My Decision

My Decision

by PeRu

Read the original German version of this story:
Meine Wahl

I had finished my studies. For this I had spent quite some time. I had passed 40 when I got my degree in Economics. Money was not important to me, I had plenty. My parents had a big trading company which run very well. Unfortunately my parents died in a plane crash. It is now seven years ago. The company is now run by my uncles and aunts. They would have liked that I had kept studying because they did not want me to be involved in the company. They thought me incapable. I agreed, but it did not bother me, because I enjoyed my free life in luxury. My greatest luxury was that I could do what I wanted.

The company of my relatives (once my parents) was a large trading business mainly working in the Near and Far East. They also owned a number of large and small freight ships.

To improve business my numerous uncles and aunts had married at key locations, thus creating a large and influential network of contacts. Since I was not so happy to meet with my relatives I rarely used the network of relationships, although they probably wouldn’t mind. But I took advantage of the freight ships when traveling. So I was able to enter many countries with less customs formalities, and was able to always stay a few days or weeks in one place between two freighters. I needed only to make certain that I did not come in contact with the authorities or police. But in that I had considerable experience.

After I finished studying I went around the world with freighters like that. Always from one freighter to another. Mostly I did not know the port of destination until the ship was at sea. Like this I arrived at the island state of Kumar. Now I had been there for two weeks. Purdah, the custom of veiling of women, was followed very strictly here, and I had heard the penalty for not being veiled was very severe. In the two weeks that had passed not once I had managed to speak with a woman. Although I tried very often. I had never seen a single piece of skin or a strand of hair of a woman.

My attempts to contact the women had been noticed by the very common uniformed police patrols. Just as I once again tried to address a veiled woman, who wore a dark gray burqa, someone tapped on my shoulder. A shower of words was raining on me of which I did not understand a single word. I tried to discuss in English, but the only word which they could say was ‘identification’.

Now I panicked. I was here illegally and had no valid papers. I considered my options. The best solution I found was to run, but where to. In front of me were the two policemen and behind me was the door where the masked figure disappeared, who I had wanted to talk with. It looked like the entrance to a store.

I had to try it. I pretended I was looking in my jacket for my papers and with a quick movement I pushed the door latch, opened the door and slipped through. The two officers looked puzzled after me. Ironically they didn’t pursue me.

I entered a completely different world. It was a big room full of veiled figures. One burqa stood after the other in all colours and designs, from very simple to those with elaborate embroidery. It did not take me long to realise that this was a showroom and the sometimes elaborate burqas were just dolls. Because they did not move. Amazingly they were all at least 20 cm taller than me. This naturally made the whole scenery much more impressive. Fascinated I observed the different designs. Some of them were made of very expensive materials, one appeared to me particularly striking. It was made of an emerald green heavy satin. The material flowed down in thick folds and had a diameter of almost 2 meters. Where normally the eye mesh was this was elaborately decorated with golden letters. I walked on through the blaze of colours. Further back I was approached by the dark gray burqa, the one I had tried to address, I think. Outside I had not realised she was so much taller than me. She had the same size as the display dolls.

“Hello, I am Madame Converte, the owner of the shop. How may I help you? Have you selected one already?” she asked me in fine English with a slight accent.

This cheeky foreigner I will give a lesson. Why does he think he can bring me in danger and compromise my integrity by addressing me in public.

“Um, why are you now speaking to me?” I asked in surprise.

“You are now in my shop where as you can see I sell clothing and professionally tailored veiling. And in my store I’m of course allowed to speak with the customers. Only with customers.”

I hope he accepts this.

“Why did the two officers not follow me?” it finally came to me.

“Men are not allowed to enter this shop, unless they want to be veiled. Since they don’t want to do that, they didn’t enter. Surely they now call for a female officer to pursue you. But it will take some time to carry out. What kind of veiling do you want to wear? ”

Astonished I asked, “I thought all veiling was for women.”

“Yes normally, but from time to time enters a man who wants it, but it’s very rare.”

“I don’t really look for a veil.”

“Well young man, it’s not that easy here. Only customers may enter the shop. If you don’t want to buy anything you must leave. Immediately.”

If I now can bring the fear up in him it takes the right direction, much better than I thought. He even took my word that there are male customers.

“But the cops are still out there waiting for me.”

“That’s your problem, either select something or leave, that’s your decision.”

“What have I to fear if I go outside now?”

“Wait a minute, you have beeen observed several times wanting to address veiled women in public. This will be punished very hard. The minimum penalty which you’ll receive in this case is a public flogging. Until passing out. Our executioners are skilled to delay it so the painful session lasts for several hours.”

I think it works. As a foreigner he is only going to get a warning, but he doesn’t have to know that. Because in our country mainly the women are punished in these cases. If I had answered him outside it would be me threatened with flogging.

I wouldn’t risk that so I decided to buy something “Okay, I would like your advise.”

“For that I am here. So the black and the dark gray are for the common people, workers, I don’t think you want those. Each of the colours matches the class of the woman. E.g. dark blue is the well-off families, light blue women of small businesses, golden women of foreign representations, purple wives of sultans, emerald green wives of ministers, etc.”

“And why the different designs?”

He must under no circustance disguise himself as a worker, that would be too easy for him.

“The working woman should be able to move freely, she has to be able to work hard for up to fourteen hours a day. Movement gets more restricted the more employees one can afford. It begins with the hands, continue with the feet and in a few cases the voice, hearing, and finally the vision are affected. But only very rarely.”

“I would like to know how it is with the emerald green over there?”

Only not say too much about the bonds, I have to be careful not to deter him. But it’s a very good choice. I couldn’t have made a better. If I can sell him this, then he would be well provided for.

“It is a very good choice but there are many restrictions included.”

“I think it’s a good choice as well, I really like that outfit. If I have to buy something I like to have that, but without the restrictions.”

“This is unfortunately not possible, the emerald green is a very good choice that would fit you very well too. Even if you are male. It is one of our best pieces. Come and feel the fabric.”

Before she went on we went to the burqa and I felt it was a very fine solid material, I could not tell from what kind.

“You see it’s excellent fabric completely untearable. It has a special finish and practically never gets dirty. One doesn’t have to take it off to wash or clean. It will be a pleasure to wear for many years. It was developed specifically for unfaithful wives of a minister. It is unfortunately only used very rarely. There is unfortunately for me not many of them. Don’t get me wrong, I would very much like to sell this to you, but we only sell veils as complete outfits, that is you’ll have to be completely re-dressed from underwear and out.”

“Okay and when I dress like that I can simply take it off again when at home?”

“If that is what you want, you simply need to give the order to the maid. You need to have a trained maid to assist you. The maid is of course subordinate to you, she must do everything you tell her. If she refuses she must be punished. E.g. if you order her to undress you in public, which is against the law, and she refuses, then you have the right to punish her. What the lady wants precedes the law. As long as you don’t give her any other orders the maid is taking care of you in an appropriate manner. If you choose this form of veiling the training for the maid is included. The maid you already own or is going to get will be closely informed about how to take care of you in a manner appropriate for the class of this outfit. With you I’m even going to include the maid as a discount. I don’t think you have one yet.”

“Are they like the black or the dark gray? But what do I need a maid for?”

“Believe me if you buy this form of veiling then you need a maid. She will assist you in removing the clothes when you want that, because you can’t make it on your own. Yes they are mostly dressed in black and preferably mute.”

“Why mute?”

“This is a security measure, which is also required in the holy purdah, and is actually very useful preventing the maid from passing on your secrets.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Now you must decide if you want this B38. If not then you now have to leave immediately.”

“How much is it then?”

“15000 Kumar-dinar, including a maid for three months, the minimum term. Without recall she will be automatically extended every three months. But like I said, the maid is free to you as long as you need her. How do you pay, cash or card?”

I thought, well three months, I’ll wear it at most three days, then the next freighter arrives and I’ll be gone. With a smile I handed her my gold card and she disappeared between the burqas with it.

She returned followed by two black burqas. “Everything is okay, I congratulate you on your purchase, and we will do everything to ensure that you are satisfied with us. I now hand you over to our two best maids. Their names are not important, you’ll soon understand why. They don’t speak your language, is not necessary either. Please do not resist, let them do their job, because they know exactly what to do. They have received their instructions and are going to implement them in any case.”

Baffled at the statement I hesitated a moment, making her speak very urgent. “Come on, hurry up, the female police officer will soon be here, then you should be veiled. Only then you are secure.”

She gave some instructions to the two maids in their language, and each took one of my hands and they quickly pulled me away. We entered a kind of bathroom where the water was steaming in the tub. With skilled movements they stripped me until naked, and before I knew what happened to me my hands were joined on the back with handcuffs. Then they gestured me to climb into the tub. They helped me to sit down. It was an amazing sensation to repeatedly feel their gloved hands on my naked body. One held my head firmly from behind and the other put large contact lenses in my eyes. They were so large that they had to forcefully pull the lids apart. As soon as they were mounted I was blind. Completely blind.

Now I was thouroughly washed, during which I was several times submerged under the water. They scrubbed me so hard that all of my hair went off. The slight tingle on my skin turned into burning. When they were satisfied with their job I was helped out of the tub. I felt even more naked than before without any hair, it was all gone. Somewhat relaxed, after they had towelled me dry and rubbed me with a cooling lotion that did really well, I wanted to protest, but as soon as I opened my mouth, they stuffed a great ball into it and tied it firmly behind my head. Then I heard a giggle. Now they were even laughing at me.

I muffelte again in the gag, for which I once more received a giggle. Now the handcuffs were opened and a fine silk camisole was pulled over me that covered the entire upper body. Then they tried to take hold of my hands again but I quickly pulled them away. I did not want to be cuffed again. As soon as I had pulled them back I heard a whistle and the pain following made me feel as if my buttocks was cut in two. Before I could take my hands down to protect it yet two more blows had hit my buttocks. And then the blows hit my hands. The pain was still unbearable, as if my fingers had been broken. I moved my hands upwards towards the mouth to use it to relieve the pain, but with the gag it was useless. The fingers were luckily not broken. But the blows continued raining on my buttocks. I screamed into the gag and tears flowed from my eyes. I tried to escape but being blind I repeatedly hit a wall. Then I pressed my butt against the wall, but then they beat up my thighs, which hurt just as much as on the bottocks. The beatings continued until I lifted my hands up in front of me and allowed them to cuff them, after which they were slowly pulled upwards.

They continued pulling me up until I was standing on the tip of my toes. They rubbed the wounds with an ointment that at first burned lightly and then made the pain recede. Throughout the beating the two maids laughed. First I though of silk, as it felt very soft when stockings were pulled up my legs, but when they were attached at the top with a girdle they put a strong uniform pressure on my hairless legs.

They put something very rigid around my upper body which was then buttoned or hooked up the front. It extended from my neck to near mid-thigh. With fear I realised that this was a very rigid corset. While one maid started to close the lacing, the other dealt with my penis. I felt something cool on my glans and then a catheter was inserted. Following the penis was forced into a narrow tube where there was only just enough room in the flaccid state. The tube was then fixed to the front of the corset. She went behind me to deal with my anus. After she lubricated the rosette well a tube was inserted here as well which was wider at the top. Now they pulled something between my legs. It felt like a wide belt which I think was made of metal. When it was pulled upwards at my back it pulled my penis in the narrow tube between my legs to press against my body. A sudden fear for my testicles was in vain when they too came into designated spaces, and the tube in my anus was attached to the belt as well. The whole set-up was pulled tight at the back before it was fixed. Then the maid closed the lowest hooks at the front of the corset and helped with the lacing behind. When I had the feeling of being unable to breathe they stopped. It felt very rigid, but the pressure was evenly distributed all over the body except for the waist where it was somewhat larger.

Now they let me hang for some time. I was happy with this as I could get used to the tightness. After twenty minutes they started to work with my feet. They lifted the right foot as high as possible and put on a leather boot. I had to stretch my legs to slide into the tight sheath. Due to the stockings it reached the tips without problems but my foot kept being stretched. While the lacing was closed I realised that they were ballet boots. The shafts reached above the knees and there they were attached to the corset. Before long I was standing in rigidly laced ballet boots. With the shoes I was not able to more than just stand still. To make matters worse they took up the lacing of the corset again. My body was squeezed into the form of the boning, and they didn’t stop until it was completely closed. I was out of air and feared my ribs would break any moment. After the lacing had been tied off they pulled up a zipper up which made the laces covered, then I heard a click.

Well, I couldn’t open it myself anyway. I was almost dozing when my hands were taken down again. But fortunately the maids supported me. Then they led me around the room. I could only take very small steps as the corset pressed my thighs together. But I soon found out that the boots were so tight and rigid that I couldn’t twist my ankles. After some rounds they no longer had to support me, only to lead me. As long as I was moving I had no problems with balance. At some point during the walking they pulled something wet over my hands and arms up to the shoulders. It was very tight and in the end I had to clench my fists tight to accomodate the squeeze. They were gloves made of rawhide, I felt it contracting as it dried. The arms were now almost immobile and the fingers were pressed firmly together into a fist.

What had she planned with me? I just wanted to put this burqa on. I did not have to wait long for an answer. They led me up against a wall where they put a collar, which was attached to the wall, around my neck to have me standing facing the wall. My wrists were fitted with iron cuffs that held them tightly together. Then at the elbows and then at the upper arms. These were now pulled together until my elbows were almost touching and my shoulders pulled back. Only when further movement was impossible they stopped. I heard clanking and clicking again. Then my arms were further pressed close to my body with metal bands. Somehow I felt my arms could not move even an inch.

Madame Converte entered the room, checked the metal bands and said something in Arabic to the maids which I unfortunately did not understand.

“A job well done.”

“Yes thank you Madame, we have welded the locks shut to render them useless as you have ordered but now he will never get out of it.”

“He is not supposed to. What he wears now is made of the new material which never needs to be washed. He no longer needs to undress. You can go on.”

Now they put me in a dress without sleeves made from the same fabric as the burqa, only double-stitched, which when buttoned at the rear fitted closely around my body. If I could see I would not recognise myself, because I had a huge bosom, which was built into the corset, and a very small waist. The dress reached to the ankles and allowed me only very small steps.

Now my neck was freed from the collar that held my head to the wall and they helped me to kneel. I knelt on a soft pillow and they removed my gag. After some jaw movement I tried to say something. With the little air I was able to inhale my voice came out very quiet.

“It was about time. Let me immediately out of this. Such a strict bondage was not what we had agreed.”

“I have told you that with this kind of veiling restriction is used extensively. You only experience what all women here have to suffer, that shouldn’t be a problem for a strong man like you. That it is unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable that I can understand, but I just hope you are not in severe pain.”

I answered again with a voice out of breath: “Very unfamiliar indeed. But I have to say except that everything is very tight and I almost cannot move I’m feeling well and have no pain. But how can I manage without arms and hands, I can’t do anything like eating, drinking, writing, etc. And I’m blind too.”

“Your arms and hands are not needed anymore. The status of this burqa is that of the wife of a minister for whom all work for which the hands are used is done by maids. Therefore you don’t need them anymore. This gives you time for more important things. And I promise you’ll see everything you have to see”.

“Mr. Arns I need the code for your card to go through with the payment.”

“Of course I won’t give you my PIN-code, what goes through your mind.”

“Well then I have to hand you over to the police as you are. You are now pretty much dressed up and that can not be undone quickly. They will be happy to find you, a man, clearly dressed as a woman. This is in our country strictly prohibited. Surely no Muslim would think of doing that either. The public flogging for addressing a woman would feel like a party compared to the penalty waiting for you like this.”

“But when I’m fully dressed I’m still a man in women’s clothing.”

“Yes you are right, but I’ll make sure that under no circumstances you are recognised. I’ll give you my word for it. If you are recognised I’ll become your personal slave and my entire business is going to belong to you.”

“And for that you need my PIN-code.”

“Yes.”

To avoid these punishments I gave her the code.

“I thank you Mister, you’ll be satisfied with us.”

Next in turn was my head. First were soft tubes inserted deep into my nostrils. Then a soft leather hood was pulled over my head with a floppy rubber bulb attached. It found its way into my mouth and my ears were completely filled by rubber or wax plugs. The hood was laced. When the hood was tightened around my head I also noticed the incorporation of a rigid neck brace which now locked my neck in a tight grip. The bulb in my mouth was inflated. It pressed my tongue down and filled even the smallest space in my mouth. Now I was not just blind but deaf and dumb too.

Now I had to stand again and the maids pulled a dress over my head. It was tightly laced around my torso and it covered the head as well. The already tight hood became even tighter. I felt a lot of fabric around my legs.

Then another item was put over my head and fixed around the neck with a ring. Then the material was pulled below the waist where it was fixed with another ring. Finally the material was allowed to drop to the floor where it spread around me. This had to be the burqa.

A maid now helped me to walk around. It was not easy to keep the balance but it was getting better and with the help of the maid it went quite well. But with the small steps that I have been allowed I walked only very slow.

After much walking I heard a crack in my ears and the voice of Madame Converte sounded.

“You look very nice Fatima, the burqa fits like it was tailored for you. A woman of your class is not allowed to speak, and as in minister circles very often important business is discussed, it is for your protection that you cannot hear. Yes, headphones are installed in your ears, the person who has the remote control decides what you can and cannot hear. And now don’t be afraid, I’ll play a film for you.”

It suddenly became bright in front of my eyes, and then normal light. Slowly I was able to identify three figures. The first was Madame Converte in her dark gray burqa and opposite a figure in emerald green and next to her one in deep black. Madame Converte and the emerald green were about the same size and the black towered over both by a few inches.

“The one in the middle is you.” I heard her voice again. “This is the latest technology. I am able to show an image or a movie on your contact lenses. Not to be tempted, of course only what you are supposed to see.”

We were in the back of the shop and right at this moment two people entered. It was the female police officers. I recognised their uniforms and in addition their heads were veiled with scarves.

“Good day ladies. How can I help you?” Madame Converte welcomed the arriving.

“Good day Madame Converte. Yes, perhaps you can help us. Our colleagues have previously found Mr. Arns and observed that he entered this shop. Do you know if he is still here?”

From where did they know my name?

“Yes he was here to see his fiancee. May I introduce Mrs. Fatima Imhrih, the future wife of Mr. Arns. She is here about the veiling outfit for her wedding.”

The policemen looked closely at me and then said in unison:

“Only a foreigner could think of marrying a whore.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. But one must give Fatima her due. She stands with her past and it was her wish to wear this burqa until the wedding. She first removes this burqa when changing to the wedding dress.”

“Did she have the choice?”

“No, not really.”

“Then tell him when he perhaps returns, I would not think so just because of a whore, that his aunt Aysha Arns is looking for him. She had heard that he is staying in Kumar and she would like him to visit her.”

“Is that the only reason you are looking for him?”

“Yes, the family Arns are very influential in our city and they asked us to search for him.”

By Aysha I always got along very well. If so I’m going to change and come along. I wanted to speak, but now I learned how effective the gag is, not a sound was produced. When that did not work I wanted to walk towards them, but for the maid it was an easy task to hold me back. With the head I could not make myself noticeable either, it was tightly laced into a fixed position.

“He has regrettably not said if he returns here but as soon as I see him I’ll tell him. Fatima is going to stay in his house until the wedding.”

“I was not aware that he had a house here.”

“Yes, that’s all very new. He has hired from me and immediately paid for a year in advance. It is the house right next door.”

“Very good, we’re going to report this to Mrs. Arns. I don’t believe she is going to be enthusiastic about the whore.”

“Yes please do. I will let Fatima be taken to her home.”

“Thank you and goodbye.”

“Thank you, come again soon.”

When the police had left they turned to me again.

“This is a surprise. You have an influential aunt. She certainly would like to see the whore. As I told you this burqa is for unfaithful wives of ministers. That is why it has no eye mesh or holes for vision. The gold letters across the face means ‘whore’ in Arabic.”

It turned dark before my eyes again.

“If you think it is over now you’re wrong my dear, now it’s just beginning. Fatima you’ll only get out of this burqa when Mr. Arns invite you to change to the wedding dress. And how is that possible, tell me that.”

My rebellion was not noticed at all from outside the burqa. I tried to scream, I wanted to throw my head back and forth, I wanted to free my arms. The bounds and gagging was too clever made that there was only one way to make myself noticeable. Despite that I was quickly out of breath. It was not only the tight corset which reduced my breathing, in addition the tubes in my nose had a very small cross section, with the result that the air was just enough when I made absolutely no effort. And normal walking, if that could be said about the slow mincing steps, already demanded a very large effort.

The maid wanted to push me forward to make me move, but I refused. Instantly a pain shot through my abdomen. I had collapsed if I could, but the maid kept me steady. Then I again heard the voice of Madame Converte.

“This is something I haven’t told you about yet. All over the body there are electrodes built into your clothes. Through these I can give you power surges with the remote control. I can punish you or reward you. This punishment was at level 2 out of 10. The maid won’t hesitate in using it, but you know it’s for your own good. And now do as the maid wants. I now hand her the remote control. And she is not going to be as considerate with it as I am.”

It became silent again. The maid pushed me again. This time I obeyed her command. It seemed to me that we walked around for hours, her pushing here and there. Although my feet were hurting and I was always trying to get enough air, after some time I was able to move around without the maid supporting me.

Finally we stopped walking. The maid removed my burqa and the dress with the petticoats as well. Finally I would be released from all the clothes and the moment the gag would come out I would be ordering her to undress me completely. Then I would be free again. That my bonds were not removed I discovered when I was taken to a wall where I once again was collared to be fixed to the wall. I was forced to stand still. Shortly after a lukewarm liquid flowed through the catheter and rectal tube into me. It was let out ten minutes later. With despair it became clear to me that the tube reached outside the clothes I was still wearing.

Back in the middle of the room a solid sack was pulled over me which also enclosed my head. All along the body length seven or eight straps were tied around me. Then I had to turn until I was indicated to let myself fall back. I landed on a bed that had to be pretty high. Then they strapped me down to it tightly.

No sooner had I been strapped when it started to tickle around my penis and testicles. I was getting more and more excited and my penis was trying to burst the narrow tube. Nevertheless I came closer and closer to an orgasm, but almost there the tickling stopped again. Frustrated I lay there, I couldn’t do anything else, and tried to fall asleep. About an hour later it started to tickle again, and again stopped too early. This went on all night.

In the morning I was awakened and had another enema. I was very frustrated, I was excited x-times to just before the climax. Much of the excitement was due to my penis was struggling in its cramped cage to get more space. Following I had a feeding tube inserted through the gag. I felt that a pulp was pumped into my stomach. They did not take the trouble to remove the tube before they dressed me again. Only this time I had a collar on top of the burqa with a leash attached.

For hours I walked around completely isolated from the surroundings. During the few breaks I was held to the wall with one of those fixed collars, which I believe to be found on the walls everywhere. I was all the time stimulated at irregular intervals until just before orgasm. I could not think of anything else anymore. And so it went on day in, day out.

The third day the maid taught me to move guided by the power surges. A surge in the penis meant straight forward, left nipple to the left and right nipple to the right. When it burned in the testicles it meant stop. The surges were given at the lowest punishment level, in spite of that they were just barely tolerable. They were easy to distinguish from reward surges and the higher punishment levels, the latter I experienced if I didn’t carry out an order immediately or mistook it.

When I had learned to move quite safely on the ballet boots, I was now moving by remote control. I took care in doing everything right because the punishment kept getting worse. I felt like a constantly excited puppet. My only goal was to finally reach an orgasm.

Now I understood the correct meaning of Madame Converte’s words when she said

‘The maid is of course subordinate to you, she must do everything you tell her. What the lady wants precedes the law. As long as you don’t give her any other orders the maid is taking care of you in an appropriate manner.’

Yes, the maid is my subordinate. I have bought her so to speak. She has to take care of me in an appropriate manner as long as I don’t give her any other orders. But as long as I am gagged like now I’ll never be able to give orders. And the maid serves a noble whore. I cannot even blame her for that as she behaves correctly according to the rules.

What irony. I am the prisoner of my maid. And I think my maid is enjoying it as well.

My overtired thoughts revolved only around getting orgasm. I had lost all sense of time. My old life faded more and more. I could not remember to have had arms, or what are hands needed for? Or to take larger steps. All the time I was busy obeying the orders of my maid and I wanted to eventually have an orgasm.

After something like a week, I did not know exactly how long, I was left standing after the morning toilet and then showered with lukewarm water. Until I was wet through and through, and then simply allowed to stand for drying. First when I was completely dry I was fully dressed.

One day, when two or three shower mornings had passed, something unusual happened. The speakers went on in my ears. And Madame Converte’s voice was heard.

“Hi Fatima, as I see it you are doing well and the maid has told me what progress you have already made. This is great for you. Today a visitor is coming for you and I’ll let you see it. You can’t give any answers as it is, I thought of a way to improve that. You’ll have the simple choices of yes or no. For yes turn to the right, for no left. Do you understand that?”

I made a turn to the right. An image slowly appeared in front of my eyes, the room was only very dimly lit.

“This is so wonderful. Mrs. Aysha Arns is going to visit you.”

She had hardly finished speaking before Mrs. Arns entered. She wore a dark blue burqa made of very exquisite fabric. Still in an unsatisfied excited state I only knew that I had heard the name before sometime, but I couldn’t relate it to anything.

All who were able greeted each other. It was me, Mrs. Arns and Madame Converte. I was greeted too but I could not greet back. The maid was ignored but she was still somewhere in the room. Madame Converte explained why I could not greet back.

From Mrs. Arns came the idea: “As we are women only we may just as well remove our burqas.”

Madame Converte agreed and both right away pulled their burqas over their heads and removed the scarves they wore underneath. Two Arab beauties appeared, both were around forty.

Mrs. Arns said, “Why does Fatima not undress?”

“She can’t do it herself, the maid has to help her, but let us ask her if she want to.”

“Fatima, do you want to remove your burqa?” Mrs. Arns asked me.

Before I could think about it I felt pain in my left nipple and turned to the left.

Madame Converte “She doesn’t want to which I fully understand. As much as we would like to see her we have to respect it. When a veiled person does not want to unveil that is always respected, and in any case they can stay veiled. Sorry – ”

“Peter Arns is not here?”

“Last week he was here for three days but he had to travel again.”

“I have done some research regarding Fatima Imhrih and found out that she was romantically involved with a minister of this country and was caught with the gardener. She was expelled by him after she had been whipped and had her tongue removed. Despite her high status she was sold into slavery. Because the slave trade is not officially allowed anymore, although it is still going on, I lost the trail there. Amazing how my nephew Peter ever met such a person. A whore, a slave. And he wants to marry her as well.”

“With that I can help you. You are not going to believe it, but I then bought this Fatima. And when Mr. Arns came to me to inquire about the house here, by an unfortunate accident he saw her exposed and fell in love with her. I did not want to let him have her. I warned him of the social ostracism, etc. but he begged me and offered me so much that I couldn’t say no. For now she is still in my possession, first after the wedding she becomes really his. Mr. Arns insisted she is to wear this burqa until the wedding. I completely agreed. And she insisted on only to remove it when it could be exchanged for the wedding dress. Through my two years of training she has changed completely.”

“What a touching story, but she remains a whore and a slave. I’m going to speak to Peter, I hope he is going to listen to me, I’m after all his aunt.”

“Yes of course you are right. Then you will have to come back in four months. At this time the preparations for the wedding start, then he will have to be here.”

I was hardly able to follow the conversation because I was once more close to an orgasm. As through a veil I got the idea that I could be Mr. Arns and that Aysha was my aunt. But that did not make any sense to me. Why was I dressed as Fatima then? And where would Fatima be? This was a stupid idea. I had to be Fatima as this is what everybody called me.

Mrs. Arns veiled herself and said goodbye and I was back in the dark.

After a little while I heard Madame Converte again.

“Mrs. Arns is not exactly pleased with you, or are you still aware that you are Mr. Arns. But don’t worry at her next visit I’ll explain to her. I will tell her that it was you who insisted on wearing this burqa and that no one is to know about it. I think that is going to please her even more. But in four months you are not going to remember anything about it, because then the effect of the drugs you get is full, and then you will only be able to remember a maximum of two weeks back. All other memories are erased. Undoubtedly you ask yourself where is the real Fatima. She is the maid you bought. Since no one asks for the name of a maid it is never to be known that actually the real Fatima is taking care of the false. As a slave she is never going to get more freedom than in this position which made her very keen to maintain the situation. I wish you a pleasant evening.”

I was unsure if all that she said was true. I had to accept though that I was a man, but if I was this Mr. Arns I was not sure. I was unable to think more about it because soon the action started again. We walked all day long.

The four months passed and everyday was the same routine. Now and then I heard the voice of Madame Converte.

“You are Fatima the whore, never forget that. And you are lucky to be well cared for.”

This line was my only reference to the outside world. I heard it over and over again. I felt comfortable in my own world. I could not imagine a different life anymore. The only thing I wanted was to finally get an orgasm.

Then something unexpected happened. My eyes used to eternal darkness were suddenly blinded. When they had got used to the light I stood in a darkened room. A number of veiled women were present. A wide-sweeping burqa of impressive quality in emerald green, a dark blue and a dark gray burqa. The last two however were much more plain.

“Good day Fatima nice to see you in good health. I’m Madame Converte and this is Mrs. Aysha Arns. We are here to clarify a misunderstanding.”

“Where is Mr. Arns right now? You did say he would be here.”

“Yes that’s true Mrs. Arns. He stands right in front of you.”

“Don’t try to be funny, that is of course Fatima the whore. Tell me right away, where is Thomas Arns.”

“Please take a look, I’m going to show you an enlightening film.”

The two women turned towards a screen, only the figure in the emerald green burqa stayed unmoving. Although I didn’t move the image I saw turned towards the screen as well.

The film showed a man entering the burqa shop and looked around. Then the dark gray burqa appeared adressing the man to offer her help. He would like to wear a burqa and that with the most restrictions. She told him it was the emerald green. Yes, that is exactly the one he wants. Then the film showed him being dressed. Before the hood was put on him the dark gray burqa spoke to him once again. She asked: “Is that really what you want. You are never going to get out any more.” “Yes, that’s exactly what I want.” And the dressing was completed.

The film took about ninety minutes. When it ended Mrs. Arns spoke.

“This can’t be true. The restrictions beneath this burqa are really very severe. I can’t understand why he want it like that.”

“As you see our needs are different. It would not be endurable without the legally prescribed drugs.”

“What drugs?”

“It’s mainly drugs that affect the memory. All his past memories are cleared. He only knows that he is Fatima the whore and nothing else.”

“Can he hear us?”

“Yes, at the moment. Usually he is deaf.”

“And how can he reply?”

“You have to ask questions which can be answered with yes or no. Then for yes he makes a turn to the right and for no to the left.”

“Then I would like to ask him some questions.”

“Yes, please begin.”

The woman in the dark blue burqa moved in front of the emerald green to ask “Fatima, are you Thomas Arns?”

I felt pain in my left nipple and made a turn to the left and at the same time I saw the emerald green burqa make a turn to the left.

“So you’re not Mr. Arns. Are you Fatima the whore?”

The emerald green burqa and I turned to the right.

“Would you like to remove your burqa and all that you wear underneath?”

We turned to the left.

“Do you like wearing it?”

To the right.

“Do you want to wear this burqa forever?”

To the right.

“You cannot want something like this, at least I couldn’t under no circumstances. I still don’t believe it. According to my memory Thomas is not this tall, I guess about ten inches smaller, and the real Fatima is supposed to be a very tall woman.”

“Take a look at her shoes.”

Madame Converte waved her hand and a black veiled figure stepped out from the shadows and went to the emerald green subject to lift the front of the burqa and the underlying clothes.

“Ooh, is anyone able to walk in something like that?”

“Fatima is by now, she knows of nothing else anymore.”

“But where is the real Fatima then?”

“It is the maid.”

Madame Converte said something in Arabic to the maid that made her uncover her head and open her mouth wide. Then the maid lifted the front of her burqa for her shoes to be seen. Although she towered over them all she wore flat shoes.

“Yes, that has to be her, it’s completely crazy. What am I going to do with him and what am I going to call her now that Thomas has taken her identity?”

“Just maid.”

“And here is the gold card belonging to Mr. Arns, it has been in my position since he gave it to me in the shop. I have of course only used it to pay for things that has to do with him. If the card of Mr. Arns had been lost, misplaced or stolen it would have been reported. Please check it out.”

Mrs. Arns took a cell phone from her pocket and entered a number. She talked a few minutes and put it away again.

“Madame Converte, now you have convinced me. Fatima and her maid of course belong with us. She can wait for her husband there as well.”

She burst into a loud laugh and said several times

“What an idiot.” and when she had recovered “Now I finally know what to do with him.”

“What do you mean?” Madame Converte asked surprised.

“Yes, you see Fatima, formerly Mr. Arns, is the only descendant of the deceased owner of our company. The company is doing very well. But he has no abilities to be in charge of this company. Unfortunately he has the right to have the final deciding word in all of the company’s affairs. But he has never been aware of this. He has been studying for twenty five years and enjoyed to live an independent life. Now that he has completed his studies we are afraid that he could come up with some weird ideas. But as long as he is Fatima we have nothing to be afraid of. And he is going to stay as her for a long, long time.”

“To be honest Mrs. Arns, Fatima is unable to get out of her clothes. She can’t even if you would want it. I was so angry with him that I have made useless all the locks securing his bonds. They cannot be opened anymore.”

“That’s really wonderful. I thank you again Madame Converte, you have helped in solving a great problem for us.”

The end

Translated from German to English by Bo_Emp

Back to the Adult Bazaar…

 


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