At the end of the account of my real-life veiled weekend with ModestyMan, which you kindly published on your website in September, it says he invited me for a new weekend, this time to Venice during the Carnival. We were there from the 8th to the 10th of this month, and with him paying for the trip I could hardly reject when he suggested I this time made the account which we hope you again will publish.
My conditions from the first meeting of never letting him see my face or hear my voice for me to be gagged, veiled and fully covered in his presence except uncovering for kissing and lovemaking we have agreed should still apply, and so we travelled separately for me to pass the borders and arrive in Venice unveiled in normal clothing. Despite thousands of people visiting Venice during the Carnival this meant I had insisted on him having a travel plan to arrive later than me or it would be easy for him to stand at the boat arrivals from the airport and photograph the people leaving the one or two boats fitting my flight, later photograph my travel clothing in our hotel room and then after coming home find my face on his photos to get to learn my face without my knowledge. I would use the time in between our arrivals to go to the costume rental shop and change to my costume and collect his to meet him masked and fully covered without attracting any special attention due to my appearance. I had also taken care of finding a shop and being allowed to select both our costumes both for him being unable to await my arrival there in case I would be delayed and to pay for the rental to contribute financially.
Everything went as planned. Late Friday afternoon I arrived in Venice and found the shop. I tried on my costume and with it fitting nicely I told the shop assistant I would like to keep it on and asked if she had some of the black make-up used around the eyes to make them less visible while masked that I had seen on many photos. Of course she had, and when back from the changing room the shop assistant had fitted the plastic wrapped costume of ModestyMan on top of my large suitcase under the elastic straps I had put around it, and then very slowly I walked the 400 meters to our hotel pulling the wheeled suitcase, enjoying the colourful street life full of costumed people and very much enjoying myself once again being completely covered in a costume much less restricting than a burqa but otherwise almost as wonderful.
At the hotel reception I had anticipated that speaking through the mask made of papier-mâché (paper plaster) would make my speech unintelligible, and pulling the mask out from the face would require refitting of the coif that hid the edge of the mask and the head below the hat, which I would rather avoid, so I only showed the receptionist a print of the reservation that ModestyMan had mailed me but with the personal details removed, where I had written on the back I would like my suitcase to be kept safe until the room was claimed with the full reservation. His answer, as I had expected, showed that my way of addressing him was not unusual during Carnival and he added a message in Italian below my writing to have my suitcase taken to the room and then put my print in the room post box.
I went outside to watch the early evening street life with its many people masked and covered up in beautiful costumes and enjoy my own costume and being masked. Although I had chosen this costume for its relative simplicity and dark colour, not that far from the Muslim clothing that I cherish so much, my main reason for choosing it was that the mask’s eye openings were mesh covered to hide this essential part of the face much better than most Venetian masks. Despite the meshes reminding me of wearing a burqa, their visual influence was much less than any of my burqas both ways, and it was an unusual experience for me walking around being completely covered like I was used to with my Muslim clothing but able to see with just a light white blur almost as if my eyes were uncovered.
It was so wonderful to walk the streets of Venice that I almost forgot the time to be back at the hotel almost half an hour after the time ModestyMan had predicted for his arrival where I had only in mind to arrive fifteen minutes after him. The same receptionist, on seeing me called our room number out loud to attract my attention to him. He had an envelope for me. It contained the same contract of a Nikkah-al-Far Temporary Marriage as I had presented to ModestyMan at the beginning of our first meeting. I signed it, went to our room, knocked on the door and stood waiting with my hand holding the contract stretched towards it. A masked and costumed man answered the door.
He was wearing the costume I had rented, and after a quick look at the contract resulting in a nod he took me in a tight embrace that would have resulted in kissing if we were not both masked, but it immediately made me feel like at our intimate moments at the first meeting and I sensed ModestyMan felt the same. While holding each other tight he stepped backwards to pull me into the room and towards the bed. At the end of the bed he retracted from me, went to close the door and came back to start untying my dress while I started unbuttoning his jacket. With the costumes off our bodies and without footwear but both still gloved and wearing the full head covering including mask we dropped down on the bed entwined. It was wonderful to have sex with him again.
We both lay spent on the bed for some minutes just looking at each other’s masked faces. Then ModestyMan sat up and removed his head covering and mask to say
“It was great InPurdahHeaven. After our first meeting I’m sure sex with a veiled or masked woman is the only thing for me, but also being masked myself is a variation I’d certainly like to repeat during our stay here, and very likely now and then in the future as well. It improves my understanding of why you like being veiled no doubt. I also like your choice of costumes. We’ll make a great couple during the coming days and be photographed many hundred times no doubt. With you just having signed our marriage contract I think your covering is acceptable, but for the rest of its duration I think you agree it isn’t, so if you are able to change in the bathroom into something more appropriate for spending the rest of the evening here I suggest you leave the bed right away.”
I nodded and left the bed to open my suitcase. With my covering being ‘acceptable’ he was referring to my underwear which consisted of the full body thermal suit he gave me at our first meeting, which I today wore with the hood hanging down the back to be able to travel showing my head, but now wearing the mask and head covering of the costume the only parts of my skin he had seen was those revealed by opening the crotch zipper and my black made-up eye region beneath the mask eye meshes. I intended to wear this suit all through the weekend not only to hide my skin but also because Venice is cold in February with single digit midday temperatures and night temperatures below zero with even the full covering of the costume being insufficient to be outdoors for hours with little movement. We had agreed from home that when not in carnival costume I would wear various Muslim outfits as at our first meeting, and I had packed my suitcase with everything for the first one at the top.
I did a little freshen up and dressing was simple for me in a short while to be back with ModestyMan who took a good look at me and then said
“Ah, a black tudong. My wife has become a wonderful looking pious Indonesian lady with an unusual face covering. Despite your face is unusual it is something we have seen before, isn’t it? I’ll think about it while using the bathroom and meanwhile you can put your clothing in the wardrobe.”
On his return ModestyMan said
“I think I have it! This time I have brought an iPad for all the stories I’ll read for you to be read directly from the Tales of the Veils website, and this also means we have access to anything I didn’t think of in advance. But before checking if my guess for your outfit is right I think as in the cottage in Snowdonia we should take on some normal names instead of our internet nom de plumes which are not suitable for real life, this being much more important this time where we are in a crowded place where very likely I am going to say your name for others to hear. Because of that I have dropped taking names from the story that brought us here, Moretta. First because calling you Giulia might may some think I speak Italian, and that could lead to embarrassing situations because I do not understand a word of it. We could call you the English version, Julia instead, but the story still isn’t usable because the husband of Giulia is never mentioned by Christian name. But there are many other stories on Tales of the Veils where masks play a prominent role just as here in Venice. If I’m right about your outfit this and my choice of names show we think the same on the subject of veiling. During our weekend in Snowdonia it revolved much around the stories of Bo_Emp which is natural since he has contributed the most stories and our favourites so far, but despite his large contribution it’s only about a quarter of the total so there is much more left. My chain of thought then said let’s go on to number two, Dave, and find our names in a story of his with masking. On the TOTV Statistics page click click to see Dave has five stories tagged with ‘mask’. Immediately it looks like only The Ugly Duckling, set in a future veiled Britain, contains English names, but I had to check the others as well and when surprisingly the story simply titled The Mask had what I was looking for and it was settled. As you probably remember it is set in a Thousand and One Nights Basra with Arab names, but in the introduction Dave reveals his inspiration is a story by Michelle from which he quotes and I now quote from The Mask:
‘Laura disappears and returns with an Arabian jewelled facemask Roger had been given by a satisfied customer in the Middle East.’
So for the rest of our stay here your name is Laura and mine is Roger. If we have to use a last name I’ll say Smith to make anyone give up on looking us up. Back to your costume. You have for the same reasons as me chosen to dress in like manner to that in a story of Dave’s haven’t you?”
I nodded twice for Roger to go on
“My, our, first contribution to Tales of the Veils, the account of the weekend in Snowdonia, was triggered by a story of Dave’s set in Indonesia titled Nurismawati. You wear Indonesian clothes and your special face covering is copied from that story. You dress like Nurismawati.”
I gave Roger a hug and then tapped the iPad for him to work it for a dozen seconds and then read out loud
“At this point I realised that I had become the thing I hated; that I had taken someone else’s Nurismawati off them. I ordered her to stay in the room and drove straight to her village and sought out this boyfriend. Then I took him to our house and told him to enter our bedchamber. Lintang was still sat on the bed, a red scarf over her face and a black tudung on her head.
“Is this the man you love?” I asked.
“Lintang, I divorce you! I divorce you! I divorce you!” I pronounced.
Both she and the boy gasped.
“Please, marry this man and pursue your happiness and take this money for your family and to build a new life!”
Then I gave them $5000 and they thanked me and kissed my hand before leaving. Never in my life have I felt so happy and good but what it meant was that once again I was alone, with only my dreams of Nurismawati for comfort.”
I nod continuously for some seconds to indicate this is exactly it and a wonderful moving passage as well. Then I gesture if I may write on the Ipad. He hands it to me with a keyboard displayed on the screen. Although the screen is quite blurred looking through the scarf covering my face I’m just able to read my writing and the keyboard layout is standard.
Now I’m of course gagged with a ball with a tube for drinking. Notice the contours you see of my face doesn’t reflect this because I also wear the blank black plastic mask you gave me with the thermal suit for this ensemble to be a completely covering layer except for the holes of the mask. Now that we are in Italy I would like a glass of good Italian red wine please. I have brought both straws and longer flexible tubes for drinking, and perhaps eating as well if not having to eat in the bathroom or while you are away from the room. If you haven’t brought the blender as we agreed then we have to revert to one of those options.
As soon as reading my request for wine it was granted by Roger picking up the room phone to call room service. To my relief, after reading the last of my message he produced a blender from his suitcase and took it to the bathroom. Then he took me to the window and we just looked for half a minute before he said
“What a wonderful view, gondolas with costumed couples, people walking on both sides of the canal, really many dressed up, and more masked people watching the same view from the opposite side on the bridge down there.”
I shook my head for Roger to ask
“Is it too dark now for you to see or is your sight too blurry to see a view like this?”
I nodded twice with a short interval for Yes to both. I could of course see there was a canal surrounded by old buildings and I could see the moving gondolas, but the details of the people in the gondolas were just a blur with me being unable to differentiate males from females and the people walking along the walls were only seen as moving contours. My nodding makes Roger say
“Then everything is at it should be Laura. I was afraid just this one scarf covering your eyes was too little for the modesty I require.”
I pointed at the iPad and with a nod Roger permitted me to write.
This one scarf reduces my vision a little more than the two eye layers of the niqab you required as minimum in the cottage. With this being a very small space to learn to navigate and not having to do any cooking or cleaning I won’t be wearing an eye cover less than this for staying in here, but I would like to ask for permission to go out in the carnival costume as I arrived with just black made-up eyes and the meshes of the mask and then adding a niqab with one eye layer to compensate that our costumed outings are in bright daylight.
Roger didn’t get to read the message immediately because two thirds through my writing the door is knocked. On its opening a maid bought in a tray with a bottle and glasses which there is just enough room for her to place on a small table more than half filled by a television. She showed the label of the bottle to Roger who said
“A local wine as requested, and from 2009 is good as well. We take it. – Yes, please uncork it and pour.”
While Roger prepared to pay her she said
“If I may say so, you look beautiful Madam. It is certainly not a Venetian costume but unique and wonderful. Is there a ball for non-Venetian costumes tonight somewhere?”
Of course it is Roger who answered
“It is a traditional Muslim dress from Indonesia Miss. We are both members of a society interested in traditional face covering from all over the world, and while studying and trying out the Venetian masking during our days here we use the opportunity of meeting physically to study costumes from elsewhere hands on during evenings and mornings.”
The maid said
“Ah, I would love to go into clothing as well. Get into the fashion business and try to see if my talent suffices as designer. Imagine having designed one of the traditional Venetian costumes and somehow learning it’s still in use and elaborated on four hundred years later, although just for a yearly festival and not as everyday clothing as originally. Enjoy your stay here Sir and Madam.”
Roger had as suggested with a gesture by the maid approved the wine by taking a sip and nodded to end the conversation by saying
“This wonderful local wine makes me want to come back soon when the weather has become warm here and still cold in Britain. With your unusually good English skills for an Italian I’m sure some of your professional dreams are fulfilled. If we need room service again or advice about Venice your fine English makes me want to ask for you. Would you tell me your name please?”
“Giulia Sir. Giulia Andretti. A very generous tip Sir, thank you.”
After closing the door Roger’s face showed this last information had shocked him and he jumps for the iPad, but not to read what I was writing when the maid arrived, but to find the Moretta story. While searching and reading he said
“Isn’t Moretta fiction or have we met a descendant of the Giulia of Moretta named after her many great-great-grandmother because Renaissance Giulia was a noble woman or are we dreaming or what? – – Yes, I remembered right, the surname of Giulia in Moretta is Andretti. No matter what it’s a mind boggling coincidence.”
I reached out for the iPad to write
Aren’t both the first name and the surname very common for the combination to be common?
I went to the cupboard for a straw while he worked with the iPad to after a long minute saying
“Giulia is a very common first name but most Google results for Andretti are only about a former champion racing driver and his family, and searching for exactly ‘Giulia Andretti’ yields less than 150 results. My conclusion is that it remains a strange coincidence and our maid is out of a famous family.
– Your face scarf has a cut for a straw I can now see, and your posture says you would like to toast for us meeting again and another wonderful weekend ahead. Cheers then!”
We touched glasses, took a sip of wine and made a deep nod to each other. While still sipping Roger went to the window, no doubt to have a part of Venice in front of his eyes while enjoying this local wine. I went to stand close up against him to enjoy his close company when unable to get much of a view, and when unable to get both I had the best.
After more than ten minutes Roger motioned me to stay while fetching the iPad. After reading for about twenty seconds he says
“Your comment about your eye covering shows you are a good modest wife, but I won’t promise you now that your eye covering when we go out in the Venetian costumes will be as you want. I know we only agreed on you being dressed in strict Muslim style while in here, but the contract covers the entire weekend which means I’m also your husband to obey when in public, and what happens until we go out tomorrow may influence how I’d like you to go out, so you’d better be good.
In Italy you eat late but first we are not Italians and second I’m hungrier than usual after the trip and moreover it’s past my usual dinner time. Of course we will have Italian food, and I have been considering your ability to eat when deciding on lasagne if you don’t protest wildly. It’s filled with sauces, soft spaghetti and other ingredients turned soft due to baking to be very easy to blend without this spoiling the taste very much I would guess. – One or two slices for you? – I’ll knock at my return and a tudong is easy to remove and fit again for you to enjoy the view while I’m away. With the lamps there is plenty to see even at this hour.”
I showed him two fingers and he put his now empty glass down on the table and left. I removed the tudong and the face scarf, poured myself another glass and went back to the window. Indeed the room had a wonderful view, even at night. Lamps at the front of the hotel lit the canal to make it easy to see people in the passing boats.
Suddenly the door was knocked. I took a quick glance at the alarm clock to find almost half an hour had passed as a breeze with me just sipping wine and enjoying the view. There was no time to align the face scarf with the slit at the mouth hole of my mask. I just dropped it on top of my face, pulled the tudong over it and went to open the door. A nice smell came from the plastic bag that Roger brought in, and I needn’t worry about my head covering as he just handed me one thermal paper bag from the plastic bag and pointed towards the bathroom. In there I removed both the tudong, the face scarf and the mask and leaned over the sink to take some bites of lasagne directly from the bag before, with my mouth filled, filling the rest into the blender. Then I reapplied my head covering and with the blender bowl in my hand opened the door.
Roger meanwhile had cleared the small table for one by placing the television on the floor, placed the table on the centre of the open floor, placed chairs on the opposite sides and also covered his side of the table with tableware from the hotel restaurant I guess. He motioned me to sit down saying
“Enjoy the meal my dear Laura!”
We ate hungrily for some time. After we both had our second break for a sip of wine he said
“This is much better than what I have got in Britain, but it has to be also being much more expensive. Everything here is festival prices now as expected. If my father had not passed away about four months before we met in Snowdonia for me to inherit the value of his house I wouldn’t have invited you here. – Don’t feel guilty, it was his highest wish that I found a woman to live with and if we don’t move to separate rooms during this stay you are the women of my life I have spent the most time alone with. If he had been alive for me to tell him about the weekend in Snowdonia he would have mortgaged his house for us to be together now.”
I took my wine glass and stood. Roger said
“You want to propose a toast to my father? – You are right, we owe him that. It won’t reveal my identity by saying his name was Peter.”
We touched glasses and sat down to again eat and suck respectively. When Roger again took a wine break he said
“Did you have a nice trip? Everything went as planned?”
I nodded to each for him to continue
“No problems for me either. I even had an enjoyable time waiting after the security check being able to sit and watch an Arab family for about fifteen minutes. It consisted a man and four women all dressed in beautiful expensive black abayas and with black hijabs, and three of them wore niqab as well. The one without niqab was wonderful to watch nonetheless being a pretty girl of about fifteen already proficient in maximising her beauty with makeup. Of the three remaining women two were completely covered wearing gloves and with the eye layers of the niqab down, whereas the third showed both well-manicured elegant hands and eyes with long lashes seductively blinking from inside a slit with a nose string. One of the eye veiled women was clearly older than the other two, who I from their intimate conversation and other signs I estimated to be of similar age, and from the hands and eyes one showed to be in their early twenties. I made two theories for their family relationship. The two of the same age and the girl were sisters and the older woman the mother of them all, or the two were co-wives and the girl either little sister of one of them or the daughter of the fully covered one, who, due to her complete covering I had grossly misjudged her age and the older woman was the mother-in-law of the two co-wives. Although watching co-wives was an intriguing thought I dropped that theory again because I couldn’t imagine a husband allowing his wives to cover differently. The man accompanying the four women could either be the son of the older woman and thus the brother of the rest, or the husband of one of the similarly aged young women, most likely the one showing hands and eyes, for them to live a more liberal lifestyle in Britain and now they were accompanying his mother and two sisters back to a place on the Arabian peninsula where eye veiling is the norm not to deviate from even when out of the country. You understand that for once the time waiting for departure flew away.”
He held out his hands to mimic an airplane and indicate the last line was a bad joke, and then lifted his glass for a toast to make up for it. After we had drunk he continued
“Talking about a different form of veiling from what you wear now I think it’s time to change as soon as you have finished your lasagna. I took a quick glance in the cupboard while you were in the bathroom blending and it seems to me you have, as we have discussed, brought at least the same amount of clothes as when in Snowdonia but it’s a little hard to judge with most of it placed in black plastic bags. With the same amount of outfits I can enjoy you in a new outfit much more frequently while in here because for most of the daylight hours this weekend will be spent in the streets wearing the carnival costume. What you put on soon should be especially exciting to act as foreplay for us going to bed.”
I nodded enthusiastically and started sucking much more quickly to empty the bowl, also because Roger only had a few mouthfuls on his plate. A few minutes later I got up and refilled his glass, then opened the cupboard to look at the plastic bags. The contents of each bag, or in some cases two bags, contained the items I had assembled to dress up for one story and were labelled with a simple code that I expected Roger to be too excited to break during the weekend. The bag I took to the bathroom was labelled KCHQ. I had considered what story to present when, but was very willing to leave my plan if the situation called for it, and it did now.
While removing the Indonesian clothes in my head I ran through what this outfit consisted of, wondering whether or not I also needed to remove the black plastic mask, but I keep on the thermal suit. It took a while to get dressed but I was also very careful about doing it right because this character is in bondage, for which I had figured out a final step of irreversible self-bondage. When having carefully checked my appearance in the mirror, by movement I felt that everything was right. Blindly, because this was to be done beneath the layers I had on, I took hold of both ends of a string hanging down my right side. Next I clipped the short chains of cuffs around my wrists to a belt hanging very loosely around my waist. The belt was made a little longer than when fitting tight to just allow me to clip the left chain with the right wrist already chained to the belt. Then I shifted the hold of the string from right to left hand and pulled until the belt was tight to at the same time pulling my hands apart and my wrists toward my waist. The string was threaded through a hole at the end of the belt without being tied for me to hold at both ends so I could easily pull on it. The buckle of the belt was placed at my back and self-locking as in an airplane requiring the buckle to be taken taking hold of to loosen the belt. With my hands held in short chains at my sides and the buckle on the back that was now impossible for me to do. I pulled the string out of the hole in the belt and let it drop to the floor and then with tiny steps, because my ankles were chained as well, and carefully sensing ahead of me, because I was also practically blind, I found the door handle and opened it.
I was just able to see that the table and the chairs had been returned to their original positions and Roger had been seated in one of them with his iPad which I saw as a dark moving surface to be put on the table when he got up by my entering the room.
“So my Arab family from the airport flew to Venice as well, and now the young eye veiled woman has come to let me learn which of my theories was right. Please sit down to appear closer to what I saw.”
I turned my head from side to side and then shook it to make Roger say
“You can’t see a chair and I can’t see even a hint of your eyes which means you are close to blind and as such would like to be guided to sit?”
I nodded and was guided to sit in front of the table reacting so slowly that it made Roger ask
“Your legs are restricted?”
I nodded for him to go on
“Well, I have to be honest and say that it’s mostly your niqab covered face which looks like the woman in the airport, but even there I think she at most wore two eye layers, where I think it requires three for your eyes to be so well hidden as yours are now. You could of course also be wearing something under the niqab that adds to hiding the eyes. The largest difference is that none of the women in the airport wore a khimar like you do, and then I have to say that all of their clothing was of much more expensive quality than yours. Despite that you appear much more modest, and as such to my liking, than them. Showing arms is only for working in private and worst of all the two young women were constantly chatting, although too low for me to hear if I could understand anything. In my view if you have chosen to cover the eyes silence is a must. You are not only silent but also still gagged I assume?”
I nodded for Roger to continue
“Well, not being any of the women from the airport your outfit is from a tale at Tales of the Veils, right?”
I nodded for Roger to step towards the table for the iPad behind me, but that would be too easy and I momentarily stood up and leaned over to block his way to make him say
“You don’t want a fast answer. You want to play. Very good, I have to rely on my memory but you are going to guide me by answering Yes/No questions, isn’t that a fair deal?”
I nodded to make him say
“If this is going to be an intellectual effort I’d I better strengthen my mind with some minerals to be found in wine. Would you like some as well? I can turn you for your glass to stand on the table.”
It was not only my outer layer that was true to the story and despite I hadn’t changed my gag it was now covered with a scarf which I hadn’t prepared with a cut for drinking, so although some more wine would be nice I had to shake my head to make Roger start asking after deducing out loud
“When arguing for our names for this weekend I more or less concluded that we both see this as a weekend dominated by Dave’s tales, so my first question is: Is it a Dave Potter tale?”
I nodded for Roger to go on saying
“Well, black outfits with niqabs are to be seen all over the world these days, so I’d better reduce the possibilities by asking: Is the tale set today? It’s also a No if it’s set in an alternative world.”
I nodded again for Roger to continue
“No alternative Britain and no The Mask or other stories from the times of A Thousand and one Nights or even the Soviet era, but that didn’t remove that many stories with niqab either I would say. Then there are all those stories of British women more or especially less voluntarily going to Pakistan because it was part of its empire; although they all contain burqas they tend to wear niqabs at the beginning or beneath the burqa. I’d better go for the geography now: Is the story set on the Arabian Peninsula? That should also include fictive emirates or countries called Arabia or similar.”
I nodded again for Roger to say without a pause for thinking
“Now we are close. Let me think, a Dave Potter story set most likely in Saudi Arabia, and we are in Venice to make a mask be a likely face covering as well: Is there a mask or hood in this story Laura?”
I shook my head for Roger to wait for long before saying pausing between each title
“Last Day in Riyadh, Letters from Saudi, The Lift, Sister Alima and The Girl in the Mirror. – Yes I think that’s about it, but it’s still quite a few. I think I have to narrow it down in another way: May I lift your clothes? And your niqab?”
I nodded twice for him to come to bow over me and first lift at the khimar, then to take hold of one of the gloved hands now showing to find out that he was quickly stopped in lifting the hand to see if all the folds of the abaya would show it to be a butterfly style, which it was, and finally he lifted my niqab layers one by one to find there was three eye layers, as he had predicted, and innermost under both the niqab, the top of the overhead abaya and a headscarf was a scarf tied over the lower face for him to, despite holding the niqab horizontal, only to see my black made-up eyes. While thinking about the information he got from inspecting me he took some steps back as if it would help to again look at me in full and finally he said
“Sister Alima is about a woman, secretly to her co-wives but supported by her husband, pursuing a career as television presenter where she is clearly not chained, but they live at a place with very strict traditions for the wives to be heavily covered and also restricted at home. You could be Sister Alima at home. The Lift by Dave ends with the beautiful Arab woman showing to be from a strict tradition as well, but I remember the picture at the end shows her in a butterfly abaya, so there is no khimar on top, and with both these illustrations being admirably accurate and your clothing as well no doubt The Lift is ruled out. One candidate down, – one, two, three unresolved. This is tough. Wouldn’t you rather give me a clue for us to go to bed early, but not sleep of course, than listening to me reading aloud from my feeble memory until we both are too tired to fully enjoy each other?”
I nodded and dropped the print of the quote from this story I had prepared, not knowing Roger would bring an iPad, I had been holding in my hand but put in my lap while he inspected me on the floor. He picked it up to read it loud
“The hands were covered with stretchy cotton gloves which Simone removed only to find another pair of thick woollen ones underneath. Simone realised that it must have been quite a trial for this girl even to write her notes. This was even better than those flights of fantasy on the internet!
The rest of the girl’s clothing consisted of a khimar and jilbab, all in black, as well as a thick veil over her nose and mouth, and a headscarf.
Ah, it’s the one where a young woman has got herself to a conference in Saudi Arabia because she has a veil fetish and then at her hotel room she is met by a heavily veiled woman from her own country about to enter a forced marriage and Simone offers her to switch identities and not at least clothing. So you are both the characters in – – Last Day in Riyadh!”
I got up nodding and wanted to embrace Roger but I could do nothing but start mincing towards him still nodding. This was more than enough though for him to take me in a tight grip and after a little while start moving his hands all over me to try to feel if there were female curves under the black. To me it felt very good, and when he first lifted at the khimar only to search if there was an opening or a zipper in the abaya around my thighs I knew we had the same on our minds. Clearly disappointed he said in a commanding voice
“Wife! Now we don’t follow your fancy anymore! Immediately undress to me so I can have you.”
I did about all I could do which was shaking my hands to make the front fabric of the khimar shake with them. He reached for me while saying
“Women veiled, covered in layers and chained to be completely helpless are wonderful, but with the current level of technology their attire should have all this remotely controlled for their Master, husband or guardian just to enter a code and then the hidden beauty would be revealed to serve its purpose within seconds.”
To my utter delight he has again groped on me to find out how to free my hands without any luck to reach for the back of my head and the closure of my niqab while saying
“There is apparently no shortcut, except for scissors or knives, to what I need most from you right now, which if disregarding the animal in me is at it should be. I can’t punish you for this outfit either as I requested something suitable for foreplay, and it has aroused me and now it holds me back in a way that drives me to a higher level before I can get release.”
With the niqab off I submissively bowed my head for our eyes not to meet but it was the bulge in his pants that kept my gaze down while he untied the khimar. Well, he could have reached the front neck zipper of the abaya by just unbuttoning the neck of the khimar, or he could have reached my belt by reaching down to the floor and rolling, folding and hitching the abaya up until able to reach the waist, but the slow thorough way would be better for both of us, and besides I was unable to explain these alternatives to him. Having removed the khimar and unzipped the front of the abaya he didn’t remove it though, but reached down in the front opening to meet my hard breasts before reaching my side and the belt. Immediately after having unclipped the two chains he drew away from me, held his arms horizontally out from the sides and dropped down on the bed on his back with his arms and legs outspread ready to receive me. I understood that the horizontal arms meant he wanted to see my overhead butterfly abaya fully unfolded, but to be able to play with him I first had to bend down and unchain my ankles. Then I positioned myself at the centre of the floor and stretched my hands out horizontally for the butterfly shape of the abaya to be shown in full. Next I made a full turn to show this shape from all angles, and finally I stepped forward to throw myself in his arms with my arms still outspread as if I was a bird lured into his net. Roger immediately pulled the abaya down for me to kick it off and down onto the floor. With this he got an extra number before the finale by seeing that I was wearing two sets of stockings and gloves, the inner set woollen, and leggings and a t-shirt just like in the story. After looking for a few seconds he simply pulled the leggings down and unzipped the thermal suit and because of the long foreplay we both enjoyed the actual act immensely and got fully satisfied.
After resting for some minutes I got out of bed to fetch the iPad. I let him turn it on and find the keyboard for me, and then wrote
On my previous visits to Italy I have always bought Campari Soda to drink just before going to bed. I would like you to either go down to the bar or out somewhere to perhaps buy some tomorrow instead of calling room service for me so I have both here and the bathroom to prepare for bed. Fifteen to twenty minutes should suffice. Just remember to knock please.
Roger smiled and said
“It’s not a sleep potion but a love potion, isn’t it? Anyway it tells me you want sex once more before we go to sleep, and I can only say we again think the same way.”
About fifteen minutes later I was ready for the night. The dressing was extremely simple, it just had to be done right next to the door because my night dress affected both my vision and my ability to move. I could then do nothing but wait. I didn’t mind, recalling the time in here so far was about the best preparation for what I expected to happen when Roger got back. I can only say much more than five minutes had passed when the door was knocked, but I’m sure there was plenty of activity to watch both in the hotel lobby and more so outside even if the clock had passed ten. Loving heavy veiling and purdah I accepted missing the street life although seeing masked couples coming out of the darkness to soon after disappearing through a door to imagine them making love with an unknown person is much more exciting than ordinary street life.
The seconds that passed after I had opened the door without me sensing Roger move told me my night dress had stunned him. Then his voice came from right in front of me
“Wow! A sheer sort of burqa made from tulle. Fully covered and yet showing your wonderful body with its curves enhanced by the thermal suit. In such a dress a woman is surely only to be seen by her lawfully wedded husband, and with you that lucky bastard is me. You have a note for me I see. It’s a quote from a veiled tale of course:
Anna Rosa decided to stay quiet for the moment and the maid then draped a semi-transparent grey cloth over her which she secured onto her head by means of a round cap in black and gold. Then a collar in the same colours was tied around her neck and Anna Rosa realised that there was no way in which she could remove the garment. Then, she was led to her bed, laid down and the bottom of the robe fastened together as if it were a bag. She was sealed in!
This is the inspiration for the dress you have created yourself I assume. With the name Anna Rosa in the quote there won’t be any prolonged guessing about the name of the story. I guess anybody having visited Tales of the Veils more than a few times has looked into what happens when the rebellious girl Anna Rosa is sent by her parents to the boarding school named ‘The Academy of Modesty and Submissive Behaviour‘ to learn to become a proper woman.
Your robe or dress I see is made to be closed at the bottom as well I see ending with the hem spilling on the floor being pulled together by a drawstring. Of course you want me to tie the drawstring properly with some knots for you to be sealed in just as Anna Rosa, don’t you?”
I nodded but already when start speaking about the drawstring Roger had started bending down. When it was tied he said
“You did nod? But just having made the dress like this you know you took removing the dress out of your own hands. The cap of your dress is also different from that of the story not only in that the body fabric is attached to it like a burqa, but also the cap is longer reaching below your eyes and as such making you blind I assume?”
I nodded for Roger to then take hold of me and lift me while he said
“Then I’d better place you where I want you, and the sheer white tulle makes me think of a wedding dress for me to treat you as a newly wedded bride and carry you to bed. I better also tell you then that I have brought some bottles of Campari Soda and with you requesting it I assume there is a slit for a straw in your dress?”
After being put down on the bed I was guided to sit up against the head end of the bed with a pillow at my back. I nodded for being able to drink and at the same time took my hand to my crotch to make the sheer fabric bulge and move to make Roger say
“I have noticed the zipper Laura. It would be meaningless to make a dress to excite your partner and then it had to be torn for him to take you. Please take your hand away from there or in some moments you won’t hold it above your crotch but touch it, and I won’t allow that. From now on I’ll decide what happens and when, and choosing this dress you have invited me to take control.”
I heard two bottles being uncapped and not long after one tapped my right hand for me to lift it up in front of the neck where I took hold of it through the tulle and then Roger guided a straw through the hole in my mask and through the tube of my gag.
I guessed I had drunk half the bottle before Roger’s voice broke my isolation as I couldn’t see what he was doing but drinking Campari Soda as well. It was a really surprising question
“Have you brought some safety pins?”
Would any woman travel without? I nodded and soon after sensed Roger at my side of the bed saying
“I now hold a notepad against your chest and with the loose tulle I think you can write a word or two blindly to let me find it.”
I lifted my right hand and got a pen which he guided to the paper. With us now being much closer after the first weekend and our direct exchange of mails since then, I didn’t mind sharing everything with ModestyMan, Roger, except so far my real name and private details, and I had told him he could look through all my belongings except my handbag and purse. In the cottage he had never tried to lift my veiling in a way to see my full face so I trusted him unconditionally on this as well and could do nothing else when often being practically blinded by veils and/or restricted. Some moments after I had dropped the pen his voice sounded from across the room to say
“I found them, thank you. Several dozen as I had hoped for.”
Next I could sense him working hard with the mattress next to me and after half a minute of silence he said
“I want you to sleep in the other side of the bed. You have only a few sucks left in the bottle, then please move over and I’ll guide you to lie down.”
When I had lain down comfortably with my head on the pillow he continued
“I have little knowledge of clothes making but I’m quite sure that if I pin your dress to the bed at about every ten centimetres all around you then it’s going to hold unless you pull really hard, and when it really gets going I’m on top of you to limit your movements. Besides remember the tulle is clearly the weakest part in this so it’s your dress being torn if you don’t behave. Not to ruin the property of the hotel you are going to be pinned to the bed by me having placed a sheet I brought opposite of normal that is placed below the mattress and with its sides folding around to the top for you to lay between its edges and your dress overlapping the sheet. Stay still until I say so, and afterwards no swift movements please.”
I started getting aroused by the thought of being restricted like this while I sensed Roger moving from above my head down along the side of the bed and then he climbed the bed from the opposite side to move from the top down this side. Sensing he left the other mattress I knew he had finished his work, and soon after I heard his voice coming from just beyond the end of the bed
“Laura, carefully try to lift your head please.”
I could only move a few centimetres before there was a strong pull at my cap and the tulle at my shoulders was no longer loose. Roger continued his test by saying
“Now try to lift your hands and knees.”
They all soon made the tulle tighten over the part lifted. It seemed to hold. Would I now be forced to spend the night flat on my back? It was an arousing thought and my hand, which I could move all over where I could reach without lifting anything else, moved to my crotch for it to receive a slap from Roger that made me take both hands down the sides, and then him saying
“It’s us who are going to enjoy each other soon my dear, and neither of us is going to get immediate satisfaction on our own to be drained when together. I think you should keep your hands where they are now when with me as you are not able to embrace me anyway, and then I’ll caress and move for the benefit of both of us.
The reason I brought a sheet is, as I guess you are aware of, that Dave loves his female characters to be placed on their back under a tight sheet with a single hole at the right place and then the male takes her without any foreplay or touching more than necessary, and most important without any of them seeing any part of the person they are having sex with.”
I moved my head up and down the little it could both as a continuous nodding to the words of Roger and also because his description excited me and being told to otherwise lie still this was how my body could express my sensations. Roger continued
“I would like us to try having sex like Dave describes, but when seeing this lovely night dress of yours I found it would be a shame not to look at it while we enjoyed each other, and so this combination of your dress and the sheet came to me for sheet only sex having to wait perhaps even until a future meeting. I like to react to things as they come. But I’ll read for you one of the passages that made me bring the sheet anyway. This is from ‘Black Ghost IV‘:
Voice removal?! Permanent! Gabriella wanted to cry. Never again would she be able to chat with her friends, talk things over to herself, sing in the bath. Silence, that was to be her lot from now on. Her lot until she died. If she had any children… they would never know the sound of their mother’s sweet voice. The tears started to well up in her eyes but then to her surprise, the crone bent over and stroked her on the head before giving her a light kiss on the forehead. She then took out a large white sheet and laid it over her charge. Then she left.
Under the sheet, Gabriella waited. She heard a door open and a man enter. Ahmet ben-Yusuf undressed and lay on top of her. He inserted his member through a hole in the sheet and consummated the wedding. It was strange being taken in such a manner, so different from her other sexual experiences, but Gabriella loved it. When he had finished, he lay down beside her and slept. At no time did he remove the sheet.”
Those words stayed in my mind when Roger a minute later came on top of me. Being blind, being held down by my dress pinned to the sheet around the mattress and with no skin contact whatsoever despite the thin tulle fabric due to wearing thermal suit and mask to me there was not much difference to a sheet alone covering me and holding me down. But Roger worked me much harder and pleasured me much more than the men having sex through sheets in Dave’s tales typically do. When, after a long time, we couldn’t anymore the pinning was without significance because I was totally relaxed and exhausted without any urge to lift any part of my body. I drifted contended into a dreamless sleep.
When I awoke the next morning I was free to move, my dress untied at the feet and Roger was gone. Looking around I found a note on the bathroom door saying ‘Out to get breakfast. There’s Nescafe next to the kettle. Left at 9:20.’ This was less than ten minutes ago so perhaps him removing the pins had brought me to life. This time I took from the cupboard the bag coded LOI I had planned from home to use at this hour and went to the bathroom. After a shower I again gagged myself and put on the thermal suit but without the mask as this was also part of the outfit in the bag. This outfit, a home dress made for indoor use in a warm climate could be worn without underwear, but I intended to wear it until going out in carnival costume and then changing would be faster. Also if Roger wanted sex before us going out then I had to remove the new outfit which had no crotch opening, and for this situation I also wore the scarf over nose and mouth from the Last Day in Riyad outfit to at most show my eyes to him. This meant it had to be removed for going to the bathroom as well to make it quite simple to remove and put on. In fact it was nothing but a full body sack made up of a bottom and top half, to make it look like the person inside was wearing two separate pieces, with a zip for entry at the back of the bottom part being hidden by the overlapping top. The original design was made to lock the wearer in with the zipper slider on the outside and a means for it to be padlocked. On my suit the slider was on the inside for me to seal myself in. I had also changed the design from the mask being a separate part to having it permanently attached to the semi-rigid face opening of the ‘sack.’ Further my mask had nothing attached to gag the wearer, which was why I had reapplied the gag I had worn overnight. I had bought it as a decorative mask having no openings for me to drill its small holes myself. Especially the eye holes were much smaller than the openings in the mask for the thermal suit not to say my carnival mask. But I hadn’t changed that this suit was made for women having servants. It had no slits for the hands. It was like with the night dress I had just removed but with this ‘sack’ folding much less and being of thicker material hand use was much more restricted. When leaving the bathroom I quickly realised I was unable to fill the kettle and handle the glass of Nescafe. I could do nothing but wait for Roger.
He arrived in less than five minutes. As with my night dress he was stunned, but this time I was able to see his expression which was happy and excited as well. After closing the door he said
“Have you been taking evening classes in sewing without telling me? Anyway you look fantastic. Showing limb less, featureless and with a blank face you are perfectly modest, only tempting veil fetishists like me, and with a coloured outfit you are a decorative element for the room where you stay as well. I’ll move the table out to the centre of the floor like yesterday, but instead of joining me at the table I want you to stand where the table is now for me to enjoy you in full while having breakfast.
You haven’t made coffee. Are you chained like yesterday?”
He lifts at the top of my dress to find out there are no openings anywhere and my hands can’t do much more than hold a glass or cup through the fabric to say
“From these weekends I learn that if we enter a closer relationship to live together I have to choose between you wearing the most modest and thus restricting and to me exciting clothing while we are together, with the result I have to do everything practical for us both, or I can relax on modesty and my preferences to have a partner who does part of the work and ideally is willing to fully serve me. With it being a late breakfast I have bought sufficient for us to have something again right after noon just before going out in our costumes. For you there are some different flavours of drinking yoghurt. When having it for lunch remember that you then have it fresh from the fridge while I have the bread already some hours old now.”
As soon as Roger had moved the table I placed myself up against the wall and just waited to be served. I couldn’t do much but I had two hands to be able to hold both the bottle of drinking yoghurt and the glass of Nescafe at the same time for Roger being free of caring for me during his own meal.
I kept my view, which due to the close to pinhole size eye openings of the mask was very limited but clear, fixed on Roger’s face to see how it continuously showed he enjoyed watching me, or rather a living mannequin displaying a strict conservative costume with a blank mask. Having finished a croissant he said
“It’s from one of those stories ending in a remote valley in Pakistan. It’s not that by Bo_Emp where the clothing to be modest is coloured like the earth of the valley, because they are only wearing that in public and are able to work as normal housewives in private. I was thinking of Family Search. With such restriction as your dress has it can only be worn by wealthy women with servants to do everything. Or there are some stories where the women out visiting are much more restricted than their female hosts … No, I don’t think it’s such a story. It is a Dave Potter story, isn’t it?”
I nodded for Roger to go on
“Then I won’t rack my brain with that anymore. You are able to read and point with a finger making the fabric bulge for you to show me on the iPad when I have finished eating and taken a bath.”
With that he got up to change my bottle of drinking yoghurt from peach flavour to strawberry flavour and then went back to just watching me, finish eating and drinking Nescafe.
In all he spent close to half an hour at the table just facing me except for the short intervals where his sight was needed for eating or drinking. My eyes did not leave his face as I had to sense shifting the straw from the drinking yoghurt to the Nescafe and back anyway. When he got up he took some fresh clothes to the bathroom, but then he surprised me by not closing the door but coming with the pair of nail scissors and take my post-it block for communicating through notes. Without a word I was then guided to the bathroom door where he put the small squares he had cut from the sticky part of a sheet over my eyes while saying
“I won’t spoil the well-designed total look of your outfit with a large non-matching scarf as a blindfold, and for you to make yourself blind with a scarf beneath the mask for just while I’m bathing would take too much time for you twice to get halfway out of the dress. It would be better if the paper was not yellow but the same green as the mask though; in fact it could be interesting if all the holes of the mask could be made to appear as green instead of black while still functioning.”
With that he left me in the bathroom doorway. It was very flattering to my work with making this outfit that he wouldn’t be without the sight of it while bathing, but on the other hand it was a little disappointing to me that he wouldn’t show himself naked for me and allow me to see very directly how much watching me in this dress affected him. I assumed he satisfied himself while watching me, even though that he knew that when I was able to hold a bottle I would also have been able to give him a hand job. Because of this I didn’t feel guilty in rubbing myself and the sound of the water overpowered the sounds that my gag couldn’t suppress. In the time between the water was turned off and Roger removed the pieces covering my eyes it came to me that the girls in the story wore chastity belts beneath the dress. Theirs were because they were unmarried virgins, but I would need one as well if to stay in this dress for long and all the time having to stand quietly on display.
Roger tidied up the bed and then placed the two pillows right next to each other up against the head end for us to climb the bed and sit close. He had the iPad with him and soon placed it in my lap for me to see the full story listing of Tails of the Veils in condensed format and narrowed down to only Dave Potter stories for me to quickly to put my finger as a bulge of the dress on ‘My Purdah Journey‘ in the middle of the page which made the story page open. Roger took over and slowly scrolled down through the story, stopping at each picture and us enjoying them for a little while, until reaching the picture showing me. I then pointed from the picture and two paragraphs down for Roger to say
“The caption says what I couldn’t remember: Masked in a mukena, the standard indoor wear in Batwarsak. The latter name is a remote village in the North West Frontier province of Pakistan and mukena is the name of the sack like piece of clothes you have realised so successfully. The text following reads:
In the sitting room was sat my aunt, still wearing her mukena, but this time with a mask like ours. Seeing her and my cousin dressed in mukena and mask, totally anonymous to the world, I realised what Munira had meant months before when she had said that women often used the patterns and colours of their mukenas to identify each other, for there was now no other way and with a pang of dismay, I realised that I too was now a turquoise mukena and mask and nothing more to anyone who would meet me from now on.
Stood next to my aunt was another figure, also dressed in a mukena and mask, although this time all in grey. Also, she had her hands free, for a pair of grey woollen gloves peeped out from under the upper folds of the garment. As we entered, one of those hands extracted itself fully and motioned for us to sit down next to Aunt Samira, who then rubbed her masked face against each of us in turn, an action that I now realised was the common greeting for women in full purdah. Then, the new woman started writing on a blackboard which she held up for us to read.
My name is Amina, I’m your maid. Welcome back Miss Munira and welcome for the first time Miss Leyla. It is nice to meet you. I have made breakfast.
It’s a wonderful passage. What Leyla laments is what we love: women who are turned into nothing more than a mask and a dress. I’ll certainly re-read this story very soon, now with a vivid knowledge of the mukena, but it’s very long and we have a carnival to catch. We are in no hurry though. Compared with last night the streets were empty when I was out to get breakfast. We have agreed that the daily The Best Masked Costume Contents at three o’clock this afternoon is the only part of the official program this weekend to interest us, so let’s stick to our plans from home and just go out and enjoy the street life a little after noon. Until then I’ll read one or two shorter stories for you and your wonderful outfit from yesterday and the long questioning process to find out which story you have copied makes me want to start with ‘Last Day in Riyadh.’ Please let your masked chin touch mine while I read.
Simone lifted up her niqaab and slipped the last forkful of couscous into her waiting mouth. She was sad; this was her last meal on her last day in Riyadh.
But it was to be the very first in the new life of Fatima.
She could not have been happier.”
We faced each other and Roger embraced me and kissed my mask on both mouth and cheeks. Then I leaned over him to be able to make my hand through the fabric get between his legs. He was as ready as I was. Sensing my hand made him say
“It has to be in mukena, or rather mukena top to be realistic. I don’t think you can get out of the bottom without first getting out of the top, so I’ll roll over and face down and away until you pat me. Then please lie down on your back and put your hand on your shoulders or your chest inside the top to mimic that your arms are sealed in.”
A minute later we were engaged in sex. I will only quote Leyla as she in the story commented her wedding night: ‘ It is enough to say that it lived up to my expectations’.
After resting we had lunch, which for both of us were the same as breakfast, with me still dressed in mukena top. Because it was only the top I had it seated opposite Roger at the table for him to see nothing but the mukena of me.
After lunch I went to the bathroom to remove the mukena and replace the scarf I had worn over the lower face, in case Roger would see my head without mukena, with a niqab with only one, but less transparent than normal, eye layer I had selected as something that only made my eyes visible in direct light while not reducing my sight much. And in addition I had first put on some fresh black makeup around my eyes. With the face covered by a niqab and the rest of the body covered by the thermal suit it was all right to be with Roger for us to help each other with putting on our costumes, but when seeing me he asked
“Am I right you only wear one niqab eye layer?”
I took the post-it block and wrote:
I have asked for permission to wear just this one layer with the carnival mask to be able to enjoy all the other masked people, which is what you have paid so much for us to see, but due to the strange coincidence with the maid’s name I never really got an answer.
After reading Roger immediately said
“Your mukena has put me in a very good mood. For today you get my permission. But as your note says: it’s with the carnival mask. Put it on instantly for your eyes to be covered with its meshes as well. You may lift the mask if required to complete your dressing though. Have you quenched your thirst completely? This mask has no drinking hole and I won’t allow you to lift your mask or remove or loosen any part of your costume before you are back here.”
I showed him a flexible plastic tube which I took up under my niqab to thread into the drinking hole of my gag, and then I put on the mask for the tube to be forced to follow the contour of my chin and end at the front of my neck just below the mask. The end of the tube was made to fit airtight with a straw, and the closure of the coif left room for a straw to reach the tube. We then dressed together helping each other until both showing as when Roger first opened the door to me yesterday.
Finally Roger spoke masked to surprise us both with a low muffled voice which could just as well have been that of a veiled woman wearing something thick over her mouth to suppress the female shrillness
“Are you ready? Wow, this is going to be a really interesting and educational experience for me learning how it is to be fully covered and masked like you, and then in addition to some extend sound like a veiled woman. The latter won’t teach me anything about you though, who has always observed voice modesty towards me. With your dress not made for carrying anything it’s good that my jacket has pockets on the inside. I’ll bring my camera, my wallet and a notepad for you.”
From home we had found out that walking to the Rialto Bridge and from there to the centre of everything in Venice, the Piazzo San Marco, would be a good start for seeing the old Venice and pass where most of the costumed people would be. It was crowded everywhere to allow nothing but the gentle stroll with plenty of stops to enjoy a view or a particularly beautiful costume which such costumes required.
I won’t go into detail with what we experienced this afternoon. Venice is to be seen, and Venice at Carnival is even more impossible to describe in words. The best I can do is to give you some pictures. If publishing my account then please put the photos marked ‘Saturday’ here.
Being a modest and submissive type being on display and posing for a large crowd isn’t me, but wanting to view all the other masked people you have to reciprocate and give them a show as well. In the beginning I imagined I was posing for Roger only, although he in reality was right next to me facing the same camera, but after a couple of times he had told me to copy someone we had just watched I became, in my own view at least, rather good at the Venetian style of acting, which is a sort of mime where you change between different poses very, very slowly. It also helped that Roger told me just to relax and remember that the play we were doing didn’t have any script, and if I did something wrong we were both totally anonymous.
Late in the afternoon it is common, and much needed after walking for hours, to find a café or bar for something refreshing, and during the Carnival also to get air on a face which very well might be sweaty after being closely covered by a mask for some hours, to perhaps get the face wiped, and for many to chat just to hear their own voice again after an unaccustomed long period of refraining from speaking or speaking little, low and muffled through the mask. Venice has a world famous café, which has its fame for both being centuries old and situated on the Piazza San Marco, named Caffé Florian, but first it’s almost impossible to get seats in the afternoon during Carnival, second of course the prices are exorbitant, so we followed a good tourist guide advice to get much better value for the money in the side streets behind the square.
Sitting was more needed than drinking as we had drunk lemonade mid afternoon and the temperature was below ten, being helped by the sun though, so Roger ordered coffee for us both. The waitress just nodded when he asked for a straw. Unusual requests are probably common during Carnival where the city is filled with strangers. Although all the guests probably had experienced a lot of exciting moments to talk about it’s much easier to chat about what can be seen right now than saying ‘ what do you think of the costumes of the couple we watched for a while some hundred metres down that canal starting to the right of San Marco, wasn’t it about a quarter to three?’ I seemed to be the only one not having removed my mask for me to be the subject of several groups around us making guesses as to why: Simply being ugly; not wanting to be seen with my companion, my face had been burnt or otherwise disfigured; but the the most guesses was that I was male and didn’t want be recognised as such for Roger’ sake. There are an overwhelming number of female costumes to be seen and many couples wear female costumes that are similar or matching. When adding to this the costumes typically are loose dresses with wide shoulders and loose upper arms like my own it can’t be seen if it’s male or female curves inside. I found some photos of the costumes I had rented on Flickr dating a few years back with the names Nathalie and Laurence connected with the costumes of Roger and me respectively. With Nathalie being a female only name it was a she in a male costume for sure, but with Laurence being both a male and female name the person wearing my costume could be both.
After a little while Roger made me aware that there was actually one more person in the café still masked sitting at the opposite end of the room in the darkest corner. He or she was with one in a similar costume. Both costumes were feminine but the one masked more so than the other, and with the companion unmasked there was no doubt he was male. We had in fact passed them at the seabank where Roger had photographed them; a picture he now showed me in his camera (ed. note: the last photo above). Roger zoomed in on the picture to make me see that the one still masked had her eyes covered like me but with black tulle instead of meshes; something I, with my eyes further covered by a niqab had missed when first seeing them. The man with the masked woman had noticed we were taking interest in them and when seeing Roger showing me their picture he held up his camera and gestured for us to come and have a look for him apparently to have a photo of us as well. Before getting to see the photo the couple seated opposite were kind enough to suggest changing seats, to which I immediately made a nod to Roger because the man looked clearly Arab, and although costumes allowed people to take on any role both theirs had a turban.
After having fetched our cups Roger exchanged cameras with the man, and after an appreciative expression and nodding to each other they both handed the camera on and then the man faced Roger and said in fluent English with a slight accent
“My name is Rashed bin Abdullah al-Ouda from Saudi Arabia, please just call me Rashed, and I’m accompanied by my wife Aseel. I didn’t invite you here only because we have photographed each other, but also because few stay masked in a café, and because of that we’ve been observing you to find that unlike the others we’ve observed during our week long stay here the communication between the two of you seems to be without words from the masked part. With the muffling of the masks anonymising both personality and sex the risk of being recognised from speaking is very small. This to be further minimised by keeping the voice low, and the chance of having met a dumb person is even less, so we think there is a more interesting reason in your case. Especially my wife would like to know because she is an anthropologist professionally doing research in the evolution in the role of women in the tribes of the Arabian peninsula, which of course includes veiling, but privately she is also interested in both male and female veiling and masking traditions from all over the world, which is why we are here now. We are very liberal being Saudi agreeing that Islam doesn’t say veiling is mandatory, but my wife despite this follows the traditions of her tribe in which women don’t show to or socialise with men for me to speak for her in a situation like this.”
Hearing this I was glad I was masked or my face would have shown an enthusiasm so great it might have scared off the Arab couple. Even though there no doubt are many at the Venice Carnival being more than normally interested in masking or veiling, because of the large number of people here actually getting in contact with some of them is close to pure chance I would say; and then this in addition was an Arab couple where the woman veiled as part of her normal lifestyle!
I prayed in my mind that Roger would handle this for us to get better acquainted with them, and to my contentment he did just right by turning his head towards the wife but looking down in the right manner to speak to a woman who refrained from speaking to men and said
“I think you are right that my partner stays masked for a reason that will interest you Mrs. Aseel. Showing here in a costume that fulfils your tribal traditions for covering but is far from Islamic I think I won’t offend you by saying that veiling and masking is a fetish for my partner and me. We fantasise about veiled women with me wanting to be with one and her liking being fully covered. We are both members of a Yahoo Group called Veiled Beauty where we started an internet friendship and we are enthusiastic followers of a website called Tales of the Veils filled with veiling fantasies. Last summer the two of us met for a weekend to live out our fantasies in real life for the first time and this weekend in Venice we repeat it. We call each other Roger and Laura this weekend, but neither is aware of the real identity of the other.”
Finished speaking Roger lifted his head to face Rashed, whose expression was just polite interest, but to my relief he didn’t indicate that he was offended in any way either. Aseel though immediately got up to walk around the table, and for a moment I was worried that she would walk out on us, but she walked around us to come to my side away from Roger and bow down to with the muffling of a mask in a low just perceivable voice speak directly at my ear to say
“I am a member of Veiled Beauty as well under the name aseel_sa and I love following Tales of the Veils too. It was when growing up to discover that veiling wasn’t the norm in most of the world, in fact mainly looked down on even in some Saudi social circles, that learning the background of our own traditions began to interest me, and getting into the subject I found out covering with veils or masks existed all over the world for a variety of reasons, and like you I fantasised; me about being a Japanese Noh actor, even though they are male, or a nineteenth century woman of Lima, Peru, out on a secret visit. My only demand for a husband was that he would like to visit the Venice Carnival with me, and here we are for the third time. If you don’t mind I would very much like to know about your fantasies, both because some of them might appeal to me personally but just as much for learning why veiling appeals to a woman who isn’t brought up with it or does it for religious reasons I assume. If I can get an insight in what formed your personality that would teach me something about how our traditional societies have, without realising it, formed women to adhere to our veiling customs. But all that can wait if you will give me an email address. Right now I can offer you, and Roger, a very real fantasy by loaning you a traditional outfit from my hometown and telling you a little of how it is used.”
I was dumbfounded and reacted instantly by first getting up to embrace Aseel and then in an impolite manner interrupt the conversation between Roger and Rashed to gesture to Roger for the notepad on which I then wrote
I am yours for friendship and research. While here I’m dressing up in a number of veiling outfits in our hotel room when not walking the streets in this costume. I would love to borrow the outfit from your hometown. Laura a.k.a. firstname.lastname@example.org
I nodded when Aseel indicated she would keep the note and then she put her masked mouth to my ear again and said
“I can see that Roger and Rashed are getting along well enough to suggest we have dinner together, which we can have without us revealing our face or voice to the men. Then the two of us can go to our suite for the clothes from where we continue to your hotel for you to put it on and learn about each layer. Meanwhile the men can do as they like until such time as it is okay for them to come to your room and Rashed follow me back. I have just one condition: You now come with me to the restroom to unmask for me to be a hundred percent sure I won’t end up alone in a room with a strange man.”
With myself now knowing of several examples where the gender of a costumed person wasn’t clear the condition was fully justified and I gestured to Roger while Aseel went to say something to Rashed that made him say
“We have already agreed to have dinner together girls. I was just about to make a call for a reservation at the private apartment at Harry’s Bar. If we aim at just freshening up at our hotels to be there in about forty-five minutes I think there is a good chance it’s available as it’s before normal dinner time and more often occupied long into the night than early. I think we are all hungry after a long day in the streets and by dining early we have a long evening to discuss clothing or explore the nightlife.”
Aseel and I nodded and left the men. While I removed my head covering and mask Aseel said
“I think you understand I won’t uncover to you in here, and how much you are going to see of me later depends on how close we get.”
I nodded that I understood and noticed her body twitch when I removed my mask to show a face in niqab, and her next words showed she was aware of her reaction
“I shouldn’t be surprised of you covering your eyes much more than normal for when wearing a Venetian mask, but I haven’t noticed as my sight is poor from doing it myself.”
During her words I had removed the niqab to make it clear that what covered the rest of my head now wasn’t a headscarf. This time there was no twitching though when she continued, she said
“No, leave the hood on please. These blue eyes, red lips and a black ball gag unmistakably belong to a woman, and besides the chest when you embraced me felt very female as well, but you can’t be completely sure with the quality of artificial add-ons these days. Please cover again. When Roger said ‘fetish’ I guessed you were gagged. You both like to play those characters in the stories of Tales of the Veils that end up with the heroine fully covered in several layers and gagged, don’t you? And in addition when living out your fantasies with a man to whom you won’t reveal your identity showing very little skin and being gagged is helpful. I see you are able to drink masked, but you can have solid food as well if coming to the restaurant as now where I am going to eat showing similar to you in niqab and headscarves. When at the restaurant you and Roger can then decide if the conditions are for you to remove the Venetian mask and head covering. Well, one thing has to be changed: the gag has to be strapped on top of the hood instead of going inside it.”
When we left the restroom the men were already masked and awaiting for us to start walking to our hotels immediately. We walked together about half the distance to our hotel. Back in our room Roger immediately removed his mask to say
“I’ll just need five minutes in the bathroom first. Just enjoy the meal, order what you like and don’t praise anything just because it’s expensive. Rashed is what we expect a Saudi to be: A wealthy internationally educated business man not having to care the least about expenses for ten days in Venice during Carnival, which means everything is on him as long as we are together. He also likes Stoke so much he has considered investing in it even though he is aware of it will be more a contribution. You are aware of that Harry’s Bar is almost as famous as Caffé Florian and just as expensive with this ‘private apartment’ probably costing extra. And they stay in a suite at the Hotel Casanova which was one I dropped due to the price level of even the cheapest rooms.”
Being invited for dinner by a sheikh at one of the most expensive restaurants in Venice I wished I could change into something that looked more expensive but I couldn’t change anything, not even my underwear, the thermal suit. With little time all I could do was wash my face and hands, use more perfume than I usually did and make up my face for Aseel to see I had dressed up for the dinner if I would show to her again. But it soothed me that their costumes, although better than ours, were not of expensive fabrics or with extraordinary adornments. While washing I also decided to put on both a black forehead scarf and a second large black headscarf to cover the hood and have my head show like a Muslim.
Aseel and Rached outside Harry’s Bar
The waitress at Harry’s Bar
Harry’s Bar is located in a street along the Grand Canal and Roger immediately spotted Rashed and Aseel awaiting us by admiring the view from a small pier. Inside a waiter recognised them and suggested they were also modest in wearing the same costume more than one day. He fetched a waitress, who seemed to be specially assigned to wait on us. The staff was dressed up for the occasion, which for the waiters most showed by them wearing black domino masks, but the waitresses in addition to a white domino mask with attached lace veil also wore a Renaissance style dress.
We were taken up to the first floor and to a door at the back of the last public room, into a small corridor and finally the room at the end of it. It could have been the small dining room of a ‘private apartment’ in a smaller palace or patrician house originating back to when Venice was a world centre of commerce. But what immediately struck you was that the room was split in two, or was two rooms, separated by a wall made of leaded window panes which included the door. The furniture was the same on both sides but the table was longer in the front half to have six chairs whereas the back half only had four. On entering the room Rashed had removed his mask for Roger to copy while Rashed said
“I’ve been told that in the old days the back half of this dining room was used by the men when discussing matters they didn’t want to spread through their wives or who else was present at the meal. Now you women can chat in there, as it’s almost completely soundproof, while still having visual contact with us. Further with a waitress and not completely clear windows, you are separated enough from us for Aseel to be seen in a niqab with just one eye layer, and I suggest that you Roger permit Laura to do likewise and speak as well. Just remember Laura to refrain from speaking while the waitress is with you and with that the door open and of course she is going to knock and await a signal from you before opening it.”
Roger had nodded to me when Rashed suggested I showed as Aseel. Now the men got seated while Aseel and I entered the back room and started to remove our masks and the head coverings of the costumes. In a short while the waitress stood in the doorway waiting to hand us a menu each after we had been seated, but Aseel gestured her to put them on the table and leave.
Soon our heads showed black and I reached up at the back of my head to unbuckle my gag and seconds later I spoke for the first time in Venice to say
“Thank you very much for the dinner invitation Aseel. If not being invited here I would have liquidated food all weekend. Well, we had lasagne in our room yesterday and I took some bites in the bathroom before blending it. You don’t speak to men either as I understood Rashed but you don’t wear a gag?”
My question isn’t immediately answered because Aseel has meanwhile emptied a plastic bag on the table to instead of answering me say
“Back at the hotel I re-read your note to enter your mail address in my laptop. You have my full address when checking your mail. Your note says you wear veiling outfits when not out in the streets, and reading that it came to me you shouldn’t divert more from your normal practise this evening than speaking so I brought some Muslim clothing. They are two identical floor length butterfly style overhead abayas and a niqab identical to the one I wear for us to appear completely identical. It has the advantage for both of us that the men soon refrain from keeping an eye on us, because there is nothing to see but two identical black figures eating, and they won’t know who is who. Besides, although we get napkins, if we stain our clothes it’s not the fine costume being rented and to be displayed when leaving here.”
The clothing made me excited to say
“These are wonderful high quality items with satin trim on both the abaya and the niqab, and even the elbow length mittens are satin. Then regarding the outer layer perhaps I am going to play you when back in Saudi Arabia, but perhaps I am just an excuse for you to play a Western veil fetishist dressing up as a strict Saudi woman.”
Aseel answered after thinking about my words
“How close these items bring you to play a traditionally dressed woman of my tribe you’ll find out later on. But regarding me you take it too far. It is right I like to play with costumes, but it’s my carnival costume and seeing others in costume that makes me imagine I’m a Renaissance woman. What we put on now makes me think of home, but it’s all right I have more than a week for playing here, you only have a weekend.”
While speaking Aseel had also elegantly reached up into the hood opening of her abaya to open the head band of her niqab, take it out of the hood opening and close the head band again on the outside to fix the hood and finally close the abaya neck opening under her chin. I copied her, but probably much less elegantly, and when having pulled my niqab out I replaced it with the one she had provided. Its single eye layer was more transparent than the one I had removed. We then put on the mittens with a separate thumb on top of the costume gloves and dress sleeves to only show black when only showing our forearms through the hand slits of the abaya. Finally Aseel looked through the window to check neither of the men was observing us right now before seating herself opposite her husband with this being the most proper in this situation with the window wall for her to first see him when looking through the window and having to turn ninety degrees to see Roger. Seating myself opposite her I then got the same most proper sight. Immediately following there was a knocking and the waitress handed each of us a menu. I took a quick browse and then said
“You have been here before Aseel, is there something you would recommend?”
“I think the minestrone soup is good, but when having the chance you should of course choose something more solid. Beef Carpaccio is a dish invented here.”
I looked over my left shoulder to ask the waitress in the doorway
“What have the men chosen Miss?”
“Scampi all’Armoricaine for antipasti and beef Carpaccio as the main course Madam.”
We both chose the same as the men and for drinking as well. Then I said to Aseel
“It was most considerate of you of bringing this clothing. First modest Muslim clothing is more me than a costume, even if with a mask, meant for posing for an audience. Second now I don’t deviate from what Roger and I agreed from home for me to play a Muslim woman when not walking the streets. I think I can return some of the favour, but just like you won’t say anything about your traditional clothing before coming to my room, I won’t say anymore before I can show you. Now tell me where you learned your excellent English and if you have been to other events of masking or veiling than Carnival here.”
Over the next hour Aseel told me that she had studied anthropology at the University of London but had written all her papers on subjects of Arab women. Now she worked for the Michigan State University’s department in Dubai because anthropology is banned in Saudi Arabia, and for her sake Rashed now runs his business from there when not in London where they had an apartment. She told me about the Noh performances they had seen in Osaka, Japan, and some of the places she had visited in North Africa and on the Arabian Peninsula where veiling traditions many decades old still persisted. I had to admit it put the otherwise wonderful food somewhat to the background, and none of us glanced into the men’s half for me not to say if they took interest in us. All I could contribute to the conversation was a detailed account of our weekend in Snowdonia, where I nonetheless omitted when our playing had led to the most intimate contact, and what I liked at Tales of the Veils other than the stories presented in Snowdonia, but Aseel’s elaborating questions showed me her genuine interest.
It surprised us both when after a knocking on the door there was no waitress to be seen but both Roger and Rashed tapping their left wrist. We quickly removed the mittens and the overhead abaya, I put on my gag for which the waitress had brought a bowl of water and soon we were both masked and in full costume. I discovered the time wasn’t eight yet to imply the night was luckily still young due to us having dined early. Joining the men Rashed, now also masked, said
“It’s time for us to separate even more than in here. There is a guided tour in the footsteps of Casanova especially directed to men at half past eight which we aim at joining. Would you like us to be back with you at around half past ten or more like around eleven?”
Aseel put her mouth to Rashed’s ear for him to say
“No earlier than eleven Aseel says. Do we all agree?”
I clearly nodded twice and Roger said
“Rashed has told me he subscribes to a site streaming all Premier League matches if we very unlikely get bored of Venice, so eleven is fine with me.”
The men accompanied us about half the way to the hotel of Rashed and Aseel. Entering their suite I, despite I would have had a better sight by first removing the mask, had to first look around. The suite I would call a luxurious apartment had just the right mix of fine old hand crafted furniture and decoration and modern appliances that matched the old style. After I had walked around the living area Aseel led me into the bedroom, which of course was a separate room, while saying muffled by her mask
“Regarding the clothes you are to borrow we could just as well have walked directly to your hotel because I’ve already packed it in a bag, but I thought you would like to come here and have a look, not only at the surroundings but more so at my wardrobe, as I wear Saudi style clothing and veil in everyday life no matter where in the world.”
During her last words she opened three of the four doors in a large cupboard to make it look to me as if I had entered an abaya shop. There were all kinds of abayas from those for weddings and other festive occasions with lots of embroidery in gold or silver to plain, but still high quality, and butterfly and overhead or both. Black was of course very dominating, but there were a dozen coloured abayas as well. After my first look at this abundance Aseel said
“You are welcome to take anything out and unfold it, tidying up is included in the price of a suite like this. I’m sorry for you that you can’t touch anything directly with your fingers, as I have the impression it means you have to undress completely, so instead I think you should remove the costume head covering, the mask and the niqab to have a clear sight and then you can take the clothes to your cheek to feel the fabric. As we are going to leave in a little while I’m going to stay masked and without a tube like yours for drinking I can’t, but if you would like something don’t hesitate to say so.”
Although the niqab of Aseel, which I was still wearing, was more transparent than my own with the mesh of the mask added my sight was still dark, somewhat blurred, and unfit for enjoying the details of the fine clothing, so I removed the costume head covering and the mask but kept on the niqab to only flip back the eye layer for clear sight. Then I took out a black abaya with gold embroidery and went to the full length mirror to hold it up in front of me. Although this item might be for a wedding to be displayed in a women only environment where very likely the niqab had been removed me wearing a niqab was in my view a better match for any of the abaya’s than my pale face. When I took out the second abaya, a very conservative butterfly overhead type with no decorations at all as opposed to the one we had on while dining, Aseel said
“I have all sorts of Saudi style Muslim clothing because I wear everything that is sufficiently modest to me and not too far from the clothing traditions of our tribe which I highly regard. Even in private I never show more than the minimum requirement for a Muslim woman, namely hands, feet and face. In public the basic colour is always black and I’m veiled, but I don’t cover my eyes in the West or in most situations at work, and gloves are not a must for me either. I only speak to men where it’s professionally necessary though, but to answer an earlier question of yours, I never wear a gag. My upbringing has taught me to generally stay silent in the company of men and think very carefully before I choose to speak. Apart from that I try to blend in as much as possible where I stay. In Dubai and London I wear fashionable abayas, in North Africa plain outfits and in my hometown our traditional clothes. When in the field as anthropologist you get closer to the people you are studying if you dress like them.”
I hadn’t removed my gag, despite it’s of course still strapped on top of my thermal suit hood, to just give Aseel a nod now and then, mostly while putting an item back in the cupboard, so after about twenty minutes I had to realise that if I should take a closer look at everything I wanted to in this cupboard I would still be here when Rashed wanted to go to bed, I just gesticulated and tapped my left wrist to which Aseel said
“Yes, we better get on. As time goes by I’m getting more and more curious about what you have for me.”
While I masked and put on the coif and hat my anticipations increased as well by Aseel taking a plastic bag even more filled than that she had brought for dinner.
To say we walked fast was a bit strong because we respected the costumes, but it was much faster than the gentle strolling of the afternoon and without stops to reach my hotel in less than ten minutes.
We immediately both started to remove the costume head covering and the mask to show a black covered head with a niqab covered face where we both flipped the eye layer back for me for the first time to see the eyes of Aseel. I admired her very pretty kohl lined brown eyes which looked younger than I would expect for someone working as scientist while she said
“Just to speak with you I could have stayed in full costume, but first the mask is rather warm on the face and we have about two hours here, second I assume I am allowed to see some of the outfits you show for Roger and would like to be able to see them in detail, but most important I need some coffee to be fully on my toes for the rest of the evening. What would you like? And may I use the room phone?”
I had meanwhile removed my gag as well to say
“Yes, coffee would be nice. In Italy caffé latte is the right way to have coffee. I better make the call.”
Aseel shook her head and produced a gold credit card to call, order and emphasise that it shouldn’t go on the bill but would be paid on delivery. Meanwhile I had considered how I should present to Aseel what I would offer her just with the result that I said
“If you would tell me something more about the clothes I’m going to borrow I may better be able to decide when it’s the right moment for what I have for you.”
Aseel in an enthusiastic voice said
“It is now! I feel like when Rashed has said it’s time for lovemaking and then a friend of his call for them to talk for long. But let me start far away from Saudi Arabia with asking you what you know about the veiling of Gor, the fictional planet described by John Norman in a series of book with the enslavement of woman as the main theme? It has been discussed briefly in Veiled Beauty long time ago.”
Before I get to answer there is a knock on the door and we get our coffee. When soon after we both sit down to drink each at a corner of the small table with the television, it makes me aware of that we both still wear niqab. I wear mine to at least to some degree follow my agreement with Roger, which I originally made myself, of being a veiled Muslim when not out in the streets, although if being with him now I would both be gagged and have my eyes covered. Regarding Aseel she had been very vague about promising something when I showed her my face in the restroom of the café where we got acquainted, but now it occurred to me that what I had for her may very well make it happen naturally. After we had both drunk a little coffee I said
“Yes, because of the veiling I have read one of his books, but I didn’t like it and it only contained a few passages with veiling. Women not owned by a man are called free women and those of high caste show their status by covering in layers of robes and veils not to show an inch of flesh to others than close family as far as I remember. A system of five veils were described on internet pages about Gor but, at least in the book I read, there wasn’t any detailed descriptions of how the veiled women looked in the different social situations.”
“I don’t like the books much either, even though desert settings are frequent and the societies often resemble the Middle East before Western influence. I think John Norman has studied a lot of literature about the Middle East and somehow, perhaps by talking to some of the few Westerners who travelled there before World War I, because it isn’t described in any books printed in large numbers as far as I know, he has learned about the traditional veiling of our tribe. It consists as in his universe of five social circles of veiling, and as with the free women of Gor in our tribe when a woman moves from a more private social situation to a more public one she puts on a new veil and a new layer of body covering on top of what she already wears. Translated to English our five levels of veiling and clothing are called the Intimate Veil, the Family Veil, the Female Veil, the Male Veil and the Public Veil respectively. As you won’t satisfy my curiosity right away I suggest a deal: You are allowed to start dressing now and when wearing the Intimate Veil you show me what you have promised.”
After having figured out that I might gain from fulfilling my promise I was about to do it now, but with Aseel not minding to wait for me first starting getting my promise fulfilled I said
“We have a deal. Please hand me the clothing of the Intimate Veil.”
Reaching down in the plastic bag Aseel said
“Even if you are a lover of Arab female clothing you are not an Arab in your mind. With me suggesting I got my promise after you get one set of clothing I had expected you protested to say after four sets and then we could haggle and argue for some time about if it should have ended up with after two or three. – Here you are, I know it doesn’t satisfy your normal requirements to cover all of your skin; there is a reason it is named the Intimate Veil after all.”
It was true, the Turkish style baggy trousers were not completely opaque and the sleeves of the long loose shirt were even more transparent, but worst of all the only covering for the head was a sheer lower face veil which made me say
“You are right Aseel, especially the veil doesn’t hide much. With only this Roger would easily be able to recognise my face if stumbling over it on the internet or coming near where I live. But I have a solution for this. I have another body suit made of flesh coloured spandex which, except for the missing facial features, won’t make my appearance that different from showing the real body, especially as I have a wig as well; even one with long dark hair to depict an Oriental woman. Unfortunately the idea of borrowing this ensemble is to undress for Roger and with the spandex suit only having a slit for a straw at the mouth I have to put the ball gag on before the suit to have to communicate with you through notes for the rest of the evening. Also this step is going to take longer than I had expected with me having to go to the bathroom and change. That is good news for you though, because then you have some time to yourself to look at my wardrobe – and what I have for you to try on and perhaps borrow is a costume I think will fuel your imagination!”
With this I opened the cupboard with Aseel right behind me. I found the plastic bag coded with Ro and turned until I was facing Aseel to say
“You may open all the bags and take everything out, but please put the items in one bag back before opening another as I have to be able to find what I need to act for Roger tomorrow morning. What I had in mind for you is in the bag marked Ln and that you don’t have to put it back as I would only have worn it if Roger asked for it.”
Aseel’s eyes were already looking behind me into the cupboard as she absentminded said Yes for me to leave her.
When I came out from the bathroom the contents of bag Ln was spread out on the bed and Aseel was leaning over the bed to hold her hands into a muff attached to a crimson velvet Renaissance gown. I had brought the Moretta costume that was the last I showed in for Roger in the cottage in Snowdonia and which made him invite me here. But I would rather not wear it out in the streets as it would attract an attention on a scale that I wouldn’t like with us constantly being surrounded by people asking questions to prevent us from enjoying other masks and costumes. The reason for this is that the Moretta mask is included in all descriptions of classical Venetian masks but no one wears it anymore due to its protrusion going into the mouth and muting the wearer. Too few accept to be gagged despite with the Moretta the protrusion also holds the mask for it to be without ties and to be worn on top of the head covering thus being easy to take off and put on.
Aseel was so preoccupied with the costume that she had not heard me coming and I had to knock a cupboard door to get her attention. But then she rushed to give me a tight hug while saying
“Laura, ‘Moretta‘ is my favourite tale at Tales of the Veils and you have an exact copy of the public costume of Giulia, the main character! I like many of the other tales at Tales of the Veils as well, but to me the many stories set in the Middle East or with niqabs and abayas are too close to my own life to be exotic and exciting in the way I assume they are to others. Masked in the Renaissance gives me the wildest dreams, but the tales from especially Jorea and also Vippon itself makes my imagination fly as well.”
We separated and she took a better look at me before continuing
“When facing you, for a second you surprised me, as I thought I had seen my cousin here in Venice. You were right about the spandex suit. It has just the right colour for a natural look at first glance. The family of my hometown, and almost everybody else there as well, wouldn’t like any changes to the traditional clothing, but Rashed, who is from another tribe far away, wouldn’t mind me showing like you at times when he don’t want to be distracted by my face exciting him.
In the Gor universe each of the five veils are quite closely connected with the rooms of a high caste house for the Intimate Veil, which there is named the First Veil, only to be shown in the master bedroom, the next veil, with the Gor name the Privacy Veil, to be shown in the rest of the private chambers and so on. In our tradition the primary thing is who is present. Only your husband, parents, co-wives and children below puberty are to see you wearing the Intimate Veil. Thus if living in an extended family where more adult sons live together with their parents their wives can’t show the Intimate Veil during the day, for it to be the dress on display in the bedroom only, and most sleep in it as well. It is made for that, as you no doubt have noticed that the trousers have no crotch. Wearing the Intimate Veil through the night also means that husbands seeing their wives unveiled and with naked body is an infrequent occurrence, although for the face it’s merely symbolic of course. Are you ready for the Family Veil?”
I nodded for Aseel to go and take the bag she had brought. Her not having the next set of clothing ready for me showed she had spent all the time while I changed absorbed by the Moretta costume. When she hands over some more black items to me I point from them to myself and then from the gown on the bed to Aseel to make her say
“Yes, I would very much like to try it on, but being allowed to borrow it I would rather wait until coming back to my hotel and perhaps first wear it tomorrow. The satin scarf goes on top of your current veil. The cotton scarf is to be tied across the forehead and has to completely confine the hair. She slit between the scarves should be wider than I assume you would make it.”
I didn’t agree with Aseel, pointed to the Moretta gown and found a piece of paper for her to read over my shoulder while I wrote
I’m sure you really would like to wear it for days but I’m leaving late tomorrow afternoon so every hour counts. I’m also sure you would like to sleep in it and that is perfectly all right, I have done it myself for several nights, but with Rashed it might be better to remove the gown for the night to just wear the head covering, the Moretta itself and whatever clothes on the body you or Rashed choose – a thin abaya is not that far from a Renaissance chemise except for the colour. The reason I won’t use the Moretta outfit is that a Moretta is so rare that showing it in the streets would make you the centre of attention tenfold what your current costume do, which I guess is against your beliefs, and too much for me as well. But for going from here to your hotel tonight I think would be okay with the veil of the costume to obscure the Moretta.
You need more space for changing than I do so I’ll go to the bathroom again. Knock when you are sufficiently covered for showing to me.
With that I left immediately to stop any objections from Aseel. The items of the Family Veil were straight forward to put on following Aseel’s instructions and consisted in addition to the two scarves only a plain standard abaya and a pair of socks to which I added a pair of slippers. The most difficult was to get the hair of the wig rolled up into a bun and get it fitted under the forehead scarf. When everything was on I looked at myself in the mirror and started imagining who I was allowed to show to in this Family Veil, expecting Aseel to take longer to change.
My mind was far away in Saudi Arabia when the door was knocked. It didn’t surprise me that Aseel had waited until she wore everything before knocking. I faced Giulia and not Aseel. She even wore the lace eye mask, which Giulia invented at the end of the story, and the outer black tulle veil, but flipped back to show the Moretta in full. After I had been allowed to take the sight of her in for a little while she turned sideways towards me, with her hands in the muff neither able to speak nor gesture, to make me move out to the window for her to enter the bathroom very eager to see herself in the mirror.
While waiting for Aseel I sipped the rest of my now cold coffee which proved to be a little more difficult than I was used to from wearing niqabs, both because the scarf covering my mouth being tied below the eyes is tighter around the chin than a niqab and then you have to get under the sheer veil beneath as well. It took almost five minutes before Aseel returned. She directly fronted me while pulling her gloved hands out of the muff to point at her left glove. The thin white leather gloves reached mid forearm with lacing from the wrist up which couldn’t be done by the wearer. Despite this would have been easier before she put on the gown I made her hold her hands up one by one for the sleeve to slide up and laced each glove, which she then couldn’t remove on her own. She didn’t nod to thank me but instead made some small bows for me to find out that she had succeeded in herself putting in the neck corset which held her head straight and nearly prevented all head movement. Aseel immediately went on to take hold of the short chain hanging from the left glove. She wanted me to lock her hands together inside the muff to be a complete Moretta woman fully dependent on a maid or whoever is with her. This made me take hold of the chain with my left hand and point down at her feet with the other to make Aseel make a few short bows again. I had brought everything for this outfit including the short white leather boots which I now confirmed Aseel had chained together to reduce her steps to six inches. Then I answered her request for having her wrists chained by pointing at the bag with the rest of the five veils, next pointing at the lacking mouth of the Moretta and finally mimicking writing while pointing at the wrist chain and shaking my head. Aseel slowly lifted her right hand to her cheek to lift the Moretta off her face and then said
“I have anticipated this and have ruined my niqab to both be able to cover my eyes correctly for the Moretta costume with its lace eye mask and covering my lower face reasonably considering the protrusion of the Moretta must be able to enter my mouth. You now wear the Family Veil. This allows you to show to all mahram family and close female friends. Thus with our customs you are normally veiled even in the presence of family and close female friends, but those allowed to see you in the Family Veil are also allowed to see your face at certain occasions following some rules too complicated to explain now. Correctly following our customs I should be veiled now like you to only show you my eye area, as I did before. Because of you and this wonderful costume I’ve both made a compromise with my tribal customs and elevated you to a close friend so soon after we met, so please fulfil my wish and make me fully into Giulia by chaining my wrists and then please don’t stare at me for too long when you take my Moretta off to learn more about our five veils.”
During her last words Aseel had already started taking the Moretta to her face again and from there her hand directly went down to have both hands in the muff. I immediately complied to her wish by getting my right hand into the muff as well, sense the chain and the ring on her right wrist and getting the chain clipped to the ring. Then I gave her a hug to say I appreciated being called a close friend and it was mutual. Separating from her I pointed to the bag with the rest of my veils to realise I had to handle the bag myself from now on, so instead I reached for the Moretta of Aseel to get a small bow for permission to remove it and then she said
“The Female Veil should be the next three items, in that it consists of just a niqab, a khimar and a pair of gloves. The gloves go on top of the sleeves of your abaya and the niqab on top of the khimar, but as you now can dress in here with me I’ll rock if you make a mistake.”
I nodded while masking her again. Then I found the items in the bag and moved over to the bathroom door to dress with a little distance to Aseel for her to see me in full without her having to bow deep. The black cotton gloves reached my elbows. The khimar was waist long. When about to close its neck opening my face scarf got squeezed and I realised that to be able to eat and drink this and the sheer veil underneath had to go on top of the khimar down on the chest. After having fitted the khimar with the veils like this I took hold of the end of the scarf and shook it without any reaction from Aseel. She didn’t rock so I had not made a mistake, or in her mind she was far away in the Renaissance. I just went on with the niqab which didn’t have any eye layers, but was special in that its single opaque layer was attached to the head band in full width and then it had two circular cut-outs for the eyes. Then I went to the bathroom to see how the Female Veil looked. I’m sure it wouldn’t be as intimidating if it showed a pair of lively eyes like Aseel’s instead of the uniform fabric of my spandex suit. With the arms hanging down the now black gloved fingers of my hands just showing to indicate any use of the hands would lift the khimar. I left the bathroom to learn what Aseel had to say about the Female Veil. She still had not moved visibly since I put the Moretta to her face. Perhaps in her mind she was inside the convent to visit her sister and now praying while awaiting the bell that begun the hour the nuns were allowed to communicate. She deserved to dream a little longer so I could, for some minutes, try to imagine my own version of how it was to wear the Female Veil in the hometown of Aseel before disturbing her by removing the Moretta.
When taking my hand to the Moretta I sensed Aseel first stopped clenching the protrusion of the Moretta when her sensing it being pulled, and her first words showed her mind was somewhere else as well as she said
“No thank you Suhaila, I’m filled. – – Oh, sorry Laura, in my mind I was crossing the convent square in the Moretta story, but when being interrupted seeing you and having something lifted from my face made my mind jump to my hometown to see you as my best friend and neighbour there, Suhaila, about to feed me another piece of baklava. It might be the lovely smell of leather from the Moretta that intoxicates me to take my mind away from here as long as it clings to my face. Regarding what you wear the Female Veil is the maximum you dress down outside your own home, implying it is how you show in the female quarters of other homes or places where men are not allowed or won’t be around for some time. You also put on the Female Veil in your own home if to be with women not being qualified as close friends, excluding if having female servants. Not so long ago it was always your guardian who decided who would be your close friends, and that would most often be women of the same status or higher; if their guardians for some reason would allow a close friendship with someone of a lower status being next door neighbours was the most common reason. Now only conservative families stay with this; I can myself choose my close friends. The difference between close friends and other women is very important because close friends are allowed to see you in the Family Veil and as I said before this means they may see your full face on certain occasions. Women in general in our hometown never see more of each other than what is within the eye holes. In my daily life away from my hometown I have chosen to show in niqab – on many situations even to men, which means showing both what the niqab eye slit shows and show my hands, but I still make the distinction between female friends and other people only showing my full face to those who have become friends; in general I’m always veiled. – Back to my first remark: Of course wearing the Female Veil with its khimar you show hands and arms as little as possible and when eating it is normal for a woman of lesser status to show her appreciation of being close friend by feeding you so you can keep your hands hidden by the khimar. Then on to the Male Veil: It’s just a bushiya and then mittens and butterfly overhead abaya like you wore during dinner but plainer. Mask me please.”
I put the Moretta to Aseel’s face to allow her to go back to the convent square or wherever her mind took her. Then I took the items for the Male Veil, the fourth veil. The bushiya was a large piece of black tulle to simply put on top of the head from where it nearly reached down to mid chest to be formed and held in place by the overhead abaya. I think it was the least transparent piece of tulle I had ever worn, but the name the Male Veil had to imply that the wearer was now allowed to be with non-mahram men and so it had to be dense to hide the until now completely uncovered eyes. But I already had my eyes covered by the spandex suit to make the areas directly lit very dark and a lot of the room seemed pitch black. The mittens with a separate thumb, as those at dinner, only reached just above the wrist but the abaya had thumb straps to ensure its hand openings wouldn’t slide up. Again I went to the bathroom to see myself in the mirror. It was well lit but it didn’t make much difference as I looked exactly as I had anticipated from seeing the items before putting them on. Even though the loose batwing style hid all my female form I didn’t like that my hands, although now only showing as mittens, were continually on show. These I could easily hide under the khimar that were the outer layer of the previous veil. I left the bathroom to write this down before removing the Moretta that would turn Giulia back to the Aseel to answer my question.
I removed the Moretta with one hand and held the piece of paper in front of Aseel’s face with the other. After about five seconds she started speaking to say
“The Male Veil allows you to be seen by men, but it doesn’t mean women should ever stay in the same room as men for very long, and with the combination of the bushiya and the abaya effectively preventing access to the mouth neither taking food nor drinking is possible, but for longer periods in the Male Veil, also including the Public Veil, one may carry a bottle under the abaya. The Male Veil is primarily shown by women who are to serve in the majlis where the butterfly style is better than a long khimar which would reveal more below the waist as it would often be lifted. With you now emptying the bag yourself I’m sure you are curious to unfold the Public Veil because you have seen something unusual and you’re right it is unique to our tribe.”
All that was left in the bag was two pieces of the same brown woollen fabric with white stripes. I unfolded both to quickly find out that the ‘sack’ with a brown leather belt attached at one end and with two rather large leather socks attached to the other was a skirt with closed bottom, and then the other part which was a ‘sack’ as well had to be for the upper body and head. I stepped into the skirt without removing my slippers for the feet easily entered the socks, which reached about three inches above my ankles, and then pulled up the skirt to find it was designed to rise higher than my waist with the belt to be buckled just below my chest. With Aseel being about the same build as me it surprised me that I had to use the last hole to get the belt sufficiently tight. Then I lifted the top over my head only to discover I was nearly blind. It had only one opening covered by a flap held open by a small rod just over two inches long but it was placed at eye level for me to turn the top until the flap was over my right eye. My field of vision was now reduced to a little more than a square foot right in front of my feet and combined with my dark vision I would clearly need guiding outside this room. A few inches above the bottom of the top four clips were attached on each side and centred on the front and back respectively having matching rings on the skirt. After a little trouble getting the clip on the back and the ring to catch, the three others went easily despite the mittens and I let my arms relax down the side to sense the tip of my mittens were not far from reaching below the hem, which I found somewhat immodest considering this veil wasn’t suited for work with its limited sight, the hands prevented from being lifted by the top being clipped and also the fabric was rather stiff to make it difficult to grab or hold anything through the fabric. I couldn’t go to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror, so I would directly hear what Aseel had to say about this Public Veil. Of course I was in her field of view but I couldn’t tell if she was again away daydreaming or whether she had seen I had finished dressing. I decided to make her react by stepping forward until meeting her. Just as her gown appeared in my field of view at my feet the gown moved out of my view. A few moments later I heard the voice of Aseel say
“I am not as helpless as you are. By bending my knees and bowing to almost to the horizontal I can get my face down to the bed to place the Moretta there, and more important I can put it to my face again the same way. We now have a problem because with you having clipped the halves of the khymskhyh together you are not wearing it correctly as this can’t be done without helping hands, and conversely if you take the top off to unchain my wrists for me to dress you the right way then you can’t chain me again.”
Apparently we now both considered what to do to make me after a while start shaking my hands and then start unclipping the top for Aseel to say
“You have found a solution? It surprises me because about the only thing you can do in a khymskhyh is move by slowly waddling, but I would be glad if you are right because it would be a shame if one us has to be incomplete for the more than one hour before the men arrive.”
I had removed the top to waddle along the bed to put my mitten covered hand on the room phone while facing Aseel. She said
“Calling room service. Yes, why not. I can ask for a woman and have her call me first to instruct her for me to be masked when she enters. It wouldn’t be too weird as I am after all am wearing a Venetian costume, and you can stay in the bathroom while she is here.”
I nodded and the suddenly got an impulse and went to the table for Aseel to read
Ask if Giulia Andretti is available.
“Giulia Andretti? But that is me! I mean I’m playing Giulia Andretti, the main character of ‘Moretta’. But ‘Moretta’ is a tale – fiction. Do you think Giulia Andretti actually existed to have a descendant named after her?”
Roger didn’t ask her, but it is a strange coincidence. Perhaps so strange there is something to it.
I took my hands to the muff for Aseel to make a light bow and then I unchained her. She immediately reached to my stomach to unbuckle the skirt while saying
“So you didn’t notice the bottom half has an extra layer down each side to just below the waist to form a strap or a bottomless pocket for your forearms?”
I shook my head while now looking at them for a short while before Aseel moved the skirt to invite me to put my arms inside. Now the belt was tightly buckled in on a middle hole while also trapping my arms. The tables had turned and it was now Aseel in control of me. She immediately lifted the top over my head for my sight again to be reduced to a square at my feet while she said
“As I have said a couple of times this is called a khymskhyh which in Arabic is short for ‘personal tent’. When living in tents, women of our tribe virtually lived in a tent their entire life from puberty because wearing this garment when leaving the normal tent because this is made of exactly the same goat hair fabric as used for normal tents. Also the eye opening is a downsized version of the fabric covered opening many tents have to lower the temperature by increasing airflow, and it is meant just as much for this as for seeing. It is constantly debated among liberal families as to how much time the rod holding the flap open can be allowed without risking the wearer seeing too much of the male world; whereas women of conservative families simply put their top half on back to front placing the opening at the back of the head and thus making them completely blind. I think with just us two women alone in a strange room you should not have the top half turned around in case something happens, and besides you can actually keep seeing what I’ll be doing by leaning back to face the ceiling. Just be careful not to lose your balance, and remember a proper woman would rather face down than up. With your hands confined our conversation has already become a monologue by me, and although we have another hour together when I mask again any communication between us practically stops, so I think this is sort of goodbye until we take up mailing each other. It is so wonderful to have met a woman who understands my fantasies. Have a nice day tomorrow and a safe return home. I’m off to the Renaissance and to fuel your imagination I can say that in my hometown the Public Veil sometimes stays on indoors as well, such as at women gatherings with women of all classes present, like weddings, where some wives of leading men expect it to be too wild for their withdrawn reputation for them to stay in their Public Veil to only listen and perhaps nod or shake their head if involved in a conversation. You don’t need me to guide you to the bathroom, do you?”
I would have liked to hug Aseel or touch cheek to cheek, but although I can see she is right in front of me just blindly leaning forward may made her think something was wrong or I would like to have the top removed to ask an urgent question and I didn’t want to reduce her time fantasising for nothing so instead I turned to waddle to the bathroom. Not being sure if I could open the door by using my head to push the handle down I just pushed it almost closed being sure I would be able to make a bulge with my knee to open it again. Aseel had started speaking on the phone and without being able to catch her exact words it was clear she had got Giulia Andretti at the other end and got her to come to her tomorrow afternoon to tell an apparently longer story about her name and family.
About two minutes after Aseel stopped talking the door was knocked, I heard it being opened and then closed again less than half a minute later without anyone having spoken or made any sound perceivable to me at all. Sound was now reduced to rumbling from people passing in the corridor outside the door and outside noise coming through the window, but with nothing on wheels this was much less than in other cities. Even with my eyes open my eyes got so little light that my mind easily formed images of its own. These were inspired by Aseel’s words for me to start imagining being at a wedding in her hometown as a high ranking pious wife staying in the Public Veil. Like this I would of course be guided to sit on a cushion or low sofa which made me waddle out of the bathroom to seat myself on the bed. On my way I got a glimpse of the crimson gown at the corner of my field of view to and see that Aseel was again standing in front of the bed at the same position as earlier on. Perhaps now she had flipped the sheer black veil down for appearing correctly for walking the streets of the Renaissance town even if in reality just standing instead of walking. Wearing the full outfit with her hands chained inside the muff in her mind she could only play the outdoor scenes of ‘Moretta’ if not ignoring how she looked. At the wedding in my mind I enjoyed a lot of gossip, and in between I heard something new to me which was not really meant for more than the two or three women chatting, but with most women only appearing in the Public Veil for going out a ‘personal tent’ was often ignored indoors as someone having already left. When nothing to listen to I thought about the coming night where it was my turn to be with my husband. After a wedding we would both be sexually hot from thinking about the bride and groom meeting, our own first night, and coming home late I would be guided directly to the bedroom to undress from the Public Veil to the Intimate Veil directly in front of him; something which we both loved.
After I don’t know how long my dreaming was interrupted by someone moving to sit close up against my right side. The crimson gown appearing in my field of view showed no one had entered the room. That it was Aseel, or Giulia, was further confirmed soon after when she leaned over for me to have my field of view filled by her sheer black veil with white linen underneath. It was the area of her ear which touched my cheek instead of her cheek for me to realise that with her rigid head she wasn’t able to face me while still staying seated next to me. So I turned to let my covered face meet her veiled Moretta, which she showed she liked by turning her body from side to side for the protruding nose of her Moretta to brush pleasantly across my face. Of course I didn’t know if she had seated herself next to me for me to play Giulia’s nun sister Adriana, or she just wanted to feel me close to her while dreaming. Anyway it felt really good to me to feel her, and now I could fantasise I was Aseel’s friend Suhaila, or Aseel was my co-wife with us being strict conservative women staying in the Public Veil in the women’s quarters of other homes. For us to stay together I moved a little away from her to be able to lie down on my back and use her muff as pillow, which she showed she appreciated by for a minute gently rocking her muff as if my head was a baby in her lap. In my mind the lap of Aseel turned into the lap of Roger. We were a married couple in the hometown of Aseel on a typical Saudi weekend in a traditional tent in the desert with a friend of his and his wife. We women spend almost the entire time in the women’s half of the tent wearing the Male Veil, but opening the neck of the overhead abaya for eating and drinking. The highlight of the weekend for us women was a short trip on camel back in Public Veil to a small deserted oasis where Roger sat in the shadows leaning against a palm tree with me in his lap while he fully enjoyed the scenery and I enjoyed listening to the trickling of water and being with him. Suddenly I heard Rogers’ friend bang something against a palm to make dates drop down. It made Roger want to get up.
– It was the door being knocked. I quickly got upright for Aseel to get up and answer the door, which she did by kicking at the door with a boot it sounded to me. A few moments later the voice of Rashed exclaimed
“Wow! You look absolutely fantastic Aseel. It’s one of the most spectacular costumes we have ever seen here in Venice even if it doesn’t appear expensive. May I flip the veil back to see the mask properly? – Ah, I can smell it is leather and not papier-mâché. I’m sure you have shown me a photo of this costume. Yes, now I remember, but it can’t be right, it’s fiction! This is the costume shown in your favourite Tales of the Veils story titled Moretta after the mask.”
The voice of Roger took over
“Yes, Laura has for real implemented the costume described in ‘Moretta’. It’s excellent workmanship and when she appeared in it to me just before we parted in Snowdonia I got so excited I invited her here on the spot. There is also something familiar to me about what Laura is wearing?”
“I guess what comes to your mind is a Bedouin tent. What you see is the traditional public dress for women of Aseel’s tribe and is in Arabic called khymskhyh which is short for ‘personal tent’ because the wearer is confined in fabric exactly the same as used for tents. I’m absolutely certain you’ll enjoy opening the ‘tent’ to discover what Laura is wearing underneath and you can start as soon as Aseel has changed …
You are going to leave here in the Moretta costume Aseel? – You have borrowed it, and you gesturing and bowing in front of the costume you arrived in is because you want me to put it in the plastic bag including your handbag? Yes, now I remember the Moretta mask is special by being held to the head by a protrusion going into the mouth to also mute the wearer, and you have your hands and feet chained like the women in the story. Good I decided to go back to our hotel right away because it’s going to be slow as I don’t think you want me to unchain your feet.”
“Just enjoy it Rashed and recall some of the stories we heard during the guided tour to imagine you are Casanova just having seduced a patrician lady who has now invited you to spend the night with her in her palace.”
“A good idea Roger. I think Aseel and I could learn a lot from Laura and you, who both have such a lively imagination. It has been a wonderful evening and if not bumping into each other in the crowds tomorrow we’ll keep in touch otherwise, especially Aseel and Laura I’m sure. And when Laura and you are ready for another veiled weekend consider my offer to borrow our London apartment. Goodnight.”
After a short while I heard the door and then Roger said
“I’ll go to the bathroom to get ready for the night. I think after I have got you out of this ‘tent’ I’ll climb the bed to from there enjoy seeing you undress until you are ready for me.”
But it didn’t happen quite so. When he lifted the top half of the Public Veil off my head for me to see more than his bare feet I saw he was dressed in a long off-white Pakistani shirt and probably nothing else, but most important I saw the expression on his face showing him to be highly aroused and about to burst any moment. I think both the stories about Casanova, anticipating what Aseel had for me and then now finally seeing the overhead abaya, which reminded him of having dinner while watching two lovely veiled women through the glass wall, had brought him this high. So I guided him out in the bathroom, lifted the shirt with my left mitten while my right mitten took hold of his erect member. Afterwards we both climbed onto the bed for him to relax. I pointed at the Public Veil on the floor and closed my mitten covered hand five times and then took hold of the abaya and closed the hand four times. Gradually we started cuddling until he after some time said he was ready for me to remove the fourth veil. I then stepped out on the floor and dressed down to the Female Veil, the third veil. While I turned on the floor to show myself from all angles he came to me and took hold off the abaya at my knees, but I didn’t want to reveal anything of the next Veils so instead I knelt down, lifted his shirt and guided his member up under my niqab, face scarf and sheer veil.
We went back to bed for him to enjoy my still completely veiled form and the company of each other until he was ready for the third veil to be removed. After undressing on the floor I came back to him in bed gesturing it was now time for a normal intercourse if he just refrained from looking lower than my chest.
While relaxing this time Roger made it clear that although it was late we would stay awake until he was ready for the first veil. Afterwards he admitted to me he wasn’t completely ready when he told me to step out on the floor, but when after undressing I lifted the shirt to show him the loose trousers were crotchless he jumped up and we did it standing to my full satisfaction. Holding each other close we dropped down on the bed for me to immediately fall asleep.
When I awoke Roger was still fast asleep. I left bed, took my clothing for the morning in the cupboard, the bag coded Zx, and went to the bathroom. Despite I had the shower running Roger was still asleep when I came out from the bathroom. It was late and even if Roger went directly from bed out of the door it would take too much time if he had to find shops for buying breakfast, so I considered taking my gag out to order breakfast through room service, but decided instead of possibly revealing my voice to him to wake him as he had to get up soon anyway. Fortunately at seeing me he smiled and said
“Seeing a burqa clad woman as the first thing when you wake should be a right for every man, but I have to punish you because a good submissive wife shouldn’t wake her husband on a day off.”
I pointed to the alarm clock, the area of my mouth and then the room phone for Roger to say
“Yes, I’d better order some breakfast. If I warn them you can answer the door while I’m in the bathroom. It appears like you have the use of your arms this morning so you can move the table out and lay it as well.”
With that he reached for the phone. Ten minutes later the door was knocked and he was in the bathroom. I got an admiring look from the maid, and even more so when I showed a black gloved hand and arm to gesture her to put the tray on the small table I had placed at the centre of the floor. But even before she had seen the size of her tip she said with a smile ‘buono carnevale’ before she left. I was hungry and was happy to see that I had got a new flavour of drinking yoghurt with mango that I looked forward to tasting, but it would be both impolite and totally out of my role to start the meal on my own, so I went to the window to take a look at the scenery while waiting, but despite the daylight the mesh of the burqa and what I wore beneath made it just a blur.
I had laid the table with two cups, a plate for Roger and poured the drinking yoghurt into a large glass with a straw for myself, but when Roger was ready to seat himself he said while I poured the cups with coffee
“As punishment for waking me you have your meal standing and further you eat and drink at the same time by now emptying your coffee cup in the glass with yoghurt.”
The taste would certainly remind me not to wake Roger on any future weekends, but there was no bad mood when he after some minutes said
“The not very common colour of your burqa is something I have seen at Tales of the Veils very recently I’m sure. ‘Green’ is a keyword – let me think – ‘forest green burqa,’ no: ‘Forest Green Pakistani Burqa‘ is the title of one of the posts of Ayeesha, or should I say Dave’s, blog about veiling attire.”
I nodded several times for Roger to continue
“So Ayeesha is the theme of your attire this morning. Does this mean you wear items from more of Ayeesha’s posts?”
I nodded for Roger to say
“Interesting. But I won’t leave the table before having finished.”
Ten minutes later I was gestured to clear the table and then Roger put it back up against the wall. Then he came to me saying
“I have been thinking: There are now six Ayeesha posts: abaya, shayla, niqab, gloves, your burqa and ball gag. If you are wearing abaya I won’t reveal your body by taking a look. Is it okay to lift the burqa?”
I nodded for Roger to start lifting and immediately say
“Abaya, even a butterfly type, check. Shayla, check. Niqab, with one eye layer down and two flipped back, check. Cotton gloves, check. Forest green Pakistani burqa, check. And finally ball gag, check. But you’re also wearing a thick black leather hood with pepper pot pattern eye holes. It is of course a very modest head covering that I really like you wearing, and I clearly remember there were photos of it in the most recent post about the gag, but is it correct to wear it when it hasn’t got a post of its own yet?”
I turned to the table to write
To me it was about making you happy. Please read an excerpt or two for me from Ayeesha’s blog and then a tale, and then I’ll explain the purpose of the hood before we change to our carnival costumes.
“I think with an excerpt from every second post I could learn if you agree with Ayeesha. So this is from ‘#1: Butterfly Abaya‘:
The material is quite thick and heavy and the weight is noticeable but for me the first immediate sensation to get used to was the ‘butterfly’ aspect of the garment. Whilst the garment itself is loose and large, it is made much larger by it being so wide that it stretches all the way to mid forearm on each sleeve. These outer ‘wings’ however, are sewn together so that the actual body section that one wears is no larger than a standard abaya. This is immediately noticeable as whenever one lifts one’s arm, one is in fact lifting a whole body’s length of cloth which is noticeable and quite restricting for it slows arm movements down and makes dramatic arm movements quite difficult particularly when lying or sitting as one often finds one is accidentally sitting on the sleeves.”
I nodded all through the last line for Roger to continue
“Then it is ‘#3: Three-Layer Niqaab‘:
Flipping down the second layer and there’s a marked decrease in vision. I can navigate around the house fine, do jobs such as tidying up and making some tea, but closer work, such as typing, cleaning thoroughly and reading is impossible. I’m afraid that some of the tales that we have such as Dr. Niqab where cleaning is done with two-layers down are probably the realm of fantasy for one could never see into all those hard to reach corners.
And about the final layer:
And then finally, three layers down. What can I say? I rarely do this, for my vision is limited indeed. I am not blinded, I can navigate around the house but I can’t pick up any details nor watch TV satisfactorily. Even in bright sunlight, the world is quite dark although my modesty is fully protected ..”
I both nodded and shook my head for Roger to say
“You don’t fully agree. I don’t think Ayeesha is wrong, so what you mean is that three-layer niqabs are different with some reducing vision most with the first layer, some with the last and there are many combinations, and the one you wear now doesn’t match what Ayeesha describes?”
I nodded for Roger to say
“We have to discuss niqab eye covering more in depth some time, but not today where I think the leather hood and the mesh of the burqa are more decisive for your vision with you only using one eye layer of the niqab. I’ll go on to the last Ayeesha post titled ‘#6: Silicone Ball Gag‘:
However, it is not without its problems, and the prime one is that it doesn’t silence me. I can still even speak in an indistinct manner with it ..
I often wear this gag inside my leather hood ..
And indeed, since the gag does not really silence me sufficiently ..
so I shall be looking for a more severe and effective gag after which I can relegate this one to use in more informal occasions or, like is described by that anonymous sister in Kris O’Donnell’s tale ‘Five Sisters’, if my master ever does decide for me to have my power of speech removed, ‘I still think I’d like to wear a gag anyway, as a physical reminder of my silence’.”
I proved that this gag didn’t silence completely by saying just that “E sh roo e oesn ailen,” to make Roger comment
Ayeesha is right it only works as a reminder I can hear, but I would say it does prevent oral communication. I know you have more effective gags, and with the hood in addition to being on photos as just quoted also being included in the text I think it is justified to wear it for portraying the Ayeesha posts so far. Now I’ll simply start reading for you and then this time it’s you who afterwards has to tell me the title of the tale:
Wearing the corset, she soon discovered that things were a lot more difficult. She could not bend and had to sit upright, as straight as a bolt. She realised the true purpose of the corset. It was not, as she had previously thought, to create a waist so alluring so as to entice men sexually, but instead to ensure that a pious veiled lady maintains the correct posture. This was confirmed when she viewed the next item; a mini, matching version of the corset to be fitted around her neck. This caused her to hold her head high; again posture was evidently paramount in the Baxfield household.
After the posture collar came a pair of thick black gloves and then the boots, again well-made in black leather and with imposing heels of 4 inches. Emily was unused to high heels, particularly when wearing a corset and posture collar as well and she felt extremely unsteady as she practiced walking around the room. Once she felt confident she returned to the bed and picked up the next item: the dress, a well-tailored affair in forest green silk with embroidery down the front and on the skirt. The dress fitted tightly over the corset before widening for her hips, then carrying straight down in a loose yet restricting skirt. Inside it was lined with leather that meant that it had no give in it and strides of only a foot or so were possible. She picked up the thin leather belt and tightened it around her compressed waist, noting that the buckle had the Baxfield coat of arms on it, as if she were now owned by them, which, in a sense, she perhaps was.
By now Emily was feeling quite restricted, but it was the final item was the one that she knew would restrict her the most. She picked up the heavy, beautiful, embroidered burqa in forest green to match the dress and turned it inside out. As she’d expected it incorporated a hood which she gingerly fitted over her head, arranging her hair in a ponytail so that it did not get in the way, and then letting the large protrusion at the front fit into her mouth, silencing her completely.
Now you have to believe me dear Laura that I had marked this excerpt from home before knowing you would bring the Moretta outfit with its neck corset and mouth protrusion or dress up as in the Ayeesha posts in forest green burqa, although you and Ayeesha have the hood and the gag as separate items instead of them being incorporated in the burqa. Now let me know what is the title of this tale with one detail that may be inspired by ‘Moretta’ and with a burqa so similar to the one Ayeesha describes that it no doubt is based on her real burqa?”
I took the notepad and wrote
Baxfield coat of arms = upper class British home
pious veiled lady = alternative Britain with veiling laws
not used to corsets = low class woman
puts on strict high class garment = employed in high class home but not maid
Total = The Companion – click – click – click
“You deduce almost like Sherlock Holmes. I take the ‘clicks’ as we again think the same because even before you had found out what the story is I had decided to go on by reading the last thrilling romantic part of the story. It goes like this:
Chapter 5. When evening came Emily was led to her bedroom by Maggie who unchained her hands as soon as she had locked the door behind them.
Slowly, she walked over to the burqa-clad figure and guided her to the bed. Then carefully and lovingly, as only a woman can do, she removed the burqa and unlocked the hood. As she removed it, she revealed a young lady with strawberry blonde hair and wide, happy cornflower blue eyes who was far more beautiful than she had ever imagined. The girl smiled at her and their lips moved together and Emily knew that her tale would definitely be one of happily ever after… FINIS
Do you like this ending?
I nodded several times for Roger to say
“If, I mean when, we continue meeting perhaps we could at some point in the future invite another woman one or both days of a weekend to do some more realistic playing of tales with more wives. What do you think of that? If willing to try, do you know of someone who would like to participate? I don’t. And she has to be single like us, I don’t want anyone cheating with their marriage.”
After some moments of consideration I very slowly nodded twice for Roger to say
“Just think about it, and if you decide for No it’s okay, it’s you I love.”
At this point we were seated next to each other on the bed but his last word made me jump up and throw myself upon Roger to push him down on his back on the bed burying him in the thick fabric of my burqa. We changed between him kissing my face around the mesh and me brushing his face with mine for a couple of minutes and then he said
“It was very very nice, thank you, but the hood played no role as you wrote.”
I gestured him to stay seated on the bed and went to the table to write a note which I then handed to him that said
What I just did was a sudden impulse. The advantage for you with this hood is that it is not part of any suit. You may lift the burqa and the abaya to see for yourself.
He lifted to see I wore only knee length socks and slippers under the abaya for him to pull me down on the bed next to him, roll over while getting his own trousers down and then get both the burqa and the abaya above my waist and get on top of me.
After another wonderful lovemaking Roger was quick in the bathroom for me to take it over for changing to the carnival costume while he changed in the room.
As with our carnival experiences Saturday afternoon I won’t go into detail with Sunday afternoon either, but again simply let you enjoy some photos.
This second afternoon we didn’t spent any time or thinking on how to appear to just enjoy the costumed people passing and now and then exchanging gestures or nods to once again show we had much the same taste, also regarding which Venetian masks and costumes we liked best.
Although it is very crowded at times as the area where everybody gathers is not that large and we did meet Rached and Aseel around three o’clock. Of course we women separated a little from the men and everybody else by moving up against a wall to first both gesture we’ve had a good time since we parted and we enjoyed walking around Venice and watching the costumes, and then Aseel leaned to my ear to whisper
Aseel and Laura’s last encounter
“Giulia had a wonderful time last night when Casanova lived up to his reputation as one of the greatest lovers of all times. He did about everything to me except remove my Moretta and head covering. The last orgasm made me pass out I think and I awoke with my head still covered and masked but otherwise naked.
The real Giulia Andretti, working as maid at your hotel, is named after one of her ancestors, and perhaps just as important this branch of the family comes from Moretta, which I guess you know is a small town south of Turin. She will ask her mother and grandmother more about her name and what they know about the mask and the connection with the town when going home for Easter. She went to work just after speaking with me and got the costume with her so you can just call and ask for her when coming back.”
The last subject made me point at myself, show five fingers and then mimic handing over to Aseel to make her say
“No don’t bother giving me the Five Veils back today. You have so little time left here which you shouldn’t waste by having to pass our hotel, and I don’t want to trouble Giulia Andretti with bringing it either. It’s for you to borrow until we hopefully meet again someday, perhaps in London. If we don’t it doesn’t matter, especially as I know you are going to enjoy them, perhaps even more so when I mail you a scientific paper I wrote about their use.”
With my slightly reduced sight, her masked face with covered eyes and her low muffled voice only the words of Aseel had conveyed how close she felt we had got after just one evening together, but when I next hugged her, as about my only way to thank her for letting me keep the Five Veils, I felt her shiver and squeeze even closer against me to sense her feelings for me were even deeper than what her words expressed.
We stood close until the men came and guided us on in the opposite directions which had made us meet.
All too soon, and without time to sit down at a cafe like yesterday, we had to go back to our hotel, as it even then it would be late before each us was home. I would be staying in the carnival costume to change at the costume shop as I did on my arrival, but when we entered our room I hurried to the bathroom door gesturing I strongly felt a call of nature for Roger to change in the room. I had ensured I was the last to be in the bathroom before we left to leave one of my plastic bags of which I already wore the main content beneath my costume, so as men are quick to change and pack Robert was ready to leave when I opened the door.
“Oh Laura, it’s good we are far away from my bank and that we are now even further from real life than with the Moretta costume or once again you would, with your appearance, have persuaded me to invite you to where costumes like you are at present wearing are worn in real life. It is as if you knew in advance that yesterday I would be teasingly complaining about having to do everything because you dress up in costumes so strict you can’t use your hands properly to now appear as a submissive serving Jorean woman in a wonderful bright yellow and blue hanbok, a black wig and a mouthless white muting mask with orange tinted eye openings. But we can again this summer, or perhaps sooner, find a place we see as Jorea somewhere in Britain to continue the plays that I now am completely sure we both love. But unfortunately now I have a boat and a plane to catch so it’s goodbye Venice and goodbye Laura.”
With that he made a deep Far East bow, took his suitcase, opened the door and in the doorway said as our ‘ritual’ prescribed
“Laura, I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you!”
I went to the door to, despite my orange coloured vision, follow him down the corridor and see him enter the lift. Then I went back to the bathroom to replace the Jorean mask and wig with the Venetian mask and head covering, which would match with the hanbok dress for going to the costume shop. But after removing the white mask I first had to wipe my eyes, which had been in tears since appearing to ModestyMan in the Jorean costume, knowing it would be our last minutes together for some time. With my tinted sight I couldn’t be sure, but it appeared to me as if ModestyMan had shed a tear as well.
We’ll send you a new account after our next meeting.
To be continued…?
Copyright © 2014, Bo_Emp ; bo_emp ‘at’ yahoo ‘dot’ com
Thanks to Nye North for proof reading