A Veiled Justice: Part 1

A Veiled Justice

Part ONE – The Case of the Missing Girls

by Ed Kilpatrick


157¡ Anniversario Polizia


For those of you who have read my various stories dotted all over the internet, some of you will have noticed that more recently the Burqa, a formidable outfit worn by some Islamic woman has started to feature in some of my more recent stories. So much of my recent ideas have come from one website in particular: “Tales of the Veils”
On the request of Bo_Emp from TOTV, I’m delighted to have been able to provide this latest tale, which was started on 2nd January 2010 and completed on 16th January 2010.
Like all my stories “A Veiled Justice” is fictional and therefore none of the characters are real (except in my head). This story does contain the usual bondage you would expect from all my stories but under the request from TOTV, this latest story includes veiling and cross-dressing from the beginning (in a Burqa of course)!
I should state now, that to write this tale, I managed to purchase a burqa from Afghanistan on eBay during late 2009 and therefore I’ve now experienced the horror and the delight of this formidable garment first hand. I therefore hope you enjoy “A Veiled Justice.”


The Case:

My name is David Jones, Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) David Jones to most of my staff in the missing person’s division of the London Metropolitan Police (Met). I’ve been a police officer all my working life and was transferred to this long established division three months ago to work on a case that now covers the entire UK and more recently the United States.

It all started three months ago when girls started disappearing all over London. To date over twenty five females in their late twenties and early thirties have disappeared in mysterious circumstances after nights out or on their way home from work. For the last three months I’ve led a team to fifteen police officers on a case and got nowhere until this week:

It was Tuesday lunch time when my telephone went:

“Hello, is that DCI David Jones,” asked the female voice with an American accent on the other end of the line?

“Yes, this is he,” I replied!

“Hi, my name is Detective Kelly Lewis from the Washington DC PD,” she replied. “I’ve been working on a case for the past five months where ten DC females in their late twenties, early thirties have all gone missing and I’m led to believe you’re working on a similar case in London.

By mid-afternoon I’d checked Kelly’s credentials and by four we’d held our first joint case teleconference call where we shared information on both cases which were very similar.

Over the next two weeks and another three disappearances, one in London and two in DC, we were no further on until we got our first break through in a cold October Monday morning. To cut a long story short, one of the missing American girls (Stacy) had just been found on a ship, during a routine stop by the coastguard, just off the coast of Gibraltar. The good news was that Stacy was safe and being looked after by the Gib authorities in hospital, while the police were now interrogating the ship’s captain, crew and one of the suspected kidnappers, who were also on the ship. After discussing this change in direction, my superiors asked me to fly to Gibraltar ASAP. After updating Kelly on this progress and since Stacy was American, she agreed to fly to Gib herself and join me there tomorrow.

I arrived in Gibraltar, where I was met by police officers and taken straight to the police station where they’d be questioning the ship’s crew.

“This is a strange case, DCI Jones,” one of the Gib police officers explained on route to the police station. “The ship was on route to Kumar City in the Middle East so we expect Stacy is part of a global white female slave trade.”

I explained that this was our initial thoughts also but we had no evidence so far to prove it. They then went on to tell me about the strange attire they found Stacy wearing and also the female kidnapper that was travelling with her. I decided not to prod any deeper on this as we had just reached the police station.

As I entered the police station, the senior officer brought me up to date on the case and explained that he had bagged and tagged the clothes both females had been wearing when they were found. He had also sent these to my hotel room along with another pile of spare clothing, which he explained were all a little strange. There wasn’t much I could do tonight so I headed to my hotel to rest for the night before cracking on with the case tomorrow.

Now, I’ve always had a fetish for bondage and also the odd private cross dressing session. I’d always had a fascination about the Burqa, an all encompassing tent that many Middle Eastern countries forced their female population to wear while in public but to date, I’d never experienced one first hand myself. That was until now, when I entered my hotel room and found heaps of bright red zentai catsuits and at least six bright red Burqa’s similar to the type worn by woman in Afghanistan. The Gib police had bagged and tagged the evidence but these spare cloths were just lying in my room so I had to try some on:

I first picked out a red bra and pair of panties, the largest I could find. After slipping into the underwear, I’ll pulled down the rear zip of the bright red zentai catsuit, which went from the top of the head (within the built in mask/hood), to the base of the back. I then slipped my legs, then my arms into the suit and pulled it on, finally pulling the hood over my head and pulling up the rear zip. Looking at myself in the mirror, I saw a reflection that wasn’t me! I was staring at a slightly overweight female figure that was wearing a red Lycra suit from head to toe. The hood had absolutely no mouth hole but had two black mesh eyes so I could see, even though my vision was a little reduced due to the thin black mesh covering each eye. Next I had to try on one of the bright red Burqa’s. These were all made of the really soft satin or silk or maybe even some synthetic alternative. The single all encompassing garment was heavy but slipped easily over my head and fell down to my ankles, leaving no evidence that there was a male wearing this tent at all. For all intensive purposes, I could be a Middle Eastern Female, wearing a traditional (even if was bright red) Burqa. I paced my hotel room, trying to work out what it would actually be like to have to wear this tent out in public and even worse, in the heat of the Middle Eastern desert. I then had a great idea! None of the spare cloths had been catalogued by the Gib police so I quickly removed the cloths I was wearing, picked up another set and called reception for some packaging so that I could send these cloths back to London. I first of all, packed up the evidence and addressed it directly to the Met Police and then created a second package of spare cloths to my own (home) address. The rest of the cloths were also put into a third package, which I’d leave in my room for now. After arranging for FedEx to collect the cloths tomorrow morning, I headed off to bed with a hard on, thinking about all these wonderful new additions to my bondage accessories back home.


By Tuesday mid-day, I was in the fifth hour of interviewing the other crew members of the vessel that had been seized. There was then a knock on the door:

“Come in,” I shouted!

“Detective Jones, this is Detective Lewis from Washington,” introduced the young Gibraltar police officer.

“Thank you,” I replied. “Good morning Detective Jones, welcome to Gibraltar. Did you have a nice flight?”

“Good morning David nice to meet you,” replied this extremely attractive American blonde in one of those rather unattractive business trouser suits.

By eight that night Kelly and I met for dinner in the hotel to discuss the case and bring each other up to date. While I’d spent the day questioning the crew of the Kumarian ship, Kelly had spent the day with Stacy and her parents who had flown in with Kelly from Washington on the same flight. By now, we had a picture of a white slave trade in white American and English girls in the late twenties and early thirties, all bound for Kumar:

“Did you ever get to the bottom of the weird clothing,” I questioned Kelly?

“Yeah David and it is a little strange,” Kelly replied. “It is like a uniform or something. We all know that in Kumar, girls are forced to wear those hideous Burqa things so Stacey told me that she must have been drugged because when she woke up, she was in the cabin where she was found, wearing the catsuit and Burqa. Stacey went on to tell me that during the entire trip, she was forced to wear it all day but at night, she was allowed to remove the Burqa and sleep wearing only the catsuit that also covered her entire body.”

“How strange,” I continued my questioning.

“It gets worse David,” Kelly continued. “The girl that kidnapped Stacy seemed to wear one of the red catsuits herself so at no time did Stacy ever see her face. When we ate, she had to remove the hood but during these times, Stacy explained that she was locked in her cabin so she ate alone.”

I explained to Kelly that I’d sent some of the clothing back to London for forensic testing but I’d kept the spares back to show her but she then surprised me by asking to go up to my room to have a look so as soon as we finished our meal, we headed back to my room:

“Jesus David,” I’ve no idea how you could be expected to wear these hideous Burqa’s,” screamed Kelly as she picked up one of the spare bright red Burqa!

“I wouldn’t,” I responded in sarcastic tone. “If we have to go to Kumar Kelly, then you would have to wear one.”

Kelly laughed but the silence that followed clearly made her realise that it looked very likely that we would both have to travel to Kumar in the next few days, which would mean that Kelly would have to consider the countries laws around modesty.

“So do you want to give it a try Kelly,” I teased?

“Not until I have to,” she replied.

Over the next few days, we continued questioning the crew and the kidnapper herself. We got very little more information except a little about the projected handover in Kumar city but the female kidnapper had absolutely no idea where Stacy or any of the previous five girls she’d personally handled over the past four months, were being sent after they arrived in Kumar City. On Thursday Stacey flew back to the States on a direct flight from Malaga but Kelly and I flew back on a chartered aircraft with the ten crew members and the kidnapper to the UK, where they would be processed through the English court system. By Friday, Kelly and I were back in New Scotland Yard (London) where we had been liaising with our colleagues in the Kumar federal police, who thought they might know where these kidnapped girls had been taken. By Saturday mid-day, Kelly and I were on a British Airways 777 from London Heathrow to Kumar City.


Arrival in Kumar:

I was raised from a fairly poor sleep by the captain’s announcement:

“Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking: We’re now 100 miles from Kumar City and descending through 25,000 feet. We’ll be landing in approximately thirty minutes and I would ask you all to prepare for arrival in Kumar.

As usual in these circumstances, people got up and made their final trip to the bathroom but as Kelly returned to seat beside me in Business (Club) class, she pulled down a rather large bundle from the overhead storage bins:

“I’ve been dreading this thing,” explained Kelly.

“What have you been dreading Kelly, ” I questioned.

“This Burqa: dummy,” she questioned.

It was then it hit me. How could I have been so stupid? All females in Kumar were forced to wear these hideous all encompassing tents, known as Burqa’s. Based on the same design as the Burqa’s worn by females for years on Afghanistan, Kelly was lifting a dark blue tent over her head and pulling the ends down until it met her ankles. All that I could see now was a dark blue shroud standing in front of me. Her entire body was now covered from head to toe:

“Jesus, this thing is hideous,” explained Kelly from behind the mesh grill that hid her eyes and face from the outside world.

“I don’t know Kelly, I think it is quite fetching,” I responded, trying to make light of the situation as Kelly sat down again beside me for the last ten minutes into Kumar City.

Little did Kelly know of my secret fantasies of bondage and the bright red Burqa’s I’d sent back to the UK, which had already arrived in my London apartment. Kelly had also no idea that I’d actually experienced a Burqa myself and loved the sensation of being hidden behind the veil. It was like my personal cocoon when outside in public but then I’d no idea what it would be like to have to wear one every time I left the house or was in public.

“So where did you buy the Burqa,” I questioned Kelly who was now struggling to pull on a pair of dark blue gloves that matched the Burqa she was wearing?

“When I knew that we were going to Kumar,” Kelly continued to explain: “I was fully briefed by the Met in the protocol and what were expected from females in this ridiculous country we’re going to. The upshot was, a Met Police Muslim liaison officer took me shopping yesterday and I was amazed at the ranges of veils and Burqa’s available. In the end, my choice was limited due to how strict Kumar is and the law that requires (in public) that all females must wear a full Burqa where not even their eyes are visible to the outside world. So here I am David, shrouded in this thick layer of satin but then I had many options of nylon, wool and silk Burqa’s but as this was on expenses, I bought one of the most expensive I could find. My only concern now is this particular Burqa is a lot heavier than some of the others and I’m starting to cook in it already. Dear knows what it will be like in the desert heat of Kumar?”

We continued chatting as the aircraft landed in Kumar City in the dark of a warm desert autumn evening. Kelly and I passed through immigration separately. This was another first for me: where females and males joined separate lines so my big question now was how to recognise Kelly on the other side because there were hundreds of females, all wearing; all encompassing Burqa’s but in many different colours. My job was to pick Kelly out of the forty or fifty who chose to wear blue Burqa’s but then as luck had it, Kelly found me.

“That was an experience David,” explained Kelly. The immigration officers wanted to see my face but at the same time I got a lecture on the law demanding that all females remain covered at all times in public. They also explained that if I was caught outside without a Burqa, then I’d be subject to Kumarian law and therefore their punishment.”

“I hear that the punishment is hard Kelly,” I replied. “I’ve heard many rumours from a flogging to females being forced to wear metal helmets for a period of time, which are locked on their heads.”

“This is ridiculous David,” Kelly complained as we left baggage reclaim.

After reaching arrivals at International Airport, Kelly and I were met by Erin and Amara, two female police officers from the Kumar federal Police. It was a strange encounter as both officers were veiled but clearly recognised me:

“Good evening Detective Jones,” said the first girl in an English accent  wearing a dark blue police officers uniform of smart jacket and trousers but her head was covered in a matching dark blue veil with only two black mesh eyes peering through some sort of hood below the face veil.

The face veil was a simple Hijab / Nijab that would be pulled over the head leaving a face veil hanging down and only a post slit for the eyes. I could only guess that in Kumar, not even this level of veiling was enough!

“Good evening,” I replied, not sure what else to say to these veiled female police officers.

“Yes Sir, good evening. I’m Erin from the Kumar federal police and this is Amara my colleague,” she continued.

“Good evening Sir,” explained Amara. “This must be detective Lewis from Washington DC,” continued Amara in a local accent as she turned to face the shrouded Kelly Lewis.

As soon as the pleasantries were over, Erin and Amara directed us to the waiting SUV with a male driver.

“This is Ausaf our driver,” explained Erin as we got into the air conditioned SUV, which was a relief from the humid air that we’d just stepped into as we exited the airport. “He will be your personal driver during your stay in Kumar.”

“Ah, it’s cooler in here,” commented Kelly as she stepped into the rear of the SUV. “I’ve no idea how I’m supposed to wear this thing in the heat!”

Erin and Amara then explained that they should be able to offer some assistance when we all got to the house:

“Don’t worry,” explained Erin as she placed her hand on Kelly’s shrouded knee. “I had to get used to them when I first arrived in Kumar a year ago but the law is relaxed for police officers.”

Our conversation continued as we drove the twenty minutes to the house that the Kumar police had provided for us. As we stepped inside the luxurious house, Kelly was the first to speak:

“Erin, is it okay if I remove my Burqa when I’m in the house,” questioned Kelly?

“It is your decision Kelly,” replied Erin. “It is customary in Kumar to remain veiled while in the company of men but since you already know David and he knows you; you can remove the Burqa but I’m sorry, Amara and I will remain veiled.”

“Do you not find veiling really strange Erin; even after a year in Kumar,” I asked? “You’re clearly not from Kumar originally.”

Erin went on to tell me that she saw an advert in a Met police magazine, looking for volunteers to work in Kumar, alongside Kumary police colleagues and since the money was much better than in the UK and tax free; she took the leap. Erin went on to explain that when she signed up at the Kumary embassy in London, she was booked on a familiarisation session that lasted an entire day, which included the customs of veiling for all females in public.

“Do I therefore have to wear this Burqa every time I go outside,” asked Kelly?

“Not necessarily,” replied Amara. “Because you are working for the government here in Kumar, you can wear one of these veils. In fact, we have one for you to try.”

Amara went to one of the bedrooms and returned with some cloth and handed the hoods to Kelly:

“If you take off your Burqa first, it will be easier,” explained Amara. “Would you prefer it if David left the room?”

“Not at all Amara,” replied Kelly. “I want David to see what I’m going to have to put up with while in Kumar!”

Soon Kelly was free of the heavy blue satin Burqa and she lifted the dark blue uniform hood first. This slipped easily over her head and Kelly pulled it until it rested tightly around her neck with the open mouth but closed black meshed eyes:

“I can actually see quite well in this hood,” explained Kelly. “But why is there an open mouth if my eyes are veiled?”

“That’s simple,” replied Erin. “When you put on the Nijab, you’ll notice that it isn’t that restrictive so you’ll be able to eat with it on. If the mouth on your hood was closed, then you’d have no chance of eating in public.”

“You guys think of everything,” Kelly responded in a sarcastic voice!

Kelly then picked up the Nijab and pulled it over her head, so now only her mesh covered eyes and the bridge of her Lycra covered nose were visible through the postage slit.

“If a Hijab or a Nijab is perfectly acceptable in most of the Middle East, why are woman in Kumar forced to veil to this degree,” Kelly continued her questioning?

“In Kumar the female body is sacred,” continued Amara. “Unlike the west, we believe to achieve harmony in our society, females should demonstrate a certain amount of modesty, which includes veiling. We just take it a little further and ensure our men folk don’t even have access the window of the female soul and that is our eyes, hence the mesh eye veil you’re wearing now and on the mesh eye grill that is on the Burqa you’ve just removed.”

I then decided to make light of this weird situation:

“I think this would be an excellent custom to bring to the UK or the US Kelly,” I teased. “If I was at a nightclub, it would be a lucky dip to what I picked up (a pretty girl or an ugly one)!”

All three girls stared at me through their mesh covered eyes and Erin broke the uncomfortable silence:

“Maybe men should be forced to wear veils as well,” suggested Erin in a serious voice. “I made my boyfriend wear one around the house for an entire weekend when he visited me from London last month. By Sunday night, he was a lot more submissive and even more attentive to my needs!”

“Maybe David should try on one of our special police veils,” commented Amara as she picked up a second set from Kelly’s room, handing the hood and the Nijab to me?

“I don’t think so ladies,” I replied, trying to back track from this conversation.

After about five minutes of pushing, I was now hooded and veiled myself and in a strange way it felt good that obvious outwardly facing beauty was no longer part of our group now.

“So how does it feel David,” asked Erin?

“Actually I like it Erin,” I replied. “If I wore that Burqa that Kelly hates so much, no one would even know if I was a guy or a girl.”

The girls all laughed as Erin and Amara explained they had to leave but they would be back with us tomorrow morning to start the local investigation.

“David,” Amara went on to say. “The kitchen is fully stocked so you could continue your journey to fully understand what a Kumary girl has to go through and make Kelly a little something to eat while she takes a bath.”

“That sounds easy enough Amara,” I replied as I lifted my hands towards the Nijab to remove it.

“No, no David, keep the veil on,” requested Amara. It really suits you and anyway. How are you to find out what it is really like to be a woman in Kumar if you are not veiled,” teased Amara.

With that Erin and Amara were gone:

“They’re both nice girls,” explained Kelly as we closed the front door behind them.

“Yes they are,” I replied so how about some dinner?”

Kelly stayed with me as I cooked. She set the table and watched me struggle wearing the hood and Nijab.

“So is it really not that bad,” she teased?

“Actually, it is rather annoying Kelly,” I replied. “Every time I want to taste the food, I’ve got to use two hands: One to lift the veil and the other to fork the food into my mouth.”

Kelly laughed as we then sat down to eat but after five minutes of the veils and hoods, we agreed to remove them and finish dinner with our faces free of any veils! After dinner we headed off to our separate bedrooms for a well earned sleep.


The case takes a strange new turn:

I was woken at six-thirty the next morning by the telephone:

“David, its Erin,” said the voice on the other end of the line. “We’ve just intercepted a ship sixty miles off the coast of Kumar City and we think the missing American girl (Karen) and British girl (Lauren) may be on the vessel. Ausaf is on his way to collect Kelly and yourself and we’ll meet at the federal police building where a helicopter will take us to the ship. Don’t forget to remind Kelly to be veiled before she leaves the house?”

Within an hour, Kelly, Erin, Amara and I had been flown by helicopter to a waiting coastguard ship and transferred to the Dutch registered vessel where Erin thinks the two missing girls are being held.

“We think the two girls are locked in this cabin miss,” explained one of the Kumary coastguard officers to Amara.

After a little fracas, the door was unlocked from the other side and we were all faced with a tall female, wearing a bright red zentai suit that covered her entire body, the same garment worn by Stacy and her kidnapper last week in Gibraltar.

“Where are the girls,” I demanded as the red zentai clad girl pointed towards the neighbouring cabin, which was locked but the keys were hanging in the keyhole on our side of the door.

As I went to unlock the door, the zentai clad female tried to make a run for it but as I grabbed her right arm, Amara was right there with me and soon we had her hands in handcuffs, locked securely behind her back.

“Time to see who she is,” I suggested to Erin ad Amara. “But in the mean time Kelly and I will go into this cabin and see if the missing girls are here.”

Once inside the cabin, Kelly and I found two Burqa clad females sitting on two beds side-by-side in the small cabin. They struggled to their feet and MUMPTHED some gagged response to our arrival:

“It’s okay ladies, I’m DCI David Jones from the Met and this is detective Kelly Jones from the Washington PD,” I introduced.

The Girl on the left forced herself into my arms and continued to MUMPTH a scream. I then asked if I could remove her Burqa, so she nodded a positive response. Once I lifted the heavy red satin Burqa from her body, I was faced with another layer below. The girl was also wearing a bright red zentai catsuit. There was also a chain around her neck and this was attached to a pair of handcuffs that locked her hands behind her back. I then pulled down the rear zip of the catsuit and soon I came face to face with one of the missing white girls. Finally, I picked the knot in the long black silk scarf (Cleave gag) that was wrapped twice around her face and tight about her long blonde hair. As soon as the silk scarf fell from her face, she spat out another wad of black silk.

“Thank you so much sir, I’m Lauren from London,” explained the young lady, still bound in handcuffs.

As I freed Lauren, Kelly was freeing Karen who was also blonde, just like Lauren. Sadly Karen was in a worse state due to the additional week she had spent in captivity, travelling the Atlantic to Europe first, where Lauren boarded the ship to Kumar. After only a few minutes of reassuring both girls that they were now in safe hands, I was unlocking their handcuffs and pulling the chain free from around their necks.

“What is the neck chain for,” I asked Lauren as I freed her hands?

“According to that bitch out there,” explained Lauren, “It stops us pulling our cuffed hands under our bums and bringing our hands in front where we might be able to overpower her.”

“That’s not cricket,” I replied, which got a smile from a clearly very scared young girl.

By now Erin and Amara had the female kidnapper’s hood removed and we came face-to-face with a girl of Middle Eastern Origin. She was now resigned to the fact that she’d been caught and pleaded for leniency from Erin and Amara. After she heard Kelly apologising for not having any clothes for the two kidnapped girls to change into, the kidnapper pointed Kelly in the direction of two cases lying in the room, which held Lauren and Karen’s cloths that they were wearing at the time they were kidnapped. I therefore left the cabin for ten minutes to allow Karen and Lauren to get changed but I heard them sobbing when Amara explained that they were in Kumar and they’d have to wear a Burqa as they left the ship.

“Hey David, I have an idea,” explained Erin. Maybe we could replace Lauren and Karen with two Kumary police officers and track them to the kidnappers,” suggested Erin.

“Do you not think that would be a little dangerous,” I replied?

“Hold on David, I think Erin might be onto something,” Kelly butted-in. “This vessel has still got at least three hours before it reaches Kumar City. If we replace Lauren and Karen with two police officers, we might be onto something.”

We discussed Erin’s plan which was fairly simple:

    1. We replace Lauren and Karen with two police officers;


    1. The female kidnapper get’s to complete the handover as usual, at the docks in Kumar City and


  1. We follow the two police officers to wherever they’re taken.

“Okay guys,” said Erin as she finished her briefing. “I’ll clear this with my chief and if he agrees that we should do a switch, I’m happy be one of the girls and hopefully Amara will join me.”

“Erin, I think you’re extremely brave,” I explained, holding Erin’s two gloved hands in mine and looking straight into her mesh covered eyes. “First of all, Karen was a larger girl and there is no way you could cover for her, even in one of the hideous Burqa’s.”

“Yeah but you could,” piped up Kelly. “Let’s face it David, no one will know you’re a guy under all that cloth and when you get to where the girls are being held, not only will the kidnappers get the shock of their life but Erin will have a guy to look after her.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” responded Erin.

“I also agree with Kelly’s plan,” said Amara as she picked up the dresses and Burqa’s that Karen and Lauren had been forced to wear.

Within an hour, Erin and Amara had discussed their plan and it was agreed that Erin and I would replace Lauren and Karen. We would then travel to Kumar City in their place.

“David, here are the cloths Karen was forced to wear, including the red underwear,” explained Kelly who was still wearing her formal business suit and Nijab that hid her face from me. “If you go into their cabin and put on the red bra and pants, followed by the zentai suit, we’ll help you into the bondage and Burqa.”

Little did Kelly know that I’d already tried on this outfit back in Gibraltar but I was excited to be getting another chance to wear this fantastic gear again but for much longer this time! Soon I was standing in front of Amara, Kelly and Erin who was also clad from head to toe in the red zentai suit that Lauren had been wearing.

“You look ridiculous David,” explained Kelly “But I really admire you for taking on this assignment.”

I then received a kiss on the Lycra covered cheek from Erin’s Lycra covered face:

“Please look after me David,” she pleaded as Kelly started to pull the chain around my neck and handcuff my hands behind my back.

With police officer efficiency, Kelly soon had my hands locked in the same way Amara had handcuffed Erin only a few minutes earlier:

“Now we’re really stuck Erin,” I teased!

She just stared back at me as Amara came up with another idea:

“I’ve suggested to Erin that she should be gagged just like Lauren and Karen were?”

“I actually think it is a bad idea,” Erin butted-in.

“It might add some risk to the operation,” Kelly now joined the conversation. “While it puts both you and David in a little bit more of a bind (pardon the pun), it will ensure that neither you nor David will give our game away by speaking because you’ll be simply unable to speak.”

“That’s what I’ve being trying to tell Erin,” said Amara.

All three girls then looked at me, I guess searching for some inspiration:

“I share all your views ladies,” I started. “Like Erin, I’d like to be able to speak but I’m here to find over thirty girls who’ve been kidnapped so I’ll do anything to ensure these girls are found, even if means I little more bondage.”

“I think you have a real kinky streak,” suggested Kelly who picked up the wad of still soaking wet silk that packed Karen’s mouth only a few hours before. “It’s settled then. Amara you gag Erin and I’ll gag David.”

With that, Kelly pulled back the zip at the top of my head, peeled the Lycra that covered my face and then stuffed the soaking wet wad of silk into my mouth. That completed, Kelly wound the long black silk scarf twice around my face and tied a double knot behind my head, effectively cleave gagging me. Soon the hood was popped back into place and zip pulled back up, sealing me inside the suit.

It was during this process that I saw Erin’s face for the first time. She was a blonde in her late thirties, early forties. Her long blonde hair was pleated and hung half way down her back. Her pale UK complexion was perfect (I guess it hadn’t seen much sun since coming to Kumar) and her tits stuck out in the tight red zentai suit with her hands now cuffed behind her back. It was a short lived vision of beauty as Amara soon had poor Erin gagged and her hood pulled back up, once again hiding her face.

“Time for the Burqa’s guys,” piped up Kelly as she picked up the bright red all encompassing tent that was soon pulled over my head, leaving no male features. Through the grill of my Burqa, I could see Erin was now being subjected to the same horrific treatment by our colleagues and friends.

That complete, Kelly and Amara explained that we should stay in the cabin until we arrived in the Port of Kumar. Erin and I headed in and sat down on one of the beds (beside each other) The female kidnapper joined us both, still wearing her red zentai suit and with her hands securely cuffed behind her back.

“Before you leave me in here Miss,” she asked of Amara, “Would please pulled up my hood and zip on my suit?”

“Sure if that is what you want,” replied Amara and she now veiled the female kidnapper in the same way Erin and I were also now veiled.

I heard the door being locked on the outside so I guess all three of us were now locked inside this cabin but only one of us could speak, the female kidnapper:

“You two are completely mad,” the female kidnapper opened the one-sided conversation.”You have no idea what you have let yourselves in for and it will probably get you killed! By the way, my name is Kosar.”

That was interesting I thought. Kosar sounds like an Indian name so what was she doing kidnapping white females and bringing them to Kumar? I would have loved to use the time locked in this cabin to find out why she did it and what was in store for us when we arrived in Kumar?

“I have no idea where you’ll be taken, when we arrive in Kumar,” Kosar went to say. “This was one of the Mistresses safeguards so even if I’m interrogated, which I guess I will be when we arrive in Kumar, there is no way that I can give up the whereabouts of the mistress.”

Erin and I stared at each other through the grills of our Burqa’s. In a way, we were mad and we had absolutely no idea what we’d let ourselves in for by accepting this challenge but gagged and bound as we were, there was nothing we could do to stop the process we’d started. It was several hours later when Amara and Kelly arrived back in the cabin:

“Okay ladies, it is time to go,” explained Kelly as she helped Erin and I to our feet and Amara took hold of the still handcuffed Kosar.

“What do you want me to do,” asked Kosar?

“When we get to the gangway,” replied Amara; “I’m going to remove your handcuffs. I must first of all warn you that there are over twenty armed officers hiding in the port and they have been instructed to shoot you if you attempt an escape. We want you to hand over our two Burqa clad officers as normal and head back to the ship where you will be retuned into our custody and taken to the federal police HQ in Kumar City (after we collect all the evidence collected in this cabin).”

With those instructions, we were now moving towards the gangway and the exit of the ship, not forgetting the heat of Kumar, which I knew was going to cause Erin and I a problem in these cloths. Amara then unlocked Kosar’s hands and removed her cuffs.

“Right you two; follow me,” she explained leading us both down the steps towards a waiting van.

As Erin, Kosar and I reached the bottom step, a single man (who looked like he was from Kumar) got out of the driver’s side and slid open the side door:

“Welcome to Kumar Lauren and Karen,” he said in a Kumarian accent, directing Erin and I inside the van.

We then entered the air conditioned van, which was clearly once a police van as Erin and I were put inside two separate cages, locking automatically as the caged doors slammed closed.

“Did they give you any problems,” he continued, passing a large envelope to Kosar.

“Nothing more than usual,” replied Kosar as she turned and headed back up the gang way and towards Amara, Kelly and serious jail time.

The side door of the van now slid closed and the man got in. We were now on our way (in captivity) to an unknown destination with absolutely no idea what was in front of us.


Our captivity begins:

The trip in the caged van took at least two hours along bumpy Kumary roads. It was early evening when the van slowed down and after honk of the horn, we seemed to be on the move again but only for a few minutes. The side door then slid open and through the mesh of the cage and the two layers of mesh that covered my eyes (grill on the Burqa and the grills covering each eye on the Zentai suit), I looked straight towards a black leather clad female figure:

“Good evening Lauren and Karen, My name is Padma or MISTRESS PADMA to you two,” explained the female figure that was covered from head to toe in black leather.

Her suit was therefore very similar to the bright red zentai suits Erin and I were wearing below the red Burqa’s but this vision of beauty stood at least 5-foot 11-inches in her knee high, high healed leather boots. She then instructed the man to unlock the cages and with some help, we stepped out of the air conditioned van and into a dark winter evening in the Kumar heat.

“You must be the American girl Karen,” explained Padma, helping me out of the van. “I’m sure you are exactly what our client ordered but dear knows why she wants a larger girl?”

I tried to reply with higher than normal pitched MUMPTH but Padma just laughed, reminding herself that Erin and I were both gagged.

“Girls follow your mistress,” demanded this leather clad mad woman as we were led inside a typical large Kumary house.

We were then led up some stairs and into a wing, via a locked door.

“These will be your quarters, during your training programme explained Padma as she pointed Erin into one open room and me into the opposite room. “I’ll be over to see you in a minute Karen but please make yourself comfortable.” as the heavy wooden door was closed and the locked turned on the other side.

I then wandered around my room, which was just like a large executive hotel room with large king size bed, desk and chair, plus a TV. The bathroom was luxurious also with separate shower and bath. It was then I heard the lock being turned in the door and Mistress Caroline rushing in:

“I guess you’re not Karen from Washington,” she yelled as she grabbed me, pulling my Burqa from my head, followed by the zip and hood that covered my face until now.

The look on Mistress Padma’s face painted a thousand pictures as she saw that I was not only not Karen from Washington but I was a man!

“Who the fuck are you,” demanded Mistress Padma as she peeled the gag from my mouth?

“I’m DCI David Jones from the Met and you my lady are under arrest,” I blurted out!

“How are you going to arrest me DCI Jones,” replied this angry leather clad lady, standing only a foot in front of me? “You’re still in handcuffs so I guess you’re the one that is really under arrest,” she laughed!

With that, the mad woman was gone and I was left alone in the hotel room. I’ve no idea how long it was before I heard my room door being unlocked and a strange red Zentai clad female figure entering my room. She was slim and tall like all of the other girls I’d seen wearing these zentai suits. She also wore a pair of flat leather boots that reached her thighs, which were red and matched her catsuit. She also wore a black leather belt with keys, several pairs of handcuffs and a tazer attached:

“Hello David, I am Ambuda and I’m going to be your companion during the first part of your stay.”

“Hello Ambuda,” I responded realising that this could be Jennifer Jones, the first girl to be kidnapped three months ago. “Are you Jennifer Jones from North London?”

“Yes,” replied the female who was clad from head to toe in a thick layer of Lycra with only two black mesh eye coverings staring back at me. “I was brought to this oasis in the Arabian Gulf nearly three months ago and I’ve adjusted well to my new life in the service of Mistress Padma. My name is now Ambuda.”

Jennifer (sorry Ambuda) went on to tell me that Mistress Padma was disappointed that her order for two American girls and a British girl had been ruined so until she decided what to do with Erin and I, we were going to be transferred to the punishment block, where we were both going to be taken now. Before exiting the room, Ambuda pulled up the hood covering my face once more and zipped it back into place.

“Even though you are a man David, you will be treated no different than any of the females in this sanctuary so you must remain veiled at all times while outside your room,” explained Ambuda.”

Ambuda then led me out of the really nice room and back down, through the large house and into the courtyard. We didn’t pass another sole on route to what must have been the stable block many years ago. After Ambuda unlocked and opened the outer door, I stood in what was probably a small cell block with five doors on either side of the short corridor. The first four cells on either side with left open and as Ambuda marched me towards the last cell on the left; I saw a picture of tiny rooms with a basic bunk and W/C:

“In here please David,” whispered Ambuda.

As I entered the tiny cell, Ambuda slammed closed the heavy steel door, locking it automatically. I then turned around and stood looking at Ambuda through the small open barred window, two-thirds of the way up the heavy cell door. A panel then half way down the steel door opened and Ambuda spoke:

“If you turn around David, I will unlock your hands.”

As soon as this was complete, Ambuda suggested I pull the chain from my neck now and hand the cuffs back to her through the open hatch.

“I’ll be back later with some dinner for you David,” explained Ambuda as she closed and locked the hatch. “I’ll leave the window open so that you can at least talk to Erin who is in the cell opposite.”

As Ambuda left the cell block, I called out to Erin who I was told was locked in the opposite cell:

“Are you there Erin,” I called out?

“Yes David I am here,” replied Erin from the cell opposite. “Are you okay?

“Yes I’m fine Erin but not too pleased to be locked in here right now,” I replied.

“I just hope Amara and Kelly are on route to rescue us,” Erin went on to say. “Hey David, I was brought to this cell by Lois, the first girl to be kidnapped from DC five months ago. Her name is now Amrita.”

“This is weird Erin,” I called out in response. “My so called companion is Jennifer Owens, the first UK girl to be kidnapped. Her name is now Ambuda. Why do you think they’re accepting their imprisonment?”

From our descriptions of Amrita and Ambuda it was clear both girls were wearing the same red Zentai suits that hid their entire bodies but why were they both happy to be here?

It was several hours later when Amrita and Ambuda returned with a tray in their hands:

“David, here is some food for dinner,” explained Ambuda as she slid the tray through the now unlocked and open hatch.

As soon as I had the tray, the hatch was closed and locked so I returned to the small table and chair in my cell and began to eat what was the best Indian food I’d ever had.

“That was fantastic Miss,” I explained when Ambuda returned to collect the tray.

“You may soon enjoy so much more about Mistress Padma’s Kumarian sanctuary,” replied Ambuda as she took the tray through the hatch, closing and locking it soon after. “Please go to bed David? The Mistress will decide what to do with you in the morning!”

With that, Ambuda and Amrita were both gone and the lights in the cell block had gone out. Erin and I were then left to wonder why we’d not yet been rescued and what was therefore going to happen to us tomorrow.

There was little light in the cell block. None of the cells had windows and the little sunlight that made it into the short corridor came from the small window on the door to the outside yard. Being an Islamic country, most properties in Kumar followed tradition so all windows on Kumary houses were inward facing and therefore most homes in this retched country  had courtyards and therefore little natural light was available until the sun was overhead during the hottest part of the day. Sleep had been broken that first night in captivity but I did mange some rest, still wearing the full body cover, provided by the zentai suit. I therefore still wore the red silk pants that had been given to me on the ship prior to the bondage being applied and I still had a chest, provided by the ample packing that Kelly had forced into the red silk padded bra that Karen had worn for hours, maybe days before:

“David, are you awake,” came Erin’s shouting from the cell opposite mine!

“I am now,” I replied, dragging myself form the small cell bunk and peering through the barred open window at the cell door opposite.

Like me, Erin stood peering back at me. She also had pulled the hood off her suit down and I could clearly see her dishevelled blonde hair and the marks on her face, where she’d been crying.

“Are you okay Erin,” I called back? “You look terrible!”

“I’m so scared David,” replied Erin. “I thought by now that we would have been rescued.

“I’m scared too Erin,” I replied “Let’s try and see this case through.”

“I know David but it isn’t easy,” Erin continued crying.

“I have to say, I think you’re a really attractive girl Erin,” I tried to change the subject. “I’ve no idea why you would ever want to live in this retched country where your beauty is hidden by veils, masks and Burqa’s?”

“Can I be completely open and honest with you David,” asked Erin who had stopped crying and smiled back at me through the bars of her cell.

“Of course you can Erin,” I replied.

“I’ve always been really kinky,” Erin explained. “I have always loved the idea of veiling and seeing woman wearing the Burqa in London, I really wanted to see what it would be like to have no option to wear veils and Burqa’s. The chance came when I saw the advert in the Met magazine and I suppose I got my wish.”

It was then the outer door flung open and we stopped talking as the noise of stiletto heals came marching down the corridor.

“Well my dear, you have come to the right place,” explained Mistress Padma, who was now standing outside Erin’s cell. “I think my client in India will like you my dear Nistha.”

Erin just looked blankly at Padma through the bars on her cell door and like me, I guess she was wandering who the fuck Nistha was:

“Yes my dear,” Padma continued. “From now on, you’ll be known as Nistha, which means devotion.”

Padma then turned towards me and stared:

“And what am I going to do with you,” she asked? I had an order for a slightly overweight white American girl and a slim English girl. I’ve now got Nistha who I know my client will be happy with so until I know what is to be of you, you’ll be known as Rachita, which means created in Indian.”

With that, Erin (sorry Nistha) was instructed to turn around and allowed to be cuffed by the Mistress. With her hands now secured behind her back, my last vision of Nistha was her been re-hooded and led away by the mistress. I however remained in the cell for another few hours until Ambuda returned:

“Rachita, please pull your hood up and zip your suit closed,” demanded Ambuda who was now stranding in front of my cell door wearing the same body covering she wore yesterday.

As soon as the hood on my body suit was replaced, Ambuda demanded that I turn around to enable her to handcuff me. As soon as me hands were secured, Ambuda entered my cell.

“Follow me,” she demanded so I exited the cell for the first time since last night and we headed out into the back yard or garden as I was told it was called.

Standing in front of me was Nistha, Amrita and the mistress. I could easily tell them apart as the mistress was dressed in her black leather suit and while Nistha and Amrita were wearing the same red suits, Nistha’s hands were cuffed behind her back.

“Rachita and Nistha,” shouted the mistress! “You have come to my house with the prime job of deceiving me and causing me pain. Until I know what to do with you Rachita, you’ll remain within the punishment cells but you Nistha have the opportunity to live a long and happy life under the spell of Purdah and therefore the Burqa you love so much. Are you prepared to accept your new life?”

Nistha then turned towards the leather clad mistress and yelled at her:

“You are a fucking mad woman and will burn in hell when David and I are rescued from this sick and deprived world! I will never submit to your sick perverted world!”

Without saying a word, the mistress nodded at Amrita who unlocked Nistha’s hands but before Nistha could do much, the mistress had them locked together but in front this time. Nistha was then led to a frame, where her handcuffs were hooked to a chain, which in turn was hauled into the air, Nistha following it until she was barely able to stand on her toes.

“Now Rachita,” demanded the mistress and following the same ritual, my hands were now cuffed in front and I was attached to a frame only six feet from Nistha!

The zips to our zentai hoods were now pulled back and with the face part of the hood left in place, our backs were left naked to the outside world.

“Nistha, I give you one last chance to submit,” demanded the mistress as she took a whip from her belt!

“Go fuck yourself was Nistha’s last words before the first stroke of the long whip came down on her bare back, with the most almightily crack that caused poor Nistha to scream in agony.

Another four cracks followed before the mistress asked the same question as Nistha slumped in her bonds breaking down in tears.

“Go fuck yourself,” whispered Nistha is response.

What happened now surprised me even more. It was now my turn for a whipping and after ten lased of the mistress’s whip I was now slumped in my handcuffs, in more agony than I’ve ever been in my life.

“I’ll ask you again,” said Mistress Padma in a relaxed voice. “Do you submit?”

Nistha then looked at me only six feet away, slumped in agony with my wrist bearing the full weight of my body in the handcuffs:

“I’m sorry David, for you I must submit.”

“There, wasn’t that easy.” Yelled the mistress! “Take them to their quarters were the last words I remember as Ambuda released me from the frame and led me bleeding, back to my cell.

And that is where I remained for the next week:

The days were long and boring. To be frank, I’d no idea what was day and what was night. By now Ambuda was closing the small barred hatch on my cell door and no light came through into my dark dungeon. I therefore had to assume that morning actually started when Ambuda came to my cell with breakfast each morning. I have to admit that the food was excellent but spending my days in a tiny locked cell was driving me up the walls. After breakfast Ambuda would come back and handcuff my hands behind my back. I was then led to a small shower block at the end of the corridor. This is where I saw my only sunlight during this long first week in captivity. After going through the barred gate, Ambuda locked the gate behind me, removed my handcuffs and handed me another set of clothes to wear that day. The clothes were always the same:

    1. A pair of red satin panties but half way through my first week in captivity, the pants changed to ride higher on my waist with a tight waist band that seemed to pull my stomach in.


    1. A red satin bra, which again changed through the week to include more padding, which gave me a much larger female cleavage.


  1. Finally, I was given a fresh zentai suit. Like all the zentai suits I was given, each was made of bright red Lycra and covered my entire body.  The only area that was not red was the two black mesh eye coverings that enable me to see but not very well in the dimly lit cell block.

After I showered, shaved and used the toilet, Ambuda returned and handcuffed me once more; always with my hands behind my back!  I was then led back to my cell and locked in for the rest of the day (until the next morning). I should point out that each morning after my breakfast and shower; I was left handcuffed until lunch time. This was the worst part of my day because I couldn’t even remove the hood on my zentai suit as I’d no use of my hands! Lunch time would arrive with Ambuda finally removing the handcuffs via the small hatch half way down the cell door. Another tray of fantastic food was pushed through the hatch and that was the last I saw of Ambuda until it was time for dinner. Each evening (my favourite part of the day) she would come back; handcuff me (behind my back as usual) and enter the cell to check on my welfare, especially the welt marks on my back from the ten strokes I got on day-one. Ambuda would sit on my cell bunk and we would chat for a hour or two. She continued to tell me how Nistha (Erin) was getting on and how she asked about me each day.

“You know that girl has a thing for you Rachita,” Ambuda would say every evening.

Ambuda would then try to tell me how much she enjoyed her new life with Mistress Padma for I somehow doubted that this English rose could ever accept a life of imprisonment and veiling but I sat and listened to her each night as Ambuda told me how her day was and how Nistha’s training was going on:
“You must know Rachita, Nistha really enjoys veiling and that is why she came to Kumar in the first place,” Ambuda would constantly remind me.

It must have been Monday morning when things changed. I knew this because I had counted the breakfasts Ambuda had brought me. This morning was different because after having my shower pulling on the pants and bra, I noticed this zentai suit was different. Everything was the same except for a zip around the mouth area, which was zipped closed at the moment but I tested it find out I could access my mouth without removing the hood of my suit. I guessed this meant some devious new aspects of my captivity but for now I decided to continue without causing any trouble. After dressing, Ambuda handcuffed but in another change in routine, my hands were cuffed in front! I was then taken back to my cell and my handcuffs were connected to a hook, high on the cell wall. I thought this a little weird because Ambuda left me locked in the cell facing the wall and not with my back to the wall. Around twenty minutes passed when she returned:

“Rachita, the mistress has demanded that you take more of a female figure so I’m going to start your corset training” explained Ambuda as she approached with a bright red leather corset, which she started to place around my torso.

After the corset was tightened around me, cutting off my ability to breathe properly, Ambuda would remove my hands from the wall and carefully removing my handcuffs, she locked my wrists into handcuffs that hung at the side on my corset.  As soon as Ambuda had corseted me, she then took the bright red Burqa from the hook on the cell wall and pulled it over my body. This is how I remained until lunchtime, where my routine in captivity had also changed:

Ambuda would enter my cell at lunchtime with a tray of food and placing the tray on the desk; she would remove my Burqa and hang it once more on the cell wall hook. That complete Ambuda, unzipped the mouth on the hood of my zentai suit and begin feeding me.

“Why are you feeding me Ambuda,” I asked that first mooring of the changed routine?

“Because you can’t feed yourself dummy,” replied Ambuda. “Look your hands are attached to your corset and they can’t reach your mouth so someone has to feed you or you’ll starve!”

“But you could free my hands, just like you’ve done for the last week,” I continued to push.

“I could Rachita but that is not the mistresses wish,” replied Ambuda. “In many eastern cultures, some females are seen as special and therefore they receive special treatment. You are special Rachita and therefore I am here to care for you until you’re new companion is ready.”

I thought to myself, who will be my new companion and why are things changing around here but I didn’t push Ambuda too far as she wasn’t keen to talk openly with me. After lunch Ambuda placed the Burqa back over my head and I remained locked in my cell until dinner, when she repeated the feeding process and stayed for an hour to talk with me. After dinner Ambuda removed my corset and after allowing me to take a piss (clearly for the last time that night), Ambuda placed my arms into a black leather arm binder, which buckled my arms together and folded in front of my chest. This is how I stayed in my cell overnight, now unable to even use my hands!

This change is routine continued for another week five days. This means my captivity took on a whole new theme with strict bondage being added to my already monotonous life in a tiny prison cell but this boring world I was now living in remained for another five days, when Ambuda stopped attending to me and I was introduced to my new companion.


My New Companion:

Sometime during my third week in captivity, things changed again. I think it was a Monday morning but I really had no idea as I’d lost complete track of time, stuck in this hell hole when I heard the outer door to the cell block being opened. I struggled out of bed, still wearing the zentai suit I’d worn since yesterday morning with my arms folded in front and buckled into the black leather armbinder. As I got to my feet, the cell door opened and in walked a new girl (I think), wearing the bright red Burqa I’d been forced to wear during the days since Ambuda changed my routine and started to corset me each day. She headed straight for the desk and set down the tray she’d been carrying in her Lycra clad hands. Either this girl was wearing long gloves or her body was shrouded in the same red zentai suit that all females seemed to wear in this house:

“Good morning Rachita,” came the familiar voice of Erin from behind the tent that covered her entire body. “My name is Nistha and I’m your new companion.”

“No Nistha, you are Erin from the UK,” I replied but this Burqa clad girl came up to me and put one of her Lycra covering fingers against my lips:

“No Rachita, I am Nistha and I’m here to look after your every needs,” Erin (sorry Nistha) continued.

Nistha then started to feed me breakfast but I tried to remind her that Ambuda normally released my arms in the morning for breakfast:

“Sorry Rachita,” Nistha continued. “I am still in training and I cannot release you!”

After being fed breakfast, the routine continued as previous with a shower and a change of clothes. That evening Nistha sat down to talk to me:

“I’m sorry David I’ll have to whisper,” explained Erin who was now trying to communicate properly with me. “I’ve no idea what has happened to Kelly, Amara and the police in Kumar. The mad woman, Padma or mistress Padma as she forces me to call her; explained three weeks ago that she had the Kumary police on her payroll and Ausaf, Kelly and Amara had an unfortunate car accident while following us from the post.”

“Are they okay,” I asked in a concerned voice?

“I believe so,” replied Erin.  “I’ve been told that Kelly was shipped back to the States and Amara is still in hospital in Kumar City but the most important thing to know: no one is going to rescue us David!”

“We need to escape Erin,” I continued. “You’ve obviously spent time on the outside while I’ve been locked in here all the time. Have you come across any routes out of here?”

“No; not yet,” responded Erin. “I’ve also been locked up and bound like you but I have to say that I’ve been kept in much better accommodation. I can’t believe you’ve spent the last three weeks in this tiny cell.”

“Erin, it has been terrible,” I started to sob. “I know that I’m a little kinky and quite enjoy these clothes I’m forced to wear but being locked in this cell is driving me nuts.”

“There, there,” Erin confronted me, putting her Lycra clad arms around me. “Like you, I love veiling, bondage and wearing these wonderful clothes. I might even like the idea of this lifestyle but I promise you that I will find a way out of this mad place!”

Erin then put me back into the leather armbinder that meant I was about to start another long night, locked in the cell and bound! This went on for another week so as time went on, Erin or Nistha as I started to call her so that we never drew attention to ourselves. On the following Saturday lunch time, Nistha entered my cell with a spring in her step:

“We might have some good news Rachita,” explained Nistha. “It is clear from what I now know; this is only a staging post. The Mistress kidnaps girls from the US and UK, brings them here and brain washes them, before selling the girls on to wealthy men and woman. According to the rumours I’m hearing, a wealthy Indian lady is on her way here to buy us or maybe just me.”

“What do you mean, maybe just you,” I questioned as Nistha popped some more food into my mouth.

“Remember Rachita that Lauren and Karen were both kidnapped to order,” explained Nistha? “Well this extremely wealthy lady from India ordered a skinny blonde English girl and a slightly larger American girl. According to Lois who I have to say has been completely brainwashed along with Jennifer; the lady is on her way to review her purchase. She knows that you are a man but the mistress has told her that you are happy to dress as a girl and could therefore provide additional services that can’t be provided by a girl. I think she is demanding a higher price so if negotiations go well when she gets here tomorrow (I think) then we’ll be taken to India and hopefully a better chance of escape.”

I agreed with Nistha that this was probably our best chance of escape so I agree to go along with whatever plan she arranged. The next morning after being washed, shaved, corseted and the Burqa placed over my body, I was taken out of the cell block by Nistha for the first time in nearly a month. The morning sun made me see almost clearly for the first time for long, but soon its heat started building under my layers. Nistha led me to the middle of the courtyard where Mistress Padma, still wearing her black leather all encompassing suit, was sitting having breakfast with another lady, who was dressed in a sari but with scarves hiding her head and face:

“Madam Vela, can I introduce you to Nistha and Rachita,” Mistress Padma opened the conversation.

“Nice to meet you Nistha,” said Madam Vela as Nistha went down on her knees to kiss the gloved hand of this tall silk covered lady.

“Nice to meet you Rachita,” said the madam next. I guess I was now selling myself so following Nistha’s lead I went down on my knees and kissed the wonderful hand of this new mistress and hopefully our ticket out of here.

“I must congratulate you Padma, you’ve done a wonderful job training these two,” explained Madam Vela.

“Actually Vela, I have only trained Nistha,” Mistress continued. “Rachita has been kept locked up in my cells for the past month and not even seen the light of day. I think he/she is naturally submissive and with a penis, I think you will get so much more service from this one but for now she remains in bondage.”

Mistress Padma then summoned Ambuda:

“Ambuda, please take Rachita to the guest suite,” she demanded.

“Vela I suggest you go and have a closer look at Rachita before committing to buying her? Our agreement means you will take Nistha anyway so if you like Rachita, then we can come to a special deal,” continued Mistress Padma.

With those demands, Ambuda led me to a most wonderful suite just like I’d experienced but only for five minutes when I was first brought here.

“On your knees Rachita,” demanded Ambuda as she pushed me to the floor. “Madam Vela will be up in a few minutes to look over you. You will be polite and not speak until spoken to. You will remain on your knees unless instructed by Madam Vela to stand. Failure will result in a whipping!”

The rules now set out, Ambuda left the room, locking the door behind her but I didn’t have to wait long until this tall silk covered lady entered the luxurious room with beautiful dark piercing eyes clearly visible between the top of her headscarf and the thick band of silk scarf that had been folded and tied, covering her mouth to the top of her nose:

“So Rachita, are you prepared to obey me and serve my every desires,” asked this wonderful silk covered Goddess in an Indian accent?

I just nodded in agreement.

“You can speak Rachita but you must address me always as madam or madam Vela,” she demanded.

“Yes Madam Vela,” I replied. “I would be honoured to do whatever you desire of me.”

With that, Madam Vela pulled the heavy satin Burqa off my head and looked straight into my mesh covered eyes. Next she unzipped my hood and pulled the Lycra from my heard:

“You are a handsome one,” explained Madam Vela. “So do you enjoy dressing as a slave girl?”

“Yes Madam Vela,” I replied. “I will dress in whatever you deem fit for me to wear but I’m afraid I will never look as beautiful as you.”

With those encouraging words, the Madam lifted her long silk dress and ordered me to remove her silk pants. I eased myself towards her and using my hands as best I could within the confines of the handcuffs that kept my writs to the side of my leather corset, I eased the Madam’s silk pants to the floor. She stepped out of the them and I came face-to-face with her long legs, which were clad in white silk stockings. It was then I did something that I’d done many times before when I was with Sharon my ex-wife. I used my tongue to bring Madam to the boil over the next fifteen minutes. I knew that I had to tease her clit and ensure she didn’t come too quickly but I also wanted to give Madam Vela the orgasm she so desired. When she finally did explode Madam had my head pushed hard into her crotch and only released me for air as her orgasm subsided:

“That was wonderful Rachita so far so good but let’s have a look at your manhood,” she explained, ordering me to my feet.

By now, my dick was hard as a rock and dying for release himself. That was all I had to amuse myself during the long days and nights while locked in the prison cell until bondage was added to my day and night attire.

“My my, you are excited,” teased Madam Vela as she unzipped the crotch opening on my zentai suit and pulled my penis free from the red silk pants I wore below.

“Do you approve, my goddess Vela,” I asked in the most submissive of voice I could deliver, bearing in mind that she was now probably my only ticket out of this place.

It was then Madam Vela pushed my prick back inside the pants and pulled the crotch zip of my zentai suit back up.

“Wait there,” she then demanded, I’ll be back in a minute.

I then dropped to my knees but was ordered to stand as Madam Vela headed for the ensuite bathroom, with her pants in her hand. I then thought about escape as the door to this luxurious room was left open. I was still handcuffed so I decided to be patient and look for a better time to escape, which was the right decision as Madam Vela returned with a wet cloth in her hands. As she approached she wiped my face clean and then did something very unexpected:

“Stand still my sweet Rachita,” requested Madam Vela as she began to pull the scarf from her head. It had been tied Grace Kelly style around her neck.

She picked at the knots behind her neck and pulled the brightly coloured silk scarf from her head. Her long black hair fell from her headed leaving a brightly coloured scarf folded into a triangle and tied over her face, providing a wonderful silk scarf veil. Madam then picked at the knot on this scarf too and soon I saw for the first time the beauty of this incredibly sexy lady of Indian origin. The most surprising thing she did next was to take my head in her gloved hands and bring her lips to mine, kissing me passionately. As surprised as I was, I didn’t want to disappoint this elegant beauty that might soon be my mistress. Our tongues then wrestled in each other’s mouths as the passion built into a frenzy.

“Do you like me Rachita,” asked Madam Vela?

“Yes Madame Vela, I like you very much,” I responded mesmerized this Indian beauty who stood only a foot or two in front of my face. “You are like a goddess!”

“That is very kind of you Rachita, would you like to come back to India with me,” she teased?

“I’d like nothing better my India Goddess,” I replied, milking this for everything it was worth.

“That’s settled my sweet Rachita. Both you and Nistha will travel back to India with me this afternoon,” explained Madam Vela as she started to veil her face again with the wonderful brightly coloured silk scarf that was now folded into a triangle and tied behind her head.

Next the head scarf was retied Grace Kelly style and I was told to wait in this bedroom until she returned for me. I heard the lock being turned in the door so there was no escape but did I now actually want to escape? What was I staying, had I been brainwashed or just fallen for this eastern beauty who wanted me as her slave.
As I heard the key turn in the door, I feel to my knees, not knowing who was approaching but it was Ambuda:

“It is great news Rachita, Madam Vela is delighted with both you and Nistha so you’ll soon be on your way to India,” screamed Ambuda as she entered the room where I knelt.

I smiled back at Ambuda who was clearly happy and she could see that because Madam Vela had not pulled my hood back up, prior to leaving the room:

“Oh how untidy of Madam Vela,” scolded Ambuda. “I’d better get your head covered again before Mistress Padma sees you.”

Ambuda then pulled the hood over my face and head, hiding me once more from the outside world. It was then that the bright red Burqa was once again pulled over my body and I was taken back to the cell I spent the last month in.

“Oh please Ambuda, please don’t lock me back in here,” I pleaded.

“Relax Rachita, it is only for one more night because you’ll be travelling to India tomorrow,” comforted Ambuda as she slammed and locked the cell door behind me.

Later on that Saturday, Nistha came to my cell with dinner as usual:

“Isn’t it great news Rachita? We’re both leaving for India tomorrow. I’m allowed to spend the next couple of hours with you tonight because Mistress Padma is entertaining Madam Vela and therefore Ambuda and Amrita are assisting her.”

“If they’re all busy Nistha, can we not make a run for it now,” I asked?

“This place is a fortress,” explained Nistha. I have keys here to your cell door, the outer door to the cell block and even the keys to your handcuffs but I’ve no keys to the outside doors so how do we climb over a 12-foot wall?”

“I suppose you’re right Nistha,” I gave in. “Since you have the keys to these cuffs, can you please unlock me?

Nistha then pulled the Burqa from my head and sat back and looked at me straight in the mesh covered eyes:

“Rachita, if really turns me on, seeing you in bondage,” explained Nistha.

It was then our Lycra covered lips met and passion between this beautiful blonde began. We wanted to tongue each other but we couldn’t. Both our faces were veiled behind the thick red Lycra of our zentai suits and without the use of my hands, which were still locked into the handcuffs that attached to the sides of my leather corset:

“I think we can take this a little further,” explained Nistha as she pulled the zip on the back of her hood, revealing a beautiful pale face and extremely long platted blonde hair.

Nistha then pulled at the zip on my hood and soon my face was free of the Lycra veil and kissed passionately for another ten minutes.

“Well that was a pleasant surprise,” I teased, coming up for air.

“Rachita, you have no idea how horny I am right now and how turned on I am with you in the zentai suit, corset and cuffs,” replied Nistha.

“Well Nistha,” I responded. “You have the power to release these cuffs and we can take this to the next level!”

Nistha just looked back at me and explained that she just enjoyed seeing me in bondage and looked forward to being able to move forward with me at a more appropriate time. We kissed again and then she pulled up her Lycra mask, hiding her face behind the red Lycra. As Nistha reached for the zip, I came in for another kiss but this time my mouth was free from any veiling and hers wasn’t:

“Hey, that’s not fair,” teased Nistha as she pulled my hood back over my face and used the zip to seal my head once more.

Nistha then explained that she wanted to prepare me for the night. I asked to be released from bondage on the last night in the cell but sadly this was not to be. I could obviously have overpowered this blonde girl as soon as my hands were unlocked from the cuffs but I didn’t want to risk any chance of not leaving this hideous place tomorrow. After a short trip to the toilet and my arms being fixed in front (in the leather arm binder), Nistha was gone and I was once again locked inside the tiny cell that I’d now come to hate so much.

I was extremely restless during that last night in Mistress Padma’s cell. I badly wanted to pace the cell but having my arms folded in front and buckled into the leather armbinder meant getting back into the bunk and puling the duvet over me was nearly impossible. I simply lay there until sleep finally took over during sometime through the night.

Morning finally came with Ambuda unlocking and appearing in my cell, wearing her uniform of the bright red zentai suit, with her face hidden behind the built in Lycra hood:

“Good morning sleepy head,” she announced as she bounced into my cell. “Time to get up Rachita and get ready for the long journey ahead.”

“Nice to see you again Ambuda,” I commented. “So where is my new companion Nistha this morning?”

As I struggled out of bed to begin the my normal routine, which ended in another day locked in my cell, Ambuda explained that Nistha was getting ready for the journey also and I would soon see her as we travelled to India together. Ambuda released me from the armbinder this morning and in a strange turn of events and a little freedom, she explained that she would leave my cell door unlocked so I could go to the shower room myself and get ready for the long day ahead. Ambuda then set down my breakfast and warned me not to try anything silly as the outer door to the cell block would be locked and there was no escape for me. I agreed to work with her and after eating breakfast, which was up to the usual high standard, I removed my zentai suit and headed to the shower naked as the day I was born. At one point, while spending far too long in the shower, I hear Ambuda entering the cell block and shutting the barred gate to the shower room, meaning I was again locked into a small area, with no chance of escape. As I shaved my face, I could see Ambuda standing in front of the locked bars, staring at me, with a towel around my waist.

“Do you know something Rachita?” asked Ambuda, “I am going to miss you very much Rachita.”

“Nice of you to say that Ambuda,” I responded and wiping my face as I turned to face the girl I was here to rescue but didn’t seem like she wanted to be rescued.

“Okay Rachita, turn around because I want to handcuff you,” demanded Ambuda and without thinking, I did as I was asked and I was soon out of the shower area and heading back towards my cell.

The first thing I noticed as I entered my cell was an array of bright blue silk on my bunk.

“What is this,” I asked? “Is it a blue day today?”

“Sort of,” replied Ambuda. “Madam Vela has her own idea of clothing for you and Nistha. I’m going to help you to dress now and prepare you for your long trip.”

Ambuda then closed the cell and from behind the hatch, she instructed me to approach for my wrists to be unlocked. That complete, I was told to go and get dressed in the cloths that were left on my bed.

The first thing I noticed was there was no zentai suit to wear. I had the job of slipping into a pair of tight blue silk pants and bra. Neither was that different from what I was used to except they were electric blue in colour. The next item I noticed was a pair of electric blue opaque tights. Now I love wearing tights in private as I really enjoyed how they made my legs feel when my thighs rubbed together while wearing them. This meant it was a joy to pull up the waistband and fix the legs that now hid every hair on my masculine legs. Next item of clothing was a corset. This one was electric blue to match the rest of my new outfit. As I struggled to see how I was supposed to lace it around my body, Ambuda returned to assist me.

“Rachita if you approach the door with your hands in front, I’ll get you cuffed up and then I’ll help you get that corset on,” requested Ambuda from behind the cell door.

Soon my hands were cuffed in front and attached to the cell wall above my head with me facing the stone wall. Ambuda then went to work on the corset, which I was now getting used to. I was beginning to enjoy the tightness these corsets offered but this was different because after Ambuda laced me up tighter than she had ever done before, the final surprise about this particular corset was a rear flap that zipped closed and locked into place by a tiny padlock, therefore hiding the laces behind a locked flap, with no way out, without access to a key.

“That should keep you out of trouble,” teased Ambuda as she slapped me on the arse and released me from the wall.

Ambuda then produced a pair of black leather knee high boots.

“You’ll love these Rachita,” explained Ambuda as she zipped both feet into the high heeled boot that were about to ruin my day so early on.

“With difficultly,” Ambuda laughed in response. “These boots weren’t made for walking sweetie but with practice so I don’t think you’ll be moving very fast in these for a while!”

I could see what Ambuda meant as I stood up in these boots with killer heels but next Ambuda picked up a silk dress for me to wear.

“That looks nice Ambuda,” I commented.

“You’ll love it Rachita,” replied Ambuda as she unzipped the rear and helped me step into the most wonderful lined silk dress I’d ever worn.

The bright blue silk dress had a high collar that was very tight around my neck as Ambuda pulled up the zip. She then unlocked the padlock, locking my corset (below) and muttering something that said she’d forgotten about this, Ambuda then reattached the padlock, which meant I was now  not only locked into the corset but also this wonderful silk dress, which now covered me from my neck to just above my knees.

“You look fantastic,” complemented Ambuda as she turned me around so I could look at myself in the mirror.

“Thank you Ambuda,” I replied; “But my male face just doesn’t go with this outfit!”

“We’ll sort that out in a minute of two,” replied Ambuda as she picked up a pair of long Lycra opera gloves in electric blue to match the rest of my stunning outfit. “I really should have put these on you before fitting the dress so please work with me as we get these over your arms?

It was clear these gloves were designed to restrict movement because I quickly realised that the fingers in the gloves were fused together so the use of my hands would now be extremely restricted. If that wasn’t bad enough, Ambuda then picked up a pair of Hiatt Speedcuffs, the brand of handcuffs used by cops in Britain and handcuffs I used many times myself.

“Please turn around,” asked Ambuda as I knew what was coming next?

With great care, Ambuda ensured the keyholes were out of reach even if I could use a key with these f’ing gloves on. She then double locked each cuff around my wrist, placing my wrists into what is known as the stack position. This is quite comfortable for long periods of time with your hands cuffed behind your back but it is very restrictive with very little movement of your hands availed to the wearer. I guess this is why we use this position to cuff prisoners in the UK so much!

“That’s better,” teased Ambuda as she turned me around. “I feel much safer now!”

“It might seem better for you but not for me,” I replied sarcastically. “How long will I spend in these then Ambuda?”

“You’ll spend as long as Madam Vela desires,” responded Ambuda.

Somehow I knew that was going to be her answer but I had to ask anyway.

“Have you anything else to say before I gag you Rachita,” asked Ambuda?

“I guess I should say goodbye Ambuda for probably the last time,” I replied as Ambuda approached stuffing a wad of silk into my mouth. Yes, this was bright blue as well so I guessed Madam Vela must have a thing about blue!

Next Ambuda picked up a long thin blue silk scarf and wrapped it twice around my face, effectively cleave gagging me.

“It was nice to meet you too David; sorry Rachita,” replied Ambuda (Jennifer) as she gave me a peck on the cheek.

Next Ambuda picked up a large silk scarf, which she folded into a massive triangle:

“I should warn you Rachita,” explained Ambuda as she wrapped the silk mass around my face, tying one knot behind my head and bringing the two ends around and under my chin to tie another double knot. “Madam Vela has a thing for veils so I think you should get used to this because I think you’ll be veiled for the rest of your life!”

I tried to MUMPTH a response into my gag but nothing really made any sense so Ambuda as she picked up the final scarf and folded it into another massive triangle, placing it over my head and tying it Grace Kelly style, exactly the same way Madam Vela wore her scarf veil and head covering when I met her last night.

I then stood back and looked at myself in the mirror. Boy did I look different! No longer did my male face make this silk dress look out of place. The scarf veil might have in the UK but not here in the Middle East. Yes, I did look a little overweight in this dress but the corset obviously went a long way to fixing that! My fake breasts were forced out under the pressure of the corset, tight silk dress but also because my arms were cuffed tightly behind my back in the stack position.

“Okay Rachita,” I’ll be back later to collect you and get you into a Burqa for the first part of the trip but for now, please stay in the cell,” requested Ambuda?

What else could I do, I thought to myself? I’m handcuffed and now locked inside this cell, where I’d been held against my will for weeks now. All I could therefore do is pace this tiny cell and await Ambuda to return for me and the journey to India ahead of me. It was then I reflected for the first time in weeks the reason I was in this bloody mess. I was in Kumar to find the missing American and British girls but the first two we found, didn’t want to be rescued. How could this be as who wanted to be held prisoner for the rest of their lives, a slave to some mad mistress or master? Who wanted to be forced to veil day and night and live their life behind the Burqa or the veil? Anyway, here I was, worrying about my future, veiled and bound; and about to be transported to India to live my life as a slave to Madame Vela. I also had a strange feeling that Erin (Nistha) was also beginning to like her new life of enforced veiling and bondage. It was clear she enjoyed living behind the veil in Kumar but why would she want to become the slave to some multi-millionaire dominatrix? It was during this reflection that I heard high heeled footsteps outside my cell door and the now familiar sound of a key being turned in the heavy iron door:

“Okay Rachita, time to go,” requested Ambuda who was still wearing the same bright red Zentai catsuit that covered her from head to toe.

I was now outdoors again and heading towards Mistress Padma and Madam Vela. The mistress was wearing her usual Leather outfit and Vela was dressed in the same bright blue silk that I wore. It was then I saw Nistha and Amrita also. Nistha was wearing exactly the same bright blue silk dress as me and her head was covered in the same way mine was and she also had the same blue silk scarf, veiling her face.

“Good morning ladies,” greeted Madam Vela as she kissed both Nistha and I on the veiled cheeks.

All either of us could do was MUMPTH into our silk gags in response.

“You have done a excellent job on them both Ambuda and Amrita,” congratulated Madam Vela. “I guess we all need wear our Burqa’s now if we going outside?”

With those words, both Ambuda and Amrita collected three heavy black Burqa’s and present the first one to Madam Vela.

“May I place this dress of modesty over your glorious body,” requested Ambuda in an extremely submissive voice?

“You may,” replied Madam Vela. “You have train this slave girl well Padma!”

“Ambuda and Amrita are my best projects to date Vela and I’m very proud of them both,” responded Mistress Padma. “I hope there will be more but until the police give up on their chase, for the foreseeable future, I’m going to lie low.”

As Madam Vela had her black tent placed over her blue silk covered body by Ambuda, Amrita was covering Nistha with an identical black Burqa, which likely would cook us all in this desert heat.

“You next my dear Rachita,” explained Ambuda as she approached me and lifted the incredibly heavy Burqa over my head.

This was the heaviest Burqa I’d worn to date and covered my entire body from head to toe. I could barely see through the thick black mesh that covered my eyes and breathing was becoming laboured as my silk gag caused me to drool into the silk scarf that veiled my entire face, now hidden below the heavy cloth of the Burqa that had just been pulled over my entire body.

“Time to go ladies,” requested Madame Vela as Nistha and I were led outside the compound for the first time and helped into the back of a Toyota mini-van.

Ambuda, Amrita and Mistress Padma all said their goodbyes and soon we were driving through the wilderness of this tiny desert island state (Kumar). About 30 minutes into our trip, we saw many police trucks and a familiar SUV with Ausaf driving and a female Kumary police officer in the back along with a woman in a dark blue burqa. Amara and Kelly? Then Kelly had returned from the States or the traffic accident had been a lie by Mistress Padma to put us off. I MUMPTHED hard into my gag but it was no use. Madam Vela who was sitting between Nistha and I in the back turned towards me and laughed:

“My darling Rachita, you are my slave now and as Mistress Padma has the Kumary police wrapped around her fingers, there is little chance you’ll ever be rescued. To be 100% honest with you Rachita, I’m confident that soon you’ll not want to be rescued. You’ll love you new home and the new wonderful life you’ll soon come to understand at my home in India.”

Again, there wasn’t much I could do except MUMPTH a response into my gag as we drove in the opposite direction to a destination unknown. But with Kelly still tracing us I had hopes she would continue to India as soon as learning we had been sold to Madam Vela.

An hour after leaving the compound and our prison for over a month now, Madam Vela, Nistha and I arrived at a quiet marina on the Gulf coast of Kumar. Waiting at the tiny port was a single motor yacht. It was a least 100 feet long and looked beautiful. With some difficultly Nistha and I were led out of the minivan and we stepped onto the large yacht:

“Good afternoon Madam Vela,” welcomed the female captain as we entered the spacious lounge area to the back of the yacht. “I see you brought your slaves with you.”

“Yes Captain, say hello to Nistha and Rachita,” replied Madam Vela. “You won’t see a lot of them on this trip as I’m going to take them below and get them settled into their cabin.”

“Very well Madam Vela,” responded the polite lady captain. “I’ll take us to sea immediately!”

With the introduction over, Madame Vela led Nistha and I downstairs and towards the front of this large boat.

“This will be your cabin ladies,” explained Madame Vela as she opened a door to a massive and extremely luxurious cabin at the very front of this boat. “I think we can dispense of the horrible black tents ladies!”

As Madam Vela removed her Burqa, she then removed ours and placed them inside an expansive wardrobe. As the Burqa’s were put away, Madame Vela lifted out two steel collars:

“I’m going to lock these collars around both your necks,” explained Madam Vela. “They’re special electric shock collars and they’re designed to ensure you two stay where you’re told.”

As Madam Vela removed our headscarves and veils, one-by-one, she locked the lightweight, thin collars around both Nistha’s and my necks. She then removed both our gags before finally replacing the silk scarves, veiling our faces and the headscarves that covered our head.

“From now on ladies, you will cover your heads and faces using these scarves,” demanded Mistress Vela. “You will do this or else…….”

It was then Madam Vela picked up a tiny remote control from belt and pointing it towards me, she pressed a button and I collapsed on the floor in agony.

“You see ladies; I will remain in control of you always,” explained Madam Vela.

She then left the cabin and dialled a code to the keypad just outside our cabin door:

“Nistha, follow me,” requested Madam Vela but as Nistha exited the cabin, she then fell to the floor in agony, next to me as I recovered from the electric shock I’d received only seconds before.

Madam Vela then continued with the ship rules as we headed out into the Arabian Gulf:

“Ladies, I’m going to unlock your wrists now. Any funny business and you’ll get the shock treatment that you’ve both just experienced firsthand. I’m going to leave you both locked in your cabin for a while to get used to your new surroundings. We’ll be at sea for five days so if you’re good, I will allow you to gain more freedom but for now, you’ll be comfortable in this cabin with each other for company!”

Madam Vela then unlocked our wrists but left the handcuffs in the cabin, explaining that she might from ask us to cuff ourselves from time to time but for now, enjoy what freedom we have. The cabin door was then closed and locked and Nistha and I just stood in the luxurious cabin, facing one another:

“This is much nicer than my cell,” I commented.

“Actually I had a fantastic room at Mistress Padma’s place,” replied Nistha. “This is nice though, come and have a look at the bathroom?”

“Hey Nistha, we have a TV and it works,” I screamed out in delight, switching on the flat screen TV attached to the cabin wall!

Nistha and I then fell onto our beds with CNN reporting Mistress Padma’s compound being raided by Kumarian police. Amara was being interviewed saying that they had spent five months now closing down this trade in white female slaves. The CNN reporter asked how many girls they’d found and Amara explained all but two. This could only mean Erin and I.

“Do you think we’ll get rescued next Erin,” I asked, sitting on my bed looking over at the beautiful but veiled Erin on the other bed, next to mine?

“I hope so David,” replied Erin. “I want to explore my fantasies of men in veils a little more but on my terms.”

Erin then approached my bed and we kissed through our silk covered faces.

“I know you like being veiled David so let’s try to enjoy each other’s company as long as we have it,” requested Erin.

We then agreed to continue the act and only call each other by our new names, NISTHA and RACHITA until we were free. This was going to be an interesting voyage to India but when would we get rescued?


Continued in Part 2 – A Sub Continental Adventure


Author: Ed Kilpatrick
E-mail: EdKBound@GMail.com



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