Black Ghost IV

Black Ghost IV

by Dave Potter

Exclusively for the ‘Tales of the Veils’ website


“Gabriella, the letter has come. You are now married to Ahmet ben-Yusuf.”

There were tears in her mother’s eyes but not in her own. She had been expecting this for a while. Now that it had come, well… it was just something that she had to do.

Soon after the invasion, the Believers had announced that, due to their infinite mercy, all girls left without a father to arrange their marriage, would have one arranged them instead.

By the Believers.

To a Believer.

Gabriella sat down. Ever since her father had been killed in the fighting two years ago, trying desperately to stop what was now happening, life had been hard, but it was life nonetheless. From now on though, things would be different. Instead of visiting her friends, going shopping in the town centre, going to work; now she would just be a wife.

No longer would she be wearing jeans, shorts, T-shirts, summer dresses. Now, instead of looking at the black ghosts in the street and wondering what their lives are like, now she would become one.

For once you marry a Believer, you automatically become one. There is no choice in the matter.

“He is coming tomorrow morning to pick you up. Your new home is in Diyarbakir,” her mother told her.

Diyarbakir! That was thousands of miles away! She knew that she would never see her mother or friends again.

The next morning she stood naked, looking at her bed. Laid out on it were her new clothes, the standard Believer Uniform, mandatory for all women. She put on her underwear and then the thick black cotton stockings and gloves. Then came the baggy Turkish trousers, fastened at the ankles and waist. Then the baggy shirt, also in black. Then came the second pair of trousers and the second shirt. Then the thick woollen socks and the thick woollen gloves. She put her hair in a ponytail and then fastened the underscarf around the top of her head. Also black. Then came the headscarf, another piece of pure black cotton, framing her face. Then the thick black abayah, covering her like a bag from the neck down. Then the equally thick black chador, fastened under her mouth, all was hidden to the world save a small triangle for her eyes, nose and mouth. She was another black ghost like all the others.

Waiting for Ahmet ben-Yusuf she practiced moving about in her new clothing. It was hard. Everything was so heavy… and hot. She’d heard that Anatolia could get really hot in the summer. How would she cope dressed like this? To do anything she had to lift metres of cloth. Her walk was reduced to a shuffle.

She was now a pious, modest, wife of a Believer.


Ahmet ben-Yusuf came at eleven. He was a major in the Believers’ army. He was a war hero. He looked as Gabriella had expected him to look. Baggy white clothes, a skullcap and a bushy beard. He did not acknowledge her mother as she was still an Unbeliever. Instead he merely said, “Come with me wife, and keep your eyes downcast as a pious woman should.” Gabriella followed him three steps behind as she knew that was what a Believing Wife always does. He opened the back door of his car for her and then got in the front. Gabriella drove away from her old life forever.

They stopped at the Radisson Hotel in the centre of the city. “We shall celebrate our wedding night here,” Ahmet ben-Yusuf explained. All the while Gabriella was wondering what kind of man he was. Would he be really strict or only moderate? Her friend Kristina had been married off to a moderate. She could still write letters to her old friends and meet them in the park. Silviya however, had been married off to a strict man. She hadn’t heard from her since.

Ahmet ben-Yusuf left his new wife with another black ghost, an old woman. “Prepare her for me,” he instructed. The ghost nodded and took Gabriella by the hand.  They went to a hammam room and she motioned for Gabriella to strip. Once she was naked the crone motioned for her to soap herself all over and wash. That done she took her hand and led her to the adjacent bedroom. She was laid on the double bed and her wrists chained to the bedposts at the head, whilst her ankles were chained to the posts at the foot. Gabriella had heard that Believers chained their wives in this manner but it was still strange. She imagined that if she could see herself like that, she would look like a starfish. The old crone took out a machine and then typed on a messenger; Do you know what this is? Gabriella nodded. It was a TRIA machine, for permanent hair removal. She had used one before when she was tired of waxing her legs. The crone went to her private parts and carefully shaved the hair and then applied the TRIA. Within half an hour she was totally bald there. She felt like a young girl again. Then the crone typed on the messenger again. Are you a virgin? Gabriella shook her head. The crone wagged her gloved finger at her in disgust and then took a red capsule which she placed in the young bride’s vagina. This will break when he enters and it will look like blood. He will never know. Although she felt violated that the crone had entered that sacred place, she also felt glad that she was looking after her interests.

Then to her surprise, the crone took out a needle and prepared an injection. What was she doing? As the black ghost approached her she began to panic and fight against her bonds, but the crone held her down firmly and then plunged the needle deep into the bride’s throat. It didn’t hurt as much as she expected but she screamed nonetheless.

Except that no sound came out.

The injection has permanently removed your voice, the crone typed. It saves using a gag like I have. Your husband insisted on it. Have a happy wedding night.

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.

The next morning her husband woke her up for another coupling. When they had finished he addressed her. “Wife, welcome to my family. You are now blessed as a Believer. Forget your old life and name, they are gone. From now on you are Four because I already have three wives at home. Three is a former Unbeliever like you; the other two were born Believers. I am a strict man and expect the same from my wives and daughters. You came to me in the standard uniform of a Believing Woman, but from this day on, that shall not suffice for me. In the house I expect all that you wore yesterday and a single layer of niqaab. Outside the house I insist on a blinding niqaab so that you may not succumb to temptations. You may only lift it if you need to investigate something important, but the least that I shall ever permit outside of the house are two layers. I also insist on the other items that await you in the hammam. I shall unchain your wrists and ankles now and then leave the room. Do not remove the sheet until I have left. I have no need to see your face and tempting form.

He unchained her and then left. When she heard the door close she removed the sheet. She went to the hammam and washed thoroughly. Then she dressed. It was as before except that now there was a belt around the abayah and cords that linked the belt to loops on her woollen gloves. There was also a cord that linked her black leather boots. Now her gait was restricted and her hand movements as well. There was also the niqaab to put on before the chador. It had three layers. They were all thick. The first blurred her sight considerably, the second almost blinded her, the third totally blinded her. She flipped the first down and put on the heavy chador. Then came the final item, thick leather mittens that held her fingers together and only her thumbs separate. She put them on and shuffled to the bedroom. It was hard to navigate with the reduced sight and she kept wishing to use her hands but she could not.


Waiting for her in the bedroom she saw the dim outline of Ahmet ben-Yusuf. “That’s better,” he said, “you are a True Believer now. I hope our coupling resulted in a son. If you need to communicate with me, use the mittens: Thumb up is yes, thumb down is no. I cannot forsee me requiring anymore communication from you than that. Now Four, are you ready to leave?” She put her thumbs up and he nodded before flipping her second and third niqaab layers down and blinding her. Taking her mittened hand he led her to her new life as a silent, hidden black ghost, the wife of a True Bel….

Slowly the scene drifted away and Gabriella found herself lain in the capsule in the Gaming Salon. Wow! That had been good, so real! She loved Black Ghost IV, so much more realistic, total than Black Ghost III had been which had been full of glitches. But then Gabriella couldn’t wait to experience any new fetish game, so long as it involved veiling and being dominated. She couldn’t wait for each session. If only it wasn’t so expensive; all her spare salary went on gaming.

“You look like you enjoyed that,” said Vlado, the attendant. “Same again next week or something different?”

“No, next week I’m booked in for Onogurian Harem Slave although I’m desperate to try Vippon Wife III,” she replied with a smile.

She couldn’t wait for Saturday to come around once more…


Copyright © 2010, Dave Potter


I hereby invite readers to contribute to a series of vignettes where they describe a session in the veiling fetish game that they design. Please send a mail to TOTV: ku.oc.oohay@77rettopevad (sorry! has to be typed by hand to mail program to reduce spam)

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