Salim and Suhaila
Tangent Scribe Transmission #3:
Readers in the past, As-salaam alaikum. Celestial alignments are favorable again for temporal transmission and happen to be coincidental with an anniversary of TOTV. As anniversaries are still as significant now as they were for you then I send a Divine Emirati tale of preparations for a marriage and the joys and pitfalls associated with this honored tradition. Culled by your humble scribe from personal stories and recollections stored in the Great Archive, this weighty story tells the tale of members of two families of prominence in their time in society, and offers a richly detailed slice of Emirati life some number of generations beyond that revealed in my prior transmitted tales. Take these words for the illumination they provide as life changes fluidly and fast as history marches on, even if some you might not define it as life at all. Enjoy the tale and may you learn and grow from it, for someday Insha’Allah you will be living it. Oh yes, in answer to the question the gentle reader emailed at moc.liamg@ebircS.tnegnaT, the laws of the Living Prophet apply to all the ladies of the Emirate. Every single last one of them. And they all love it. They can’t help it. Until the future, forever yours,
In the predawn darkness, Salim Makhtan al-Qurtubi walked from the large compound belonging to the al-Wahrani family, happy with the prenuptial negotiations and from what he could tell so was his fiancé’s father Sheik Hamad al-Wahrani, despite the circumstances. How good it was when men of families could work through difficult problems with reason and emerge like minded in agreement, even better when one could recognize advantage and use it effectively and still have both parties smiling. Allah and the Living Prophet be praised! Boarding his personal transport, he settled back into the thick velvet cushions as the vessel ascended and another transport swiftly took its place at the home’s landing pad. He Linked his desired destination to the autopilot and called for shisha. The transport turned to its new heading and a prepared and lit pipe rose from an opening in the low console table at his feet. Puffing contentedly he reflected on the sequence of events that led to this morning, some of which were recent and others that dated back decades before he was born, but all significant.
Like so many countless times for men across the long history of the world, his troubles had at their heart a woman, specifically Suhaila Zahra al-Wahrani, soon to be his first bride. He had heard on occasion from his older sister and aunt, both of whom had actually met his fiancé Suhaila in person, that she was a headstrong but caring and faithful girl. He suspected it himself from the tone of her writings, a streak of independence emerged that can enliven a relationship, as long she tempered it with appropriate Haya and Iman to maintain harmony. The troubling cloud in the relationship gathered when Salim’s younger sister Miryam, had shared something with him a few weeks prior that disturbed him greatly. She and Suhaila had grown to be good friends in the year since the engagement was announced, Suhaila being only three years older in age. Miryam, unmarried, and at fifteen years of age fully veiled herself for the last three years, was invited to be a dressing attendant for the upcoming wedding. Suhaila had said to Miryam in passing, while they were perusing designs for her new wedding veil layers “Please don’t tell Salim, but between you and I, I think I shall never agree to be Purdah. I will of course cover, I will even be reduced to a Pearl for him if that is what he likes but I shall not be fully converted, imprisoned inside lifeless fabric, just because my husband or any man thinks I should. I am happy with what I am and If Allah made me to live in the form of woman, then who is anyone to change it?”
Miryam, Allah bless her and give her strength, was so disturbed by the pride, selfishness, and un-Islamicness of Suhaila’s words that could she not keep them herself and told Salim as soon as he next saw him; shaking with sobs muffled and rendered silent by the noise canceling properties of her niqab fabric as she composed her text on a communicator pad; hidden tears making visible wet patches on her many layers of her veils and gloves as she dabbed at them. How someone, a full born Divine Emirati lady no less, could be so heretical as to actually voice out loud an opinion contravening the example set by the Living Prophet, Allah’s direct representative on Earth, was unconscionable to Miryam. It was particularly difficult to understand as it was about Suhaila avoiding her conversion, a feminine religious duty Miryam looked forward to with immense desire just like every girl in the Divine Emirate with greater anticipation than even her wedding day.
Salim thought hard on the situation, prayed over it for a month trying to let the unwanted words fade from his mind. But they did not depart and echoed rather louder still, surely it was Allah keeping them in his heart. Suhaila’s tendency toward impertinence finally had gone too far and struck at his male pride, not for the first time but the most serious. Salim was actually somewhat liberal at heart, more so than he should be according to the Imam who he consulted with about the duties of marriage. Had she only not said anything, had she just come into the marriage with proper feminine deference, he could probably have even been convinced to let her remain original under her coverings for a time and then just be Pearled to feminine object status, at least for the first few years until his interest in that form naturally waned. Children would, of course, come externally, so that was no barrier at all to any type of remaking he chose for her. Soon enough after the wedding they would be in agreement that the time had come, a Ladies Center hall would be booked for the Conquering of the Awrah ceremony and her bodily Jahiliyyah would finally come to an end. There was no particular hurry but he always knew that she would be remade, that was the proper way of things for a lady in this day and age, quite necessary and inevitable. They had discussed this so many times and Suhaila doubtlessly knew that this would be so, but always a reticence came through. Every time Salim brought up the subject of what type of veiling she would become, or when exactly she should visit the Ladies Center for her preprocessing consultation the discussions always ended with terms of “later” and “sometime” or “Insha’Allah”, nothing ever said with certainty despite always her being vaguely agreeable on the principle.
Most girls, like his young sister and all his other already converted female relatives couldn’t wait for their Conquering of the Awrah ceremony, avoiding one, as appeared to be the case with Suhaila, seemed as pointless as trying to avoid one’s next birthday. It was going to come whether she liked it or not. These polite refusals were small wounds, pinpricks on his pride, but he paid them no heed until Miryam’s revelation. Salim had made no secret that they would only be married if she promised to fully embrace the duties of her faith and actually become Purdah eventually. Islam was very clear on what a wife was required to do and how a husband was required to enforce it. The Living Prophet had seen to that. Becoming Purdah was the most complete way in fulfilling the tenets of the Living Sharia to the greatest extent possible. He’d realized the truth of this in a revelation some years before that still resonated deeply. With Suhaila’s statement though, even though not told directly to him, it was clear what was in her heart and sadly it left him with no choice, hence the prior evening’s meeting with her father.
Salim’s was to be an arranged marriage, like everyone else’s in the Emirate, but once they were indirectly introduced he felt that he actually could love her, and felt that had come to know her well through the extensive time spent together in the Link and through their writings and his visits with her family. Love was not all however, and in marriage it never was. Marrying an al-Wahrani would be quite a feat for an al-Qurtubi, the two clans having been bitter rivals time and again in the past but growing more amicable in recent years. Both clans could trace their roots to the First Land, having a shared history all the way back to the Great Reckoning, and when both clans were judged favorably by the Living Prophet, they gained lands in Andalucía during the expansion. Al-Wahranis, well situated with vast holdings rich in the particular heavy ores used in the Emirates’ inexorable growth exhibited considerable influence in provincial society and beyond and were known to be closely tied in with the family of the Living Prophet. Al-Qurtubis, their lands less blessed, grew strong in commerce and transportation, but less well affiliated in court circles. A distant uncle of Salim’s, Hanbal, an official in the Living Prophet’s development and expansion network, giving considerable influence with both tribes and provincial politics had made the initial connection between Salim and Suhaila. As the first direct marriage between the clans, the alliance of the strengths of al-Wahrani and al-Qurtubi had the potential to herald something quite good for al-Qurtubi long term prospects, bringing them into a closer orbit about the Living Prophet’s court network.
Upon arrival at their compound, Salim was greeted by a remote and shown to an opulent sitting room where Sheik al-Wahrani and a Wife, a featureless black shape waited. This Wife, who Salim recognized from her design as Suhaila’s mother had not become Purdah, just as his own had not. She was a Pearl, a woman stripped of her fitnah inducing parts and permanently encased in a simple geometric container that provided for all her worldly needs. This style of objectification was nearly universal for ladies of prior generations and was still preferred by some families but much less so since full Purdah technologies were revealed by the Living Prophet. This Wife had not yet been swayed to the new ways and thus still presented herself as an elongated black ellipse gracefully and symmetrically narrowing to a rounded point on both ends and polished to a dark mirror finish. Standing vertically and magnetically balanced upon a similarly glossy mobility sphere she reached a height of 1.7 meters.
Judging from her cylinder’s tapered ends, circular cross section and slenderness, just twenty five centimeters at its widest point, Salim assessed only the barest minimum of material to meet her biological needs was retained. So much of her awrah had been skillfully removed and the little that remained was ensconced securely, impossible to separate from its encasement and exhibiting no external trace. A fine gossamer net veil flowed from her apex halfway down her hard shell; an old-fashioned, attractive, yet functional touch for it undoubtedly was a sensor web that transmitted sight, sound, and other sensations. Salim said the short customary silent prayer thanking Allah for allowing so much of this feminine object’s awrah to be destroyed and making the world that much more halal. With a barely audible hiss and a click, two circular ports appeared on the glassy obsidian surface at shoulder height and a pair of long empty black gloves extruded and unfurled. Reaching their full length in a few seconds, the dangling gloves then filled with a working fluid which, the liquid actuated by ingenious micropumps in her encasement cylinder, imparted graceful mobility and dexterity. Salim watched this appreciatively as the Wife deftly prepared and poured tea and brought sweets for the men in the sitting room before the fluidic gloves flattened again and retracted into the encasement. She silently departed the room through a narrow door, the female exit, her hospitality task complete.
While a beautiful reduction, Salim thought to himself that should Allah’s Judgment occur that day, this Pearled Wife and more importantly, the men of the family responsible for her, would not receive the degree of favor from Allah they would had she been fully changed into a Purdah Object, rather than leaving even a reduced core of physical womanhood intact. Allah would be pleased, but like in all things, one should strive to their utmost to please Allah as much as possible. Salim wished then that his own mother had the chance to become full Purdah, but in Pearling her like the object recently before him now was, his father had made an old fashioned but still religiously correct choice for her that Salim respected. Once Salim had reached the age of performing mandatory Salat and was a more independent child, father had his mother further reduced into his Pipe Mistress, enmeshing her in a special shell of pure gold with rubies and mother of pearl inlay. For being a fourth wife and married late into the family, being one of Father’s retained wives and Pipe Mistress was an honorable position that brought pleasure and reward to her as she brought pleasure and enjoyment to Father and his house. With pleasantries completed, business and discussion commenced and Salim played his gambit.
A wedding would still go on, although Suhaila’s words were more than sufficient grounds to Salim to call it off. Once news of cancellation and the reason became known, and it was Salim’s news to spread should he choose, the damage to the al-Wahrani family honor would be so significant that no girl from the entire clan would be married off for at least a generation or two. While Suhaila did not technically commit a crime that merited Modesty Committee intervention, she did imply that she was above and not beholden to certain decrees of the Living Sharia, particularly those that mandated deference to male authority, and the decree that every female should strive to live as the highest form of modesty available to her based on her circumstances. Such an attitude would cast aspersions across the morals of all the other females, and by extension, the men of the family. Being that Suhaila was from a high family, such scandal would be immense. Sheik al-Wahrani, deeply concerned for the family name, called for the night’s private meeting, important enough to conduct in person rather than over Link, where the only decision that could possibly save al-Wahrani honor and Suhaila’s future was made.
Suhaila would enter the sisterhood of Purdah Objects and become a feminine article of the Islamic faith at the earliest possible opportunity, a full and immediate conversion into worshipful inanimacy. Salim would not marry Suhaila, rather he would be marrying a burqa and long gloves, or an assemblage of layers of abayas and niqabs; whatever design of Islamic feminine clothing that she would be recreated as, and which would then physically and legally constitute the new Suhaila. Her consciousness, essence, personality, and memories would be translated into a new cloth form and preserve her modesty forever while eliminating her awrah from existence totally, she would be a manufactured article of pure virtue. Her father had the right and under divine law, final say for anything that protected the character and welfare of an unmarried woman in his family and the decision had now been made, praise Allah! His daughter would cease to be flesh and blood and would live the rest of her life as a construct of thread and fabric, just like hundreds of millions of other women in the Divine Emirate and just as the Living Prophet and Allah so preferred. The impertinence, heresy, Suhaila’s objections, and any other personal flaws detected during the dissolution of her body would simply be deleted. Suhaila, like all women so processed, would be corrected with the transference of her mind into the material, enhanced by the standard religious excisions of deceit, anger, jealousy, and conceit provided for all ladies. Traditional values of love, faith, obedience, chastity, pliancy, and contentedness would be overwritten in their place, beautiful gifts provided through the Living Prophet’s agency to build her haya and iman and assist her in being a good wife and better Muslimah when reconstituted as beautiful textile creation. Salim knew of no man who preferred the flesh and blood “before” to the living fabric “after”. The benefits were just too great.
Once Suhaila was fixed, there would be no more chances for her to jeopardize her future and that of her family. Salim now dreamed of seeing his new wife as resplendent finery at the Mosque’s wedding hall, presented piously and demurely draped over her Iqdala, the automated feminine mobility armature that would wear her and give her senses, motion, mobility, and shape and him pleasure and satisfaction in her new existence as a woman of cloth. On that special day Salim would take her soft gloves in his hands, look deeply into the smooth unbroken drape of her veil, and pledge his undying love to the delicate assemblage of fabric layers that replaced Suhaila, and yet still was her, only better. Better in the eyes of Allah, better in the eyes of the Living Prophet, and truthfully, better in Salim’s eyes too. The thought pleased him immensely. The new negotiated arrangement followed these long held dreams to nearly to the letter save for the slight details of when he would first see his bride and what exactly he would design her to look like.
It was somewhat uncommon for a woman to become a Purdah Object before her wedding, what was not uncommon was for women to be become Purdah in general, it being the preferred form of female modesty by over 90% of ladies throughout the Divine Emirate. The timeline for awrah elimination across the Divine Emirate was flexible and highly dependent on local custom and family preference, usually within a few years after marriage and almost unheard of for a woman to remain merely veiled after 5 years. Becoming Purdah comprised a multitude of styles all of which were approved by provincial Modesty Committees in conformance with Living Prophet Sharia teachings and all of which due to technical and religious custom, were strictly one way events, just like a surgical Pearling, as the process of conversion from woman to cloth was quite irreversible.
In certain cities of the Divine Emirate, the current trend in ceremonies was for conversion to actually be the culminating event of the wedding itself and done with all the guests in attendance rather than hold a separate Conquering of the Awrah event some months or years on. The new husband would lead his bride directly into the conversion chamber right at the completion of vows and the signing of the marriage contract while she was still enveloped in her bridal veiling, where she and her all encompassing wedding gown were dissociated together and both materially combined into a new Islamic garment, thereby preserving her at her moment of greatest beauty and femininity and commemorating the union. The resulting Burq’Ariisas as they were called, were considered quite fashionable of late, living their lives as passive multilayered masses of chiffon, lace, veils and gloves in hyper feminine bridal style permanently, most being too delicate and fragile to ever leave their homes and relying on domestic help to perform every need short of servicing their husbands in bed with their Iqdalas. In modern Islamic society, that and worship was really about all any feminine object was expected to do, the feminine gender having been freed of every responsibility by the advancement of Islam. One of Salim’s half brothers had a Burq’Ariisa wife he was quite proud of. He would have her sit and pose in the center of their reception hall at Eid and other large family gatherings and deactivate her Iqdala, leaving her there for the duration of the event as a beautiful decorative centerpiece enhancing the beauty of the room, as by design she was capable of so little else.
A Burq’ariisa, a Living Wedding Gown
Salim found the style very attractive and initially considered having Suhaila done up this way too, but decided that because of the current circumstances it might be a better life for his second future wife.
The older tradition of conversion well after marriage held sway in Salim and Suhaila’s home province of Andalusia, as families there typically took great pleasure in maintaining and reusing the old family heirloom wedding burqas for all their daughters, with new inner and outer covering layers being added for each wearing to personalize them for the young brides hidden inside. The deep vintage veil layers invariably dated back to the time before Purdah conversion was revealed by the Living Prophet and as such, were sized to fit full flesh and blood women of natural proportions. After many generations of careful wearing, these beautiful wedding burqas took on the appearance of lavishly embellished white fabric cones nearly 3 meters high, with many dozens, even hundreds of layers over a bride held completely immobile at the core.
Andalucian Traditional Wedding Burqa With 283 Layers
Displayed at the center of the wedding hall borne upon a bejeweled mobility platform, the bride’s only connections to the outside world for the three days of the wedding celebration were her breathing, drinking, shisha smoking, cooling and hygiene tubes, discreetly threaded up from the platform between the veil layers.
The tubes serviced her by connecting through ports on her Hazzin and Ozzat, the featureless ovoid polished gold mask and matching chastity belt that encased a brides head and nether regions respectively and comprised the very innermost layer of wedding attire. The golden second skin, beautiful and practical, served to help support the immense weight of the wedding veiling, provided the bride sight and hearing by receiving and displaying sensory signals and most importantly shielded her awrah from her attendants during her daylong dressing ritual. The Hazzin, always a gift of the husband to be as part of the bride price, had been a cherished integral part of Divine Emirati wedding attire ever since the Living Prophet spoke the words “Golden is the new bride who loves Allah with all her heart and blessed is the husband whose treasure protects her” at the wedding of his eldest son so many years before. The first Hazzins were painstakingly constructed on brides over a period of days by sightless jewelers, later in hours by robots as the custom spread, but in current times were instantaneously hyperformed directly onto the bride two days prior to the ceremony and, unless she was sooner converted, worn continuously for the first full year of marriage to accrue good fortune.
Covering at minimum from the crown of the head to below the bust line, Hazzin styles varied tremendously in style due to the depth of faith and wealth of the husband to be. For a man strong in both, his bride would be a solid golden statue, the Hazzin and Ozzat conjoined as one and extended to encompass the whole of the body, with articulated gilded limbs and even certain internal passages lined with gold in the greatest of precision and artistry, allowing her to live the Living Prophet’s words as sign of full devotion to Allah. The Hazzin and Ozzat had the blessing of the Living Prophet as halal to female relatives, fathers, and husbands meaning they were morally permitted directly gaze upon the areas they covered without further obscuration if so desired. As a show of further modesty, despite their being halal, most respectable brides would wear a single layer translucent chiffon veil over their Hazzin as a symbol of honor to those that would see them.
A Bride Encased in her Hazzin and Ozzat
As the last chance in life a bride would ever have to share something even remotely related to her physical appearance with anyone, a bride would take great care to influence her fiancé in the selection and finish of her Hazzin to beautify herself in the eyes of family and Allah Himself. Upon removal it was never worn again, but melted down and used in building her Iqdala, or her Pearl reduction encasement, or very rarely if she remained completely unaltered, spun into gold thread and woven into the many layers of her veils of concealment to decorate and secure them. Tradition held that face plate of the Hazzin was saved, its inner contours bearing the only record of her original imperfect womanly state, a memento of humility to be hidden securely away and never discussed or shown in polite company.
With the changed circumstances however, Salim would not be buying a Hazzin. He had risen very far and fast in his life from very modest beginnings but he still felt relief in having not already deducted its considerable, for Suhaila was going to be completely gilded golden doll, cost from his accounts. The bride price, typically paid in credits, land, and human servants, not surprisingly was settled at zero with no counteroffer at all, exceptionally good terms for Salim and a product of the strong position he revealed when he reminded the Sheik about the salvaging of al-Wahrani honor, and how easy it was for rumors to spread. Despite the activity incurring Allah’s benevolence, no family wanted to bear the burden of consigning two or three generations of unmarriageable females to the spinster’s existence as lifeless decorative ornaments for the house or relinquishing them to the custody of the Ladies Awrah Elimination Society.
Faced with these alternatives, the extreme favor the Sheik showed in the dealings over Suhaila was understandable. The resulting wedding might be nontraditional, different in structure from what he had originally planned but there was great prestige for him in this new arrangement, as premarital conversion was regarded by a growing many as a mark of extreme faith by any woman for it meant in becoming a Purdah Object, that she placed complete and utter trust her husband to be, for the conversion process eliminated any desire she could ever have for another man. There would never be divorce, she could never tempt, never stray, and there would never be another in her heart. Lust, promiscuity, and infidelity, much like all physical traces of her, were simply deleted. Her sex drive, just like her female body, was removed and replaced by whatever the conversion device was commanded to create out of her. Such devotion to her future husband surely would surely bring extra favor from Allah when the time came.
Gazing at the arc of green and brown moving swiftly below and the sweep of midnight blue above through the transport viewports, Salim imagined the family compounds passing by underneath, islands of civilization each protecting a family’s treasure and all of them in the domain of the Divine Emirate. Contemplating the favor the converted Suhaila was going to soon accrue for both of them, Salim remembered other special converted brides whom Allah would most certainly favor, a precious few possibly ensconced deeply in a handful of the compounds below, the Mazima. Their existence, a treasure of Divine Emirati culture, had influenced him and countless other men so very powerfully. Coming from a few very old, very conservative families given special dispensation directly from the Living Prophet these brides would also have been Purdah Objects before their wedding, but converted much younger on the day of menarche. Having been schooled from birth for the role, young girls destined to be Mazima were raised veiled every day of their lives since their moment of birth with no one ever seeing them uncovered, save for the nursemaid remotes that attended to physiological needs, cleansed, fed, and sewed them back into their veils while they slept or were sedated. Living within this system of strict and honored duty, a Mazima was never permitted to even see her own skin, with smooth opaque satin fabric encasing her body being the only self she was ever allowed to come to know. At an age when other girls were only just disappearing into the veils they would wear full time, these special Mazima girls actually became veils and earned their families immeasurable honor for having their awrah erased from existence having never been the cause of fitnah to anyone for even a single moment of their lives. Such piety, admirable as it was, was rare by design, limited in scope by Living Sharia decree to maintain its aspirational and inspirational nature. These special feminine objects were the very most desirable as wives in all the Divine Emirate for they brought the greatest status, deepest faith, and complete innocence to the marriage.
Mazima conversion was done not at a local Ladies Center, but at the Islamic Technologies Center at the al-Husayn Mosque of the First Land built on the shore of the Eye of Allah. Overseen directly by the Living Prophet’s immediate blood relatives, Mazima processing was done only once a year and spanned an entire Ramadan lunar cycle wherein the Mazima candidates were converted to fabric, dissolutioned, and reconverted again one hundred times. The result of this exceptional degree of refinement rendered the Mazima’s fabric immutable and non-entropic, meaning her essence became physically inalterable unlike that of a conventionally converted feminine object. A non-Mazima convert, even though inanimate cloth, could still learn, assimilate new experiences, communicate through the Link and add to the personality matrix stored in the weave of her material. Sensations and experiences transmitted through her fabric and by the sensors in her Iqdala were stored just as before her conversion. There was no loss of continuity or fidelity between her animate and inanimate versions save for the personality edits and improvements introduced during reconstitution. Purdah Objects contained a synapse by synapse replica of her former female mind, and depending on her Mahram’s decision, may not even realize she had ever been an organic woman, if her guardian had her memories edited. Most ladies however, were allowed to retain their preconvert memories, selectively edited of course, if only to serve as a source of humility, so that they might know how flawed they were in the eyes of Allah before receiving his beneficence and more fully appreciate the Almighty’s plan for them.
A Mazima however, had her essence crystallized within her fabric, preserving her spirit for all time as it was on the moment of the all important one hundredth conversion. Ageless and impervious to further experience, she would forever be exactly as she was on the day she left the conversion booth. The last thing she would ever learn being the name, preferences, history and desires of her future husband, all woven into her memory and personality when the conversion device was activated for the hundredth and final remaking. During her penultimate ninety ninth reconversion, any Mazima candidates not deemed commensurate with expectations were simply not reconstituted after their final dissolution, her matter and data files being disassociated and erased, and her soul commended to Allah. The price of attaining perfection represented by Mazima could be high indeed, with up to half of the candidates not completing the process each Ramadan. The rewards and risks of being so favored were understood by the families of the deleted daughters but such an event was actually a cause to celebrate; for as possessions in Allah the Merciful care, their flaws rectified by Him, the deleted would stand in the hereafter in perfect Purdah, sublime veils displayed in the light of Jannah for all eternity.
The Mazima conversion process yielded an identical indistinguishable product each time, a forever young, completely innocent spiritual virgin rendered into the softest, sleekest white silk satin. All were finished in the form of a one piece full length closed bottom Pakhtoon burqa with attached glove sleeves, embellished with golden embroidery and extensive lace trim. Designed by Anisah, Most Loved and Exalted, First Wife of the Living Prophet, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah, the style honored the piety and modesty of the most faithful women from the old Era of Confusion, before the coming of the Living Prophet and establishment of the Divine Emirate, who managed to exhibit the greatest personal modesty and adherence to the spirit of Islam despite facing the hardest of challenges to their faith.
Families lucky enough to be favored by the Living Prophet with a Mazima concession submitted every daughter for conversion this way and expanded their influence and status by being highly selective in accepting suitor bids for them, commanding the highest of all bride prices. Powerful and interested men from across the Divine Emirate competed in increasing desperation with bids that were raised and re-raised every night until the public Announcement of Engagements at the Feast of the Living Prophet that broke the fast and ended Ramadan. Suitable Zakat, of course, was donated back to the charities of the al-Husayn Mosque by Mazima producing families to fund their good works. Salim had heard stories of a very few incredibly lucky and skillful men who had households where every wife was a Mazima. Many other upper class men would try mightily to, and mostly without success, bid upon and win a Mazima after Ramadan from a household where the master had met an unfortunate end or even more rarely chose to sell her since a Mazima, though exalted, was considered first and foremost an object and her master’s property to do with as he pleased, like all converted feminine Purdah Objects.
The Mazima Iqdala, a much different and most delicate mechanism of pure gold, filled out and provided movement for only the Mazima’s gloves and nothing else since so little was required of her due to her exaltedness. The minimal Iqdala meant that all potential physical relations were limited, compared to what was possible with a wife worn by an Iqdala with full mobility and equipped with pleasuring ports. The Mazima’s schooling however, taught them to be exquisitely skilled with their gloves, which is where their pleasure center receptors were woven. The honor of having a Mazima wife meant a lifetime of being caressed and pleasured by a pair of white silk gloves attached to the most beautiful fabric creation a woman could ever be made into. Silent, mesmerizingly attractive and utterly respectable for all time, such a vision was something Salim believed to be right out of Jannah itself.
Tradition called for a Mazima to be arranged daily upon a sumptuous bed of red velvet in a richly decorated chamber provided for her use alone, or gently pressed into a gilt frame and mounted vertical upon the chamber wall, for a Mazima wife was always displayed flat and immobile, a living symbol of feminine Islamic purity and submission; a true flower of Islam. When she retired for the evening after the Isha Prayer, for her protection, safety and honor, she was carefully collected and folded then stored locked into a heavy chest wrought from a solid block of precious metals and festooned with gleaming jewels. She spent each and every night in the company of Allah’s divine words, her case’s inner surface inlaid with inscriptions of the 10 Decrees, guarding her until the dawn where before Fajr Prayer her beauty would be unfolded to blossom once again.
Many non-Mazima wives, equally treasured by their husbands also spent their nights and sometimes much longer periods in a similar fashion, sealed in pretty storage receptacles to safeguard them from harm. A few very devout husbands equipped the receptacles themselves with pleasuring ports, preferring the sensation of making love to a completely non-representational solid object, so not to be swayed toward fitnah by anything the least bit female shaped. This was an unusual but halal activity for by the words of the Living Sharia the husband was considered to be properly doing his duties to her so long as she were present, even if she were unresponsive. For all Purdah Objects, if separated from their Iqdalas and placed in a dark and motionless container not set to transmit external stimulation, after a few minutes their perceptions slowed and then ceased, going into a state of blissful suspension with no sensation of time nor capable of any activity until retrieved, unfolded and dressed onto their Iqdala for a new day. In that inert state, ten minutes, ten years, or ten decades was exactly the same. By Living Sharia teaching it was considered a high form of feminine prayer, and as the Living Prophet revealed, the more a husband protects his wife they closer they are both to Allah, making it quite halal to place a Purdah Object wife in her receptacle for as long and for whatever reasons the husband wished, even forever if he felt that was the safest thing for her.
Over many decades, six Mazima had been released from perpetual storage and willed by their devout husbands to the venerable Museum of Islamic Art in the provincial city of Doha, where minus Iqdalas and encased in glass for display in individual galleries; their beauty enlightened and inspired the populace as the highest form of Islamic art ever achieved. This is where Salim had seen his first and only Mazima, on a student trip as a 15 year old youth. On the final day of the excursion to tour the broad expanses of the restored Eden Valley, of which Doha sat upon its western rim, the schoolmaster took the class to the museum to see the treasures of Islam, specifically the Mazima, which had the noted effect of profoundly inspiring young men. Salim knew this would be a part of their trip and had been looking forward to it for quite some time, anxiously shuffled through the museum exhibits barely registering their presence until they finally reached the Mazima wing. One at a time each boy entered a gallery, which was theirs alone for five minutes to give them time to appreciate what they would most probably see only once in their lives. Salim waited in a queue with growing nervous anticipation until the door before him finally opened. Making his way along a curved darkened hallway he heard the door shutting and locking behind him when suddenly his eyes were filled with a gleaming white light shining to the center of the darkened chamber. There she was, the object of every believing man’s earthly desires, a Mazima.
Salim had no words to describe what he saw. As he admired the play of light glowing opalescent on the silk burqa, the dainty lines of the slender fingers of the long stilled gloves, the delicacy of the white lace fringing her seams and the long trailing train; he had never imagined a mere woman could be made into something so beautiful. Standing vertically in clear cylindrical glass, she was only a meter and a half tall and trailing train, at least double her height in its length, lay folded and buttoned shut at her bottom hem. Puffed sleeves emerged from narrow shoulders and slimmed quickly to the attached gloves. Her integral Bannu style headpiece flowed softly from her crown and framed a tapered front panel which formed her embroidered face, a picture of Islamic feminine beauty standard.
The Face of a Mazima
Until that moment Salim hadn’t really thought about feminine objects that much. Sure, he had moments where a particular niqab had caught his eye, or frequently admired a pair of shapely gloves, and sometimes a smooth encasement or shimmer of a pretty abaya and veil set brought an unexpected thrill. None ever had struck like this vision in the Mazima gallery which reached into his core and pulled forth everything he had ever thought about objects of the opposite gender, shook it apart and built it back again stronger and deeper.
Time stood still as he gazed deeply into the intricate gold embroidered hexagons of her tessellated eyescreen and imagined what it would be like to possess such a thing himself, to own such a fine object and have her bring him to the heights of ecstasy and prestige. He marveled, his thoughts not only on the beauty but on the knowledge that a flesh and blood female, dangerous and sinful, had been remade, perfected and lived on even at that very moment as an object for the glory of Allah according to the divine wisdom of the Living Prophet. With that thought a feeling not unlike a bolt of electricity ran though him from the top of his head to the soles of his feet and he could not make his gaze leave the beauty that seemed to fill both the room and all his thoughts at once.
The vision before him strengthened his faith in a way a thousand sermons from an Imam at the mosque could not. His pride at being a member of the greatest faith and the greatest society the world had ever known surged like a bright flame in his breast. He pledged to himself in that moment and again out loud to Allah in his prayers that night, and many nights after that any wives that Allah chose to bless him with would be similarly perfected even if they not be Mazima. He would never look upon the flesh of his future wife, or any other woman’s born form. In fact, the very thought of female flesh suddenly disgusted him deeply in a way it never had until that moment, even though he had never seen it. He would not merely keep his wives inside covers, leaving corruption that the Shaytan could use to spread temptation, no matter how many layers they may be concealed behind. He would do his duty keep others from falling victim to fitnah caused by awrah, he would, like all right and believing men, actively seek its complete elimination from all of creation. Salim felt Allah was actively revealing to him His way and His will though the beauty of the Mazima. With sudden clarity any misconceptions and doubts he had about relations with and the role of women, or rather feminine objects or Purdah Objects as he now understood they should be called once transformed, and their place in the world were swept away, leaves blown before a torrent of light.
The moment of clarity was the like of which Salim had never experienced before or since, a revelation of absolute understanding occurred. A feminine object’s highest purpose was to embody Islam, complete submission to the will and word of Allah. Cursed since creation, “woman” is intentionally born a flawed creature as a test of the faith of the believing men around her. Believing men pass this test by recognizing these flaws and prove their love for Allah by correcting them by following the inerrant instructions He revealed through the Living Prophet. As a reward for their faith, deserving men are granted full possession and use of the transformed feminine objects who exist as examples of Allah’s benevolence and serve as indicators of the husbands’ honor and status in Islamic society. Deserving women are rewarded when Allah provides them to righteous men who strip away the inborn awrahs of thought and body and physically merge them with Islam itself, granting them legitimacy and the exalted honor of complete and total submission by re-creating them as feminine Purdah Objects of the Islamic faith.
After what felt like both an instant and a lifetime, the brilliant light bathing the Mazima extinguished and the Mazima’s display case retracted into the floor, the opening sealing shut behind her, breaking the moment as the exit door of the gallery automatically opened. Spontaneously Salim cried out “Allahu Akbar” again and again through tears of fervid exaltation as he exited out to the spacious central atrium of the museum, its great east facing windows framing the green fertile land teeming with every creature under the sun where only barren saltwater and desert one had stood. The other boys from his class were prostrated on the floor all about the room. He too fell to his knees in prayer, unable to stand any longer so filled with the sprit he was. How thankful Salim was that Allah had sent the Living Prophet to cleanse, purify, and unify Islam, ending the Era of Confusion and freeing Mohammed’s (PBUH) words from the misunderstandings and the distortions of over a thousand years of so called scholars by bringing the Living Sharia directly from Allah to clarify and direct as necessary. Praise to Allah for gracing the world with the continued ageless Earthy presence of the Living Prophet and his family, a miracle witnessed daily for over a century. Praise to the Living Prophet and his blessed family, guided by Allah’s divine wisdom and revealed knowledge, created the devices which brought forth such wonderful gifts, specifically, the miraculous procedure for women which met every tenet of the vaunted first 10 Decrees of the Living Sharia and beyond, enriching the Divine Emirate beyond measure. Allah willing, might all of humanity similarly be enriched by it!
The holy process of capturing of women’s living essences, separating and correcting them, deconstructing and repurposing the bodies into fine materials then reintegrating what had been women as inanimate but living feminine Purdah Objects, was beyond his full technical and spiritual understanding, but he had seen the results in the Mazima and all his life in the other remade feminine objects of Divine Emirati lands. He did not have to understand for Allah had said it, the Living Prophet revealed it, and that settled it. He was of the third generation now afforded the opportunity to experience the rewards of living with, loving, caring for, and being served by not by flesh and blood women but living cloth, enmeshed products of form and spirit capable of only halal and incapable of any haram. Fitnah’s corrosive influence was eliminated in the converted, and with even women who were previously fully veiled or reduced in other fashions being processed in ever greater numbers, the potential for fitnah was falling all the time, freeing men to live in harmony and build the Divine Emirate under the Living Prophet’s guidance into the jewel of this world, advancing humanity to the brightest future it had ever had. On the floor of that great room in that great museum, in that great city of the great and Divine Emirate, Salim and the other boys prayed on in fervor well into the night before passing out exhausted, changed and wiser boys, no, men for the rest of their lives.
A broad smile came to Salim’s lips at those memories, still so fresh and vivid after a decade, resonating like they happened yesterday. A change in sound and motion broke his remembered reverie as the transport began its deceleration and descent to its destination. He would be on the ground in only short while, having traveled over 5,000 kilometers since it lifted off less than two hours before. Sheik al-Wahrani, had done him one final honor this day. An unmarried woman up for conversion was traditionally redesigned to her father’s wishes. Daughters that had low marriage prospects and little chance of leaving the house due to their families’ status or their personal unpopularity would fall into that category, and a father might choose to spare them a life of disappointment by having them made into a decorative object for the house, into a special treasured garment like a lovemaking burqa for a sister or other more successful female relative, or often simply having her disassociated and commended to Allah out of kindness and consideration with the help of the Society. But none of that would be necessary because a wedding was at hand, and Mr. al-Wahrani graciously allowed Salim the prerogatives that would be his as husband and promised to fund any conversion costs to his specifications. All it took was Salim briefly mentioning that the Sheik may need the services of the Ladies Awrah Elimination Society if the negotiations sent awry.
The Society, among their so many vital roles, performed reputation restorations for families with such troubles, being the only official Living Sharia sanctioned source to conduct honor disassociations. In a beautiful private Namus Covenant, much like a wedding save for the fact no groom was involved, for she was considered a bride of Allah, the unmarriageable young woman and any unmarried sisters of the troubled family, they too irrevocably tainted by association, were assigned to the custody of the Society. On the day of the Covenant, dressed in their finest and thickest most concealing veils, the ladies were taken to the Ladies Center and repledged to the Mighty and Most Merciful Allah with a Society imam repeating the words of the Shahada for them. Placed in a booth and dissolutioned together as the family watched, their personality matrices were specially held in a conscious state in the machine’s data buffers after their bodily deconstruction. The attending family members feasted and interacted with the dematerialized girls through computer access via Link while they celebrated together the first step in their cleansing for the rest of the day until the coming Magrib prayer call.
The Muezzin’s chant broke the feast and as the family members prayed their rakats for Allah’s forgiveness and benevolence the data buffers commenced emptying, systematically erasing the girls, releasing them to mingle and drift away with the chanted words of the Koran and Living Sharia. As the final prayer word sounds echoed out of the hall the last vestiges of the fallen ladies’ data were purged and commended to Allah’s everlasting care like aspirant Mazima. The Covenant complete, the girls, by entering dignified and honored nonexistence, removed the stain from the clan by leaving no trace in the world, completing the second and final step of the cleansing ritual. The deed done, family honor itself would be legally recorded as restored once the quite substantial Diyya was paid to the Society. The steep price kept the Namus Covenant the exclusive option of the very richest, for whom nearly any price was acceptable to maintain their moral standing.
In the negotiations with Sheik al-Wahrani, Salim was granted the right to convert her how he wished; she would be everything he desired. While he would not experience feeling the seven layers of Suhaila’s honeymoon veils and gloves slipping over the smooth precious metallic shell of her full Hazzin as he consummated in her golden sheath on the final night of the wedding celebration, his wedding night now promised even more.
Connecting in over Link, he reviewed his short list of preferred Iqdala designs, a selection was due and he intended to transmit the specifications before his arrival. Being the liberal he was, all his finalist selections were whole bodied designs and would provide Suhaila the full permitted range of mobility and sensations to which she had been accustomed as a preconvert biological woman. Once the Iqdala was fully clothed in the Purdah Object’s layers, it interfaced and awakened the dormant personality matrix encoded in the fibers and the feminine Purdah Object could then control the Iqdala as her own body so long as it wore her. While physically mute, like all Purdah Objects, the female voice being one of the biggest sources of fitnah, Salim planned to allow full Link access so she could freely text with him and others he approved of as well as spend time and socialize in the virtual mosques of the Digital Feminine Faith Communes. The Iqdala design he liked would also give her just enough shape to still feel very feminine, filling out her cloth body with hidden womanly curves and making the transition even easier to accept. While permitted to be attractive and pleasurable Iqdalas were mandated to be faceless and nonrepresentational enough that they would not cause fitnah or be mistaken for sin inducing flesh.
Suhaila’s Iqdala Design
Iqdalas were most definitely not permitted to resemble any actual woman, being against Mohammed’s (PBUH) original injunction against depictions of people in any form, a commandment upheld by the Living Prophet. Such a prohibition did not affect Salim in the least, since as a believing Muslim man, and particularly after his Mazima encounter, it was women’s clothing and not actual women that he was attracted to and desired congress with.
Depending on the options Salim chose, certain activities could be preprogrammed into the Iqdala, automatic Salat activated by the sound of the Muezzin’s call was a mandatory installation by law, but calligraphy, hospitality service, and musical instrument skills were popular installations and ones that he planned to add. All Iqdala actions, automatic or those under voluntary control of the Purdah Objects it wore were overrideable by command of the husband or any mahram man. Very important to Salim were the pleasuring routines and the associated ports that would give him the utmost in ecstasy and therefore required the greatest of care in choosing. Salim decided Suhaila’s Iqdala would be equipped with two Type X pleasuring ports, front and rear; each synthex lined and equipped with a nanoscale field generator array, capable of producing on his member an infinite combination of vibration patterns, pressures, motions and intensities. Immensely expensive and clearly the state of the art, the array of the Type X port, coupled with the Iqdala’s carefully selected automatic sexual subroutines, allowed the reproduction of the lovemaking characteristics of any living or mechanical pleasuring device in its extensive database, enough for a lifetime of enjoyment. The immense expense was not a concern to Salim, with the costs saved on the Hazzin, Ozzat, and the bride price covering the luxury.
His distant uncle Hanbal, who first clued him into Suhaila had clued also him in to joys of the Type X, coming away very impressed with its capabilities that after getting the opportunity to experience one that was installed in a concubine at one of the Living Prophet’s son’s court entertaining palaces. Hanbal recently had his young fourth wife reprocessed from a massive flowing Parisian style Burq’Ariisa to a simple white sphere, a completely featureless 30cm ball bearing a single white Type X pleasuring port and a pair of orifices concealing unfurlable fluidic long white synthex rubber gloves for gentle caressing.
Hanbal’s 4th Wife, Living Gloves With Pleasuring Port
In essence this Wife was a modern Living Gloves Pearling, but a completely inorganic being, not encasing a biotic core for she was restructured from fabric to a densified solid matter shape. Her life was as a living sex toy installed in his bedchamber permanently affixed to the end of a flexible actuator arm, allowing her sphere to be positioned in any orientation he wished as he was serviced by it. He spent hours a day every day there enthralled with her abilities. Hanbal said that his other wives were starting to get jealous of the attention he lavished on number four, and that when Allah blessed him with enough credits, his other three wives were going to get the same treatment but didn’t know it yet. It would be his surprise gift to them all. While that was currently out of reach for young Salim, he greatly looked forward to having Suhaila’s Type X equipped Iqdala and her voluminous folds of satin beauty to share his bed with.
As a Purdah Object, the wife would customarily be worn during the intimate act while the husband was serviced by the Iqdala so while the husband took pleasure in making love to the clothes the wife received her ecstasy from the Iqdala’s pleasure sensations through her interface as the internal servicing ports did their work. Salim intended to do this and even more for he also chose the receiving remote option to allow Suhaila to feel the same pleasures while the Iqdala was not actually physically wearing her, such as when he chose to dress it in a different outfit to please him. Based on his proclivities he expected this to be quite often, as many husbands, with their wives assistance and input, amassed and made love to extensive wardrobes of beautiful feminine clothing acquired for their wives’ Iqdalas. For the ultra elites, purely as a display of wealth and status, every article in their pleasure wardrobe was itself a converted woman, not ones so exalted and honored as a Wife, but servant girls or foreigners unceremoniously purchased then repurposed in factories as concubines of cloth. Made into pairs of stockings, sexy niqabs, gloves, fantasy dresses, loving burqas, bondage outfits or other similarly arousing costumes their sole purpose was to be used and forgotten until needed again. Pleasure garments had their memories wiped and pleasure centers eliminated in their transformations as unneeded data and in order to help them adjust to their divinely ordained service, new simple memory and personality engrams were installed. All were rewritten to believe they had always been what they now were, never human ladies, but always living ladies’ clothes, and all made and most pleased to be part of harems of converted feminine things.
The wives of these fantastically wealthy men often served as the mistresses of their husband’s harems, and it was quite the sport in the Divine Emirate for Purdah Object ladies of leisure to spend their days fussily choosing and competing to acquire the finest of raw material women, designing the clothes, ordering the conversions, and then dressing up their Iqdalas to please their husbands. Such activity was a near full time occupation for many Purdah Objects, broken up only by the day’s prayer times and the needs of the husband. It was all very halal activity and highly encouraged by Emirati officials, both as a great driver for the economy and more importantly, a reducer of the world’s awrah. Salim dreamed of such a life one day for himself and Suhaila and his other future wives and Insha’Allah maybe someday it would be so. The logic of the system credited, like all so many good innovations for females, to the inspiration provided by Living Prophet’s First wife Anisah, Most Loved and Exalted, First Wife of the Living Prophet, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah, had believing men change their believing women into perfected Islamic veils, and then these beautiful garments reduced many more unbelieving women into further articles of clothing to please their husbands, which in turn pleased Allah, who provided the believing men with sons and still more believing women as wives to perpetuate the cycle, bringing joy, freedom and a better life to all involved in the most natural cycle of all Islamic creation. Salim never failed to marvel at the beauty of the process and a prayer of praise to Allah and the Living Prophet for revealing it to mankind.
As Salim continued to make decisions about Suhaila’s Iqdala he grew more excited. It was common knowledge among men, stories told amongst brothers, that it was very erotic to Purdah Object wives to be left as a helpless and immobile empty article of clothing completely uninvolved in the sexual act, the real reason behind Salim choosing the receiving remote option. Whether draped nearby to passively witness or more erotically folded away in her storage receptacle for maximum effect, feeling the transmitted sexual sensations while her husband took his pleasure with her Iqdala, experiencing everything he did to it and what it did back but unable to actively participate was rumored to be the height of sensual ecstasy for a Purdah Object. Sensitive to her needs, he did not want to deny Suhaila experiencing this pleasure. A simple software upgrade, which Salim also opted for, allowed the Iqdala to broadcast its sensations over Link to multiple recipients, a useful function for the future once he took on other wives and giving him the option to please them all at once. Settling on the classic golden Iqdala armature he long favored, he transmitted his choices so manufacturing would begin forthwith and Insha’Allah be complete by his arrival which, judging by the mountains looming ahead, was only a few minutes away.
A rush of hot wind radiated outward across the expansive landing pad accompanied by a deep bass note rumble as the burnished copper skinned transport settled down on extended landing legs, its exterior clicking and popping as it cooled from its transatmopsheric passage. The circular iris of the transport hatchway dilated open and Salim made his way to the edge of the landing pad where he took in one of the most magnificent views he had ever had the pleasure to see. Before and below him lay the Khyber Pass, a great gorge in a chain of mountains that linked Asia to the Indian subcontinent. A treasure of geography, men had fought over and civilizations clashed over this passage since time immemorial, but peace had reigned here for generations after the superior civilization won the day, the torturous path safely under the rule of the Divine Emirate. Behind and above him, linked to the pad by a gossamer suspension bridge and taking up an entire leveled mountaintop crowning the pass was the vast Anisah Mosque built to honor the Most Loved and Exalted, First Wife of the Living Prophet, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah. The elongated hexagonal edifice, constructed entirely of mirror finished solid silver bricks, measured a kilometer across its long axis, and each face was graced with hundreds of massive columns and buttressed arches. The six corners bore minarets five hundred meters high that soared over the central courtyard, a paved pathway of tiles of solid gold set in black obsidian creating a labyrinthine lattice across the expansive open space. Viewed from above, the entire structure traced the form of the eyescreen of a Muslimah’s burqa, the universal symbol of feminine Islam.
Finished ten years ago, the Living Prophet himself led the construction effort which spanned only 40 days from start to finish. The Living Prophet stood alone upon the peak on the first day of the build, performed Salat of the Fajr prayer and, tapping the energy pipeline laid directly from the First Land, unleashed Allah’s gift upon the lifeless rock. A blinding white beam burst forth, blasting away rubble, vaporizing it with an otherworldly howling roar. Guided by massive robotic arms aboard a hovering aerial barge the blinding light passed over the mountaintop day and night removing layers of stone until after the seventh day the summit was a sheet of solid translucent black obsidian glass, the foundation and floor of the mosque. The energy was then redirected into a reactor vessel aboard the barge where, retuned and focused upon hundreds of thousands of tons of collected rock residue, the beam transmuted, shaped, and solidified the material with automated accuracy. Through Allah’s grace, glowing red hot solid silver bricks rained from the sky and dropped to earth. Precisely guided by magnetic forces under the direction of the Living Prophet, they fell into place fusing together in perfect order unceasingly for three weeks, constructing the glorious monument to his specifications for the glory of the One True God, a testament to the wonders of the Living Sharia and the Divine Emirate. Serving since then as a treasure of the faith and a beacon to the world, it gleamed in the high altitude sun like the light of Jannah and marked the spot where Anisah, Most Loved and Exalted, First Wife of the Living Prophet, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah, took her Shahada, entered Islam, and inspired the Living Prophet to change the world. The mosque and its attached Anisah Institute of Purdah Studies formed the largest and most opulent center of feminine worship and scholarship in all of the Divine Emirate.
Salim had never been here before but always wished that someday he would come, for this is where he long dreamed to bring any future wives to be converted into Purdah Objects. The Anisah Institute was the most prestigious destination other than being made a Mazima on the shore of the Eye of Allah for a woman to be objectified, the Institute having pioneered the complete matter dissolution process now widespread across the Divine Emirate at their original location in the First Land. He never dreamed to be able to afford the Zakat required, for having one’s feminine objects converted here was a mark of the elite. Salim gazed back across the pad, empty save for his transport, come Friday prayers it would be filled by thousands of pods, each bearing feminine objects from across the Divine Emirate to worship, Purdah Objects, Pearl reductions, encasements, living garments, veiled and remade forms of every description, all with their awrah obliterated for the sake of Allah and their husband’s or father’s honor. By Living Sharia decree the Anisah Mosque was one of a few places a female could travel unattended and they did, borne by transports and converging by the tens of thousands weekly, to worship and traverse the massive inner courtyard’s zigzag tiled lattice labyrinth path in silent daylong prayerful procession. Multitudes of living garments all losing themselves in forming a continuous flowing river of swishing cloth in motion to bask in Allah’s favor and goodness, all praying to hasten the time that every female in the world would be as fortunate as they.
On this day however, the Institute was the province of both men and females, for today was a conversion day and the evening processing session would begin for the public in two hours. It was early for the public maybe, but right on time for him thought Salim upon hearing the sonic boom and seeing the flash of the approaching second transport that had followed him from the al-Wahrani compound. A second rush of warm air gusted past as the transport landed 100 meters away and two remotes wheeled across the pad to take positions at the exit iris, escorts waiting to chaperone the passenger. The iris dilated open and his heart leapt even though what was before him was exactly what he expected to see. Descending the ramp was a figure enveloped in a nearly conical indigo chador with matching niqab, her gloves and stockings invisible in the voluminous folds and layers of the fabric. It was Suhaila and this was the first time he had ever laid eyes on her. Even from 100 meters away he could tell she had impressive style, piety and bearing. Even though it was known the Institute would be largely deserted at this hour, it being the local midday Qaylulah period, she wore enough layers to shield not just her awrah, but even the slightest hint of its shape. It thrilled him to know that in just a short while she would have no awrah at all and she would for all intents and purposes be his, even though the wedding itself was a week away. The remotes moved along side her to escort her across the bridge to the mosque and he noticed that she was gliding smoothly with no hint of taking steps. She had been affixed to a mobility platform. Clearly her father had taken no chances that she would come to harm through an ill timed stumble or sudden motion during her voyage, the platform’s magnetic field holding her securely. Salim watched intently as she and the remotes began moving off toward the bridge, he himself would follow after a few minutes to keep a respectful distance. No need to create scandal when a moment of such honor was at hand. Suhaila was but a dark spot on the bridge as Salim walked past her transport toward the mosque.
“I shall walk with you.” A voice called from the iris.
Sheik al-Wahrani emerged and joined in step with him. Salim did not expect him to be there. The remotes were taking care of Suhaila and there was no need for chaperoning. A moment’s doubt crossed Salim’s mind as he thought through the situation. Did he plan to violate the deal? If so why even come here? It had been registered over Link with the Marriage Committee and was public. There would be consequences to the al-Wahranis if it was terminated. Salim knew he had the advantage. He banished the thought. Yes, he had won but it was on good terms. It was Sheik al-Wahrani himself who suggested the Anisah Mosque as the conversion site and provided him the funds, and made the arrangements, as he had personal business contacts with one of the Institute Directors. With this close contact the Sheik was able to set up the immediate off hours private processing Suhaila was to undergo and Salim, as future husband was to direct and witness. The bride’s father, having signed the conversion rights away in the negotiation no longer had a role in the process and even if he did, as if Suhaila were unengaged, he would merely send her off and then receive the finished Purdah Object via transport upon completion. Why expend his personal capital to engage in wedding negotiations if only to waste it?
They walked together in silence across the bridge when finally the Sheik spoke, doubtlessly sensing Salim’s discomfort.
“You understand Salim, she is my only daughter among the 14 sons Allah has blessed me with. As such, I have grown close to her. I did not want to miss the chance to be with her before she is yours, even though she has brought a cloud over my house that will Insha’Allah be lifted very soon.”
Salim did not answer but nodded his head and smiled. Sheik al-Wahrani’s words comforted him, putting him more at ease. Perhaps it was natural if irregular for him to be there. His own father did not show such closeness to his sisters, but who was Salim to say such love could not exist in another family, no matter how unusual it seemed.
They crossed under the broad center archway of the stunning quicksilver surfaced building, their reflections dancing across the columns and down the exterior colonnade to seeming infinity and giving the impression of many where only two passed. Salim wondered how amazing it must look when thousands of dark obscured figures congregated in the space, what a sight that must be to behold. Through an inner archway they crossed and Salim could see into the broad expanse of the central courtyard. A few scattered and distant living burqas slowly traced the labyrinth path, moving like solitary ghosts in slow prayerful purpose.
As Salim and company continued to walk the grand colonnaded passage, they passed the corner of the mosque where the labyrinth path reached its end, having traced untold hundreds of kilometers across the entirety of the courtyard. There, Salim watched as three burqas finished their worshipful voyage together. Two turned and briefly brushed their embroidered face panels together with the first and sensually caressed her exquisite long gloves with theirs, the traditional acts of affection and lovemaking between Feminine Objects. As the single burqa stood on the last path tile receiving her glove love, from above a great bronze mechanical orb descended before the waiting blue burqa and rotated silently until one of many lenses on its surface trained on her fabric. The two companions, Sister Wives Salim surmised, backed away once the first burqa shuddered visibly, having been brought through her gloves to her final orgasm. The lone burqa turned, gave a gentle bow and the gleaming orb emanated a beam of golden energy which enveloped her fabric body completely. She rose upward, held in the light, and the Iqdala that supported and wore her stepped away, departing the scene. The now empty burqa shimmered and rippled helplessly in the beam as she was lowered. After ten seconds she began to collapse rapidly down toward the floor, dissolving and condensing into a small shape as the remote’s beam changed its focus.
Crystallization for Eternal Emplacement
The beam deactivated, leaving an inert golden metallic block replacing what had been a burqa mere seconds before . A remote retrieved her and joined a line of others busy lifting some of the untold millions of heavy gold tiles and emplacing the small fist sized geometric forms into excavated niches underneath, sealing the tiles back in place with a quick burst of transmuting energy. After some thought Salim realized he was witnessing one of the most very honorable and loving destinies a Purdah Object could be graced with, Emplacement.
Emplacement was a unique service of the Anisah Mosque, where beloved feminine objects were afforded the honor of spending eternity as a physical part of the most holy place of feminine worship in all of Islam. These privileged living garments were reformatted for eternal storage, their essence distilled down to a hard golden cuboctohedral solid, and fused into the obsidian beneath the labyrinth tiles of the courtyard for all time,
A Feminine Object Prepared for Emplacment
forever being part of the great worshipful Feminine Hajj procession. The footstep vibrations of the ladies shuffling steadily above forever keeping them conscious and aware of their hallowed and honored prayerful state, crystallized into a singular unending moment of contemplation, beauty, and submission as a passive part of the mosque. There they joined uncounted multitudes of fellow sisters as elegant identical and anonymous shapes sequestered away in a state of permanent inanimate Ihram under Allah’s everloving gaze. Jannah on Earth thought Salim, Insha’Allah may Suhaila receive this honor someday. Very devout ladies, on the occasion of navigating the complete labyrinthine path one thousand times were offered Emplacement as a reward for their deep faith. None who achieved the honor ever refused. With the permission of their Mahrams, many devoted feminine objects, as Salim had just witnessed, made it their life’s goal.
Generous husbands, when called by Allah to take on a new wife beyond the four he may legally possess, were the most ardent supporters and by far frequent users of the Emplacement service. Acting quietly in a soon to be former wife’s’ best interests, Zakat was remitted, and upon her next Anisah Mosque visit, an orb would descend upon the wife unawares, crystallize and store her away ensuring the superfluous former wife’s perpetual dignity and religious fulfillment while making room for Allah’s new intentions in the men’s lives.
Being inanimate, the lifespan of a converted Purdah Object was indefinite, she would continue to exist so long as her husband or family Mahrams and Allah Almighty wished. However there inevitably came times when circumstances, unfortunate or not, or the mysterious but infallible will of Allah deemed a Feminine Object no longer relevant to the life of the husband or a family. Such Feminine Objects of lost status could be gifted to other close female relatives for use as wardrobe pieces, but many languished in closets or receptacles, never to be worn again. Rarely they were reformed into decorative objects and left at local mosques as offerings while beseeching Allah for a special favor or blessing but were then just sold off to uncertain futures. The most fortunate experienced a beautiful discrete Emplacement, benefitting all involved.
Leaving the sight of the central courtyard a remote met Salim and the Sheik just outside a 50 meter high archway and after offering pleasantries, took them inside and down an inner colonnaded hall. The remote lead on to one of the massive corners of the mosque which was fully enclosed, not part of the worship area, the spaces of the Anisah Institute and its famed conversion center. Inside the grand high ceilinged hall a line of hundreds of identical golden doors extended along both sides of the long corridor and extended out of sight, the conversion booths. An automated moving sidewalk, currently stilled, ran along the front of the doors to service the booths, efficiently and speedily delivering ladies to their appointments with the devices therein. Unlike conversions done at a home province local Ladies Center or Mosque, ones held here did not accommodate a large all night family gathering for a Conquering of the Awrah celebration. At such an event, the clan and the guests would wish Allah’s blessings upon the convertee while watching her dissolution, with feasting and celebration going on all during her disappearance into the machine and reaching its peak once the reconstitution began and the new Purdah Object took shape. Overall it was a joyous occasion and one of the highlights of any feminine object’s life. A conversion at the Anisah Institute was such an honor, and such a favor that demand simply prohibited having such time and space allocated to the general public for such events. The honor and cachet of having one’s females made into objects here outweighed any social loss of not entertaining ones peers as awrah was eliminated from the family. As such the Institute was designed for high throughput and Suhaila today would be one of the some five thousand Purdah Objects converted there every day.
They continued on following the guiding remote and entered a smaller well appointed and furnished room hung with rich tapestries and golden tiles bearing calligraphic inscriptions and dominated by a large silver table in the center. A huge plate glass picture window overlooking the rugged mountains, landing pad, and the pass below occupied the far wall. The wall opposite the window housed two golden framed doors, each with a large darkened glass window. The room was a private conversion parlor. Salim had been granted the use of a luxurious private conversion parlor reserved for distinguished guests. He could barely contain his excitement for here is where his dream bride, something he had desired for a decade, would be created.
The remote led him to the table and Salim stood next to it, waiting. The Sheik moved off and, eschewing comfort, moved off and took a seat on the floor before the picture window, looking to the mountains. The silver table surface resolved itself into a three dimensional holographic display, the control panel for the conversion booths, ready for Salim to input his choices. Salim moved his hands in the air over the surface and familiarized himself with the options, this would be quick as they were actually quite limited which suited Salim just fine. Each place of conversion throughout the Divine Emirate had regional styles for which they were known and by Living Sharia decree this is what they produced. The Anisah Institute was no exception and it was why he longed to bring his future wives here ever since that day in the Doha museum gallery, for here they made women into living Pakhtoon burqas, nearly identical in style to the pattern of the Mazimas. Suhaila was about to be made into the only object that had ever truly stirred his soul, a silken bodied full length embroidered burqa, with attached glove sleeves, an inanimate object of pure modesty, femininity, and beauty forever.
A life size image of a burqa appeared and floated above the table. Salim touched it in places and where he did the image changed slightly, altering its appearance, his hand nearly quaking with anticipation as he did so.
Salim Designs the New Suhaila
The burqa grew in fullness and took on a silvery bluish white color. In choosing a light color, Salim consigned Suhaila to a future of still being veiled in public, even though she herself would be a veil. Any time she we would be in the presence of Non-Mahrams, she would have to further disappear under dark concealing layers as the 10 Decrees applied to all females, even ones who were inanimate objects, her light and attractive coloration and satin sheen might still yet cause fitnah in public to Non-Mahrams. Salim made further choices, and extensive flouncy white lace ruffles appeared on the arms and along the edges of the Bannu headpiece. The embroidered eyescreen and decorative stitching that would be Suhaila’s new face changed and changed again until it was a traditional elongated hexagon with an octagonal weave inner mesh lattice done in white thread, surrounded with delicate floralesque decorations. A small delicately embroidered white heart would grace the space where her lips would have been, symbolizing her love for Islam and her husband. It was to be a gorgeous fabric face representing serene feminine beauty and pious submission into which he would gaze as he made love to the soft and billowing folds of his Purdah Object burqa wife.
The overall appearance resembled a Mazima, but taller, fuller, and without the gold embroidery, which was reserved for the Mazima class alone. In another departure from the Mazima, since she was not to be immobile, Salim ran his hand across the bottom of the image, and two white shiny high heeled boots with six inch heels appeared. Barely visible under her bottom hem, they would extend up to the mid thigh of the Iqdala under the burqa skirt and replace Suhaila’s legs. Admiring his handiwork, Salim stepped back from the display and gave a nod to the remote, locking in his selections and signaling ready for the next phase, for the new Suhaila’s design was complete. Sheik al-Wahrani looked over his shoulder impassively at the image, gave a slight nod toward Salim and returned to his view of the mountains.
Unneeded, the control table melted away into the floor and a thick pile Persian rug bearing overstuffed velvet cushions materialized in its place. Salim sat and reclined upon them, making himself comfortable facing the two dark windowed doors and called for shisha. An ornate golden water pipe two meters tall emerged from an alcove behind a carved screen in the corner of the room, rolling on its spherical base and taking up position next the cushions. As Salim watched intently two exquisite and delicate metallic long gloves of spun gold thread with slender fingers the size of a doll’s or child’s extended from the 30 centimeter wide teardrop shaped filigree etched bulb in the middle of the narrow vertical pipestem and reached up to the top of the pipe where they gently packed muessel tobacco into the crown like bowl and placed glowing coals upon the mixture, lighting it. Keeping their position near the bowl, the gloves tended the coals and the mixture, clearing ash and keeping it refreshed. A third long glove unrolled, filled, then uncoiled one of the gold and lapis banded smoking hoses and guided it to his lips, holding the mouthpiece for him from which he appreciated the sweet smoke. As he puffed, a fourth and final long golden glove emerged, elongated and slid up under his robes where it gently caressed his already stiff member. It was the first time he ever had the delicious opportunity to smoke from a Pipe Mistress and once again he gave thanks to Allah for granting him the fortunate series of events that allowed him to be in this fine room. As he waited, gazing upon the Pipe Mistress, a plan for his eventual wife number four began dancing in his head as another head experienced its own delicate dance.
With a faint hum, a glass divider wall descended from the ceiling, separating the room across the middle with the Salim and the Sheik on one side and the golden framed doors on the other. Clear from the spectator side, the glass wall’s other side was mirrored and it was in that long reflective surface Suhaila vaguely though her layers saw herself floating, a featureless cone of deep blue flowing cloth as the mobility platform carried her forth into the chamber. The platform floated her in front of one of the two booth doors and turned her to face the mirrored wall before settling to the floor.
A recorded voice began to chant a prayer.
“For as Allah has instructed the Living Prophet all of a woman is awrah and fitnah is the root source of all evils of the world; For as the Living Prophet has instructed us that fitnah can only be defeated through faith in Allah and the Living Sharia; For all of these truths made evident may this flawed and sinful female be joined bodily with the Islamic faith; For in witnessing the destruction of her own awrah she shall experience the transcendence of sin; For Allah commands she join her sisters as a purified holy object for the His use and that of righteous men in spreading His truth across the world. Ameen.”
With that, the lights in the conversion booths switched on, both glass doors opened, and a thin faceless golden body stepped forth from the booth on the right, gleaming in polished gold and white composite plastic, intricate joints, lights, and mechanisms visible in the seams of its body panels as it stepped lightly with catlike grace and stood next to Suhaila’s heavily veiled form. Her Iqdala was complete. Salim puffed deeper at the lovely sight and the Pipe Mistress kept up her ministrations as his heart rate increased a notch, a heady mixture of excitement and trepidation as he had heard rumours whispered in gatherings of his male friends, of what was to come next. The Iqdala turned to face Suhaila, and with mechanical precision and deftness, relieved her of her veiling layer by layer, dressing itself in the voluminous chador, abaya, khimar, jelbab, six layers of niqabs, and long black satin overgloves, symbolically taking her place in the world. Salim watched this closely; unable to look away, in a state of rapture he had not been since his time standing before the Mazima. The Sheik had left his window seat and stood at Salim’s side, he too unable to look away from his daughter, seeing down to a layer that even a father did not regularly witness. Suhaila was left clad only in a translucent ankle length white chiffon khimar underveil, her close fitting stockings and long thin sheer undergloves. With the light shining from the booth behind her, a clear silhouette of her awrah was visible through the filmy cloth accompanied by the slightest glint of light reflecting from a pair of wet eyes behind the translucent lace eyescreen window. Finishing its work, the Iqdala stepped away out of the area, leaving Suhaila alone in the center of the room in front of the cold and unfeeling one way mirror, alone in the presence of her barely concealed awrah. For the men, and indeed anyone in the Divine Emirate, seeing so much awrah would typically be a strong violation of the Living Sharia in any other venue, a veritable fitnah storm, but by Living Sharia decree, as it was awrah facing imminent destruction and the witnesses were present to cause its destruction, the danger of fitnah harming the two men was considered zero, but still an unnerving experience.
The mobility platform levitated again, backing toward the waiting conversion booth. A soft whimper echoed through the parlor from the unmuffled white veiled figure, visible and growing wet patches causing the fabric to cling to the contours of the face underneath. A single sob and pleading utterance of “Allah” then echoed in the chamber, likely the only audible word she had said in her adult life and most probably it would be her last. How sad and embarrassed she must feel thought Salim, reacting to the strange sound and bizarre tonality of the female voice, being so uncovered in an unfamiliar place and exposing her awrah to the room and the all seeing Allah. How relieved she must be in knowing that her embarrassment would soon be deleted.
The conversion booth was a white walled cylindrical chamber two and a half meters in diameter, brightly lit from the evenly glowing walls themselves. The floor and ceiling were circular silver polished disks each transected by a dozen hair thin white lines of light radiating like spokes from their centers. The booth floor was sunken compared to the rest of the parlor, a step or two below the plush carpet of the rest of the expansive room. Scriptural sources Salim studied in his university Islamic Science class credited the machine’s initial design to Anisah, with Allah ordaining her the knowledge and understanding that made it possible. Not only being the first of the Living Prophet’s Wives to experience Pearling so long ago to live under Decree 10, she herself was the first of His Wives, and indeed the first free Emirati female to be further processed into a Purdah Object through a conversion machine, a device of her own making. To this very day she still lived on as a creation of fabric splendor, inspiring countless millions of the feminine gender to submit to their divinely ordained role as hidden handmaidens of Islam, pretty objects worthy of their husband’s and Allah’s love, and supporting the Living Prophet in his quest to bring the Word to all peoples in the world. Thusly Anisah forevermore earned the additional honorific, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah, and has been the shining example of the Islamic duties expected of all Feminine Objects for generations.
The mobility platform stopped in the booth above the center of the circle and two thin mechanical arms emerged from the slits in the walls, each wielding a white point of light at their tip. The arms passed the lights rapidly about her body, following the contours of the flesh and in less than a second, the underveil, stockings and gloves were ribbons lying on the shining floor, exposing Suhaila’s awrah like it had never been to anyone before. Salim audibly gasped at the sight, and reflexively fell back. Revulsion bubbled up unbidden with a wave of nausea, even though the law said there was no fitnah to be had. The thought of a Muslimah completely unveiled before his eyes was simply too much and he couldn’t help but avert his gaze for a time before eventually looking back askance, with one eye closed and a hand held up half shielding his face. Revilement reigned as this was far, far outside the realm of his experience; he had never actually seen nor ever thought to see a woman unveiled before. Like staring at the burning sun, it simply wasn’t done.
Between waves of roiling emotions of high anxiety, morbid curiosity, and terror a first and peculiar thought came to fore, despite what he imagined, adult females had human faces remarkably similar to his own. He didn’t expect that and was quite taken aback. The effect of the different curvaceous proportions of the body, the odd smoothness of the skin, and the lurid dark emptiness of her crotch coupled with that familiar yet so alien face was very disturbing, and to Salim’s eyes quite horrible. The form before him stirred alternating hot pulses of fascination and fear, muddying his thoughts and skewing rationality like a drug he had no tolerance for. This is the evil of fitnah, Salim decided, physically squirming and sweating under its onslaught, and he prayed and wished for her fervently to quickly become a mass of cloth or some halal encapsulated form once again like a normal feminine object before this unnatural and deviant nakedness damaged them both. Had there been no glass barrier at least providing some measure of physical separation, Salim was certain that the sight would have caused him to pass out completely at the horror. The Sheik looked on stone-faced, only a single bead of sweat at his brow belying his emotional state. The mobility platform set down in the center of the booth and the blue glow that surrounded Suhaila’s feet shut off, cutting the magnetic field that had gently supported and shielded her and prevented her from coming to harm while the platform had borne her along since leaving home. As the platform slid away from under her feet and exited the booth, Suhaila involuntarily took a step backward, leaving her standing unsupported at the back of the chamber. She was a pale and not entirely thin naked and curvy young woman with dark brown hair halfway down her back and large light brown eyes, her cheeks tear stained and blinking with the realization that nothing was helping her any longer to remain upright, her feet bare and touching the floor for the first time in years.
Suhaila’s eyes looked straight ahead toward her reflection in the mirror wall outside the booth, and she took a small hesitant step further back toward the rear wall of her booth… where she planted a foot and pushed off with all her strength, aiming for the exit. She bounded forth, one, two steps, gaining speed and covering the diameter of the conversion booth in seconds and surging outward, upward and airborne, bare arms outstretched and legs in full extended stride as she crossed the plane of the doorway; leaping toward the outside, away from the alcove, away from her preordained destiny as an inanimate fabric Purdah garment.
There was a flash, dazzling bright and blue centered on the opening which upon fading revealed Suhaila, frozen in midflight by the blue glow of a magnetic field that had sprung into existence across the threshold, caching her trailing left foot still inside the opening. Suhaila, feeling the field gripping and paralyzing her muscles drew a final deep breath and unleashed a primal scream, her piercing anguished cry of ” NOOO…!” cutting off prematurely as her muscles fell under the device’s control and she was silenced, floating suspended in space, trapped in blue magnetic amber. The shade of the field changed slightly and her frozen form loosened and legs straightened to a standing posture, her reaching arms relaxing before bending and resting with her hands on her shoulders and her head giving a demure slight down tilt. The wild mask of panic on her face slackened and a serene expression emerged, her eyes downcast but still ahead toward the mirror wall, peering under half opened lids, her lips slightly parted as she was composed in the first position of feminine Islamic Prayer. So arranged, she floated backward silent, static, and serene toward the chamber. The remarkable blue field drew her numbed and unfeeling body into the booth and positioned her in midair above the center of the circular pad, where it supported and sustained her and would maintain her physiologic functions and consciousness no matter how much of her soon disappeared. Suhaila’s repositioning finished and the thick gold framed glass door swung into place and closed securely, locking her into the booth.
Salim promised Allah that he would perform extra rakats at the next prayer time and every time thereafter that month, asking Allah for protection from the Shaytan, who had shown his evil power by possessing poor Suhaila at her most vulnerable moment, seeking to prevent her receiving the reward in Islam due her for the erasing of her awrah. It was a lesson in faith he promised himself to never forget as long as he lived.
The circular floor of the conversion booth began to rotate, the illuminated inscribed spoke lines glowing brightly and then disappearing in a silver-white blur as the spin rate rapidly increased in concert with a high whine of steadily rising pitch. The sound and the spin stabilized and the silver disk of the floor slowly began to rise to meet Suhaila, firm in the support of the blue energy field. The silver plane drew upward to the tips of her pointed toes which began to disappear as they made contact with blurred glow of the rapidly spinning floor, the first traces of her body to be dissolutioned and subsumed into the holy machine. Salim’s Islamic Science classes taught the basics of female processing but the full details were far beyond him, state secrets only being fully understood by those whom Allah had blessed the Living Prophet to share the sacred knowledge with. Just as Salim had been taught, the floor rose steadily upward to make contact with fitnah inducing flesh, the body was shaved into gossamer layers by the revolving platform, only a single micrometer thick with each rapid pass of an inscribed glowing slot. Drawn into the device under the floor, each cross-sectional slice was instantaneously analyzed for material content, the unprecedented power of Divine Emirati supercomputer prowess brought to bear. The position, makeup, and energy state of each molecule was fully mapped as the slices were broken down, disintegrated, and transmuted to basic elements and energy by Allah’s holy power. The whole of a raw woman was processed this way, fed into the machine to catalog, digitize, and disassemble her to nonexistence, but storing the map of how Allah had made her so believing men could see the flaws He induced to test mankind.
Once her dissolution was complete, the device’s automated programming would translate the data, considered to be written in the language of Allah, for it contained the total plan for how she was built and the plan of her very soul, all her memories, thoughts, feelings and faith, her living spirit, encoded in the mapped molecules of her dissolutioned mind. The incredibly intricate software, itself considered a Holy Scripture authored by Allah and transcribed through the Living Prophet and the divinely inspired Anisah, Most Loved and Exalted, First Wife of the Living Prophet, Divine Mother of Emirati Purdah, would then edit the data, redrawing the map of how the female should be assembled, but without the awrah, or any behavioral flaws that tempted and led men astray and into the arms of the Shaytan. After a time, the device would then be reversed, with the raw materials and energy extracted during the dissolution used as a resource for Allah’s holy transmuting forces to construct a beautiful feminine article of Islamic clothing, the copied mental map’s synaptic connections being reconstructed in the warp and weft of the fabric so that her new and improved living essence, blessed with provided gifts would exist again within. What had once been a mere lowly female would be something divine and perfect, a Feminine Object manifested directly from the word of Allah. The machines of this holy process, one of the greatest gifts Allah had yet revealed to the Living Prophet and his family and in turn the civilized world, ran without the intervention of a single human hand, eliminating error in the all important task of ridding the world of fitnah. As a divine inspired product a Purdah Object is honored, living for all time as a symbol of female faith, a piece of Islam, fulfilling her preordained role in society by her complete and perpetual submission to His will for the glory of Allah and the custody of the man to whom she was entrusted.
Salim collected himself, now looking on with both eyes intently in reverie as Suhaila appeared to be submerging in a vat of swirling mercury, only existing from the knees up as the quite solid metallic disk of the floor and its silver cylindrical substructure rose inexorably upward, taking more space in the booth while Suhaila took ever less and claiming 10 centimeters of awrah every minute, one micrometer at a time for Allah. After a few minutes Suhaila’s legs were gone and her unsettling nether regions, the former source of all life, and by Prophetic decree all sin, soon and thankfully followed the legs into oblivion, all of their original functions from procreation to pleasuring long since rendered obsolete in the Divine Emirate by Islamic scientific advancements.
Suhaila Being Dissolutioned in the Conversion Parlor
Salim looked briefly away and motioned to the Pipe Mistress for her to return him as he had inadvertently knocked her back while recoiling at Suhaila’s unveiling. He decided that the now enthralling tableau before him of Suhaila inexorably being drawn into and disassembled by a machine to be turned from a woman into women’s clothing would be improved with a light smoke and more so by the soft gloves of the Pipe Mistress stroking his member as he watched these ever more fascinating and morally satisfying proceedings. He took the Mistresses’ smoking hose in hand to puff for himself, freeing two of her long golden gloves to do their work under his thobe.
Time only seemed to flow faster with his increased excitement as the rate of dissolution remained constant, finishing off her waistline, navel and lower ribcage before taking the bottom curve of her breasts. He did not understand the reverence and attraction they once held for men or the fitnah something so absurd and freakish could cause, appearing as a pair of globelike half melons grafted on like a pointless afterthought to her otherwise smooth chest. He had to stifle a laugh as they jiggled momentarily, the magnetic field holding them apparently weaker, before they too disappeared, taken into and eliminated by the rising solid metal. He was actually glad to see them go, particularly the dark pink olive sized nipples, which he found strange and particularly unnerving. The hands departed next, demurely bent at the wrists above the breasts, and he felt a nice wave of pleasure spread from his loins knowing that their intriguing and dare say it attractive shape would be soon duplicated, reconstructed as a pair of empty silken gloves ready to grace the Iqdala, delicate cloth appendages free of fitnah but possessing all possible beauty of form. As he stood at the control table at the beginning of this process he did briefly consider having Suhaila remade as just a pair of gloves, they being the single part of Feminine Object anatomy that fascinated him the most, but set aside the idea quickly when he thought of the Mazima and the gorgeousness of that full cloth body. Perhaps a third wife or a mistress would make a beautiful pair of attractive gloves to love and display, similar to what his Uncle Hanbal had done, Insha’Allah mused Salim, growing excited at the thought.
The conversion booth was now well over half full of spinning silver metal and very little of Suhaila was left to convert, her flesh dwindling away as she was processed. She looked like a kuffar art object, a carved bust sitting upon a broad gleaming pedestal in some museum display, similar to those countless millions of haram art pieces disintegrated by law in the lands that won their freedom and annexation into the Divine Emirate. Like those harmful idolatrous objects, the fitnah causing creation before him was not long for the world, inexorably being cut to pieces for the sake of Allah, an event his faith said should please him and very much did, but at the same time unexpectedly made him a little wistful, as he would never get to know the mysterious yet disgusting creature being disassembled before him. With the very thought of doing so being a serious haram, he mentally added few more rakats to his mandatory prayer list.
The speed of the device’s spin, being constant since the beginning, increased when only her head remained in the booth, still wearing its serene visage, eyes focused on their reflection in the mirror. The higher pitch transcended a whine and assumed an electrical buzzing sound, signaling the taking of even thinner submicron slices at an exponentially accelerated rate to accurately capture the content of Suhaila’s mind as it was processed. Her neck, chin, and soft parted lips vanished into the whirling slots of the disk, layer after invisibly subtracted nanometer thick layer. Salim noticed a new stream of tears emerge from the corners of Suhaila’s motionless eyes, dripping down the foreshortened cheeks and spraying into a fine diaphanous mist as they hit the silver surface revolving mere centimeters below. Tears of joy he thought, any lingering doubts he harbored about her conversion being lifted by her spontaneous physical display of welcoming Allah’s imminent gift, Suhaila’s thankful tears of joy.
The eyes themselves finally met and merged into the silvery disk taking a full minute to disappear below the smooth sterling horizon, twin limpid moonsets marking the end of Suhaila’s lifelong night of bodily Jahiliyyah, set to rise again as a finely embroidered mesh eyescreen in the coming dawn of her rebirth as a treasure of Islam, an exquisite feminine Purdah Object. After the eyes and then crown of her head were shaved away and enveloped, finally the last vestiges of her hair, the final remnants of her womanly existence, were drawn away from the world, disappearing into the depths of the machine to join the rest of her as decompiled matter and a stream of digital data. This enrapturing finale finally caused Salim to fall victim to the Pipe Mistresses’ expert ministrations, spasms of intense pleasure racking his body. His consciousness muddied from the exceptional release as the seed forcefully left him and was adroitly caught by the dainty golden gloves that precipitated the explosion, keeping him from messing his thobe and outer robes. Her undertaking successfully completed, the living water pipe rolled toward her wall niche, her gloves retracting back into the large bulb on the pipestem, the captured emission to be metabolized then dissipated along with the rest of the reduced encapsulated servant woman’s biotic wastes.
The electrical buzzing sound ceased, having been caused by the sound of her substance being segmented by the disk’s inscribed dematerializer spokes. Only a quieting decreasing hum remained as the spinning cylinder slowed and retracted back down to the booth floor, revealing a wonderful void in the chamber where Suhaila once was suspended. The glass partition dividing the parlor, the mirror the new Purdah Object witnessed her miracle in was no longer needed and retracted upward into the ceiling. Celebratory traditional music began, piped in over hidden speakers to mark the significant event, an erasure of awrah from the Earth.
“AL HAMDU LILAH WA SHUKRU LILLAH!” The Sheik cried out breaking his stone silence he maintained throughout the event. “Awrah has been eliminated and al-Wahrani honor is restored.”
Salim stood rising from his cushions to stretch, his eyes still on the empty space where Suhaila had been made to vanish to nothingness, his legs unsteady after the taxing spectacle and the ministrations to which he had been subjected. This was an intermission of sorts, an interlude where Suhaila existed only in the memories of the witnesses and the memory banks of Allah’s blessed device, her organic physicality blessedly destroyed. The divinely directed software was fully engaged doing its work in reading and editing the massive load of information it obtained before authoring the pattern to be encoded in Suhaila’s reconstitution. Soon the ceiling of the booth, another silver disk and cylindrical mass like the one comprising the floor would descend, spin up, and as it retracted upward, reveal the new shimmering cloth inanimate Suhaila, building her layer upon molecular layer just as she had been taken apart, only better, weaving her in beautiful Islamic perfection. When this process was complete the Iqdala would return, the new burqa would be draped over it and the supporting undergarments and Suhaila would begin her new life as a proper fabric Divine Emirati Lady of Purdah, with all that had been wrong with her corrected as if it had never been.
There was silence finally in the parlor as the booth finished resetting itself after the dissolution and the recorded celebratory music faded. A computer voice spoke out “Honored Sheik, do you wish to commit your daughter to Allah’s grace in a Namus Covenant?” As Suhaila was unmarried and being converted in what was usually an expensive private parlor, the computer had clearly, and erroneously so Salim thought, assumed she was brought in for a quiet and off the books honor restoring erasure like so many other a wayward girl. The Sheik hesitated a long moment as if pondering the possibility and gave a long unsettling glance at Salim. A chill twinged down his spine as the seconds ticked by. If the Sheik answered “Yes” she would simply cease to exist with no awareness of the act; irretrievably disappearing to oblivion with only Allah remembering her for eternity. “Suhaila” at the moment was nothing but a digitized pattern for the weaving of a pretty burqa, no more conscious or real than an invisible random string of ones and zeroes and no more permanent. Her bodily matter, already converted to energy in preparation for reconstitution as yards of shimmering silver-blue polysilk would simply be dissipated away, gone forever and instantly with but a single word. Finally after an uncomfortable and arduous silence, the Sheik finally answered “No” and Salim’s heart started to beat again. With Namus out of the question and Salim more than a little bewildered by the fact it ever even seemed to be an option, it would only be a few more minutes before Suhaila was restored in her newfound feminine fabric glory. Waiting impatiently to witness this wonder, Salim made his way to the picture window to take in its impressive view and catch his breath.
The entry way door to the parlor opened and in strode a tall figure with an impressive gray beard clad in a black thobe. The man and the Sheik embraced as the stranger offered his obligatory greetings and congratulations on the momentous occasion before they both turned their gaze toward Salim.
“I assume this is him.” the stranger said, a disrespectful edge apparent in his tone as he flipped back the folds of his checkered ghutra.
“Indeed.” replied the Sheik, “Who knew that such an unimpressive little sot could be the cause of so much trouble. Thanks for being able to help with my… problems today on such short notice.”
“No problem my brother, I don’t know how you waited even this long. I myself would probably have killed him on the spot.” the man said laughingly while his gaze hardened.
“Well, In truth he did me a bit of a favor actually. I had long known that Suhaila was a problem child and that I needed to do something to deal with her. Fine, he provided a reason and the motivation and the deed is done. But that aside, to think that an al-Qurtubi would take the generous gift of my daughter’s hand and then have the balls to come to my house and blackmail me over her honor for money really burned me! It burned me and insulted me and the entire Wahrani house!” The Sheik’s visage glowered into Salim’s eyes with undiluted rage as he stepped toward Salim and continued. “So this is how a Qurtubi repays kindness, especially after what we did for all of you during the Great Reckoning? If we hadn’t vouched for the Qurtubis back then, every last one of your goat loving ancestors would have been cut to shreds and packaged off as rubber coated, cum sucking harem slave girls and you wouldn’t even be here, you little shit!” he snapped dismissively and spat at Salim’s feet.
“That does take some balls.” said the bearded man “Lots of audacity, but no common sense, he might have gotten over it someday, but it’s too bad he died in that horrible crash. Such a rare event, but alas, accidents do happen. Who can argue with the will of Allah?”
Salim blinked hard and did a double take, not quite certain of what he just heard though the haze of anger that had been building in his breast under the Sheik’s verbal assault. He didn’t want to hear this, all he wanted was to return to his cushion and watch Suhaila be reconstituted as the article of clothing of his dreams! He sized up the two, the rush of adrenalin leading him to believe he could take both of the older men if it came to it.
“Yes tragic, and with a wedding so soon, I think we shall cancel the caterers.” the Sheik hissed.
Salim’ heart skipped a beat again at the alarming and unexpected tone of the conversation and sudden whole turn of events. Just then, he felt his Link connection cut off, gone before he could send a message and raise any sort of alarm over the Emirates’ ubiquitous wideband mental data network. He had never been without it, and with that realization, a pang of panic welled. Salim’s eyes darted about the room, looking for the exit. His brief search was interrupted by the flash of a beam of white hot energy from outside, brightly cutting across the mountain panorama and splitting the air like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky. Salim glanced out and saw that the light, emanating from the top of one of the soaring minarets, was focused squarely on his transport which with a sizzling crack flared brightly and faded, leaving no trace of it ever having been there. Salim steeled himself and turned toward the men.
“You’ll not get away with this. My young sister knows what Suhaila said, she heard it herself. She will tell and my family will figure out what happened to me and why if I don’t return. They will make you and your descendants and their descendant after them pay with their lives and worse.”
The Sheik unexpectedly laughed out loud then his voice lowered to a menacing growl.
“You mean Miryam? That young sister? The one who just departed the Andalucía Ladies Center folded in a cardboard box as a cheap black abaya, niqab, and glove combo? So proud she was when she was veiled at age 12, so grown up wasn’t she? It’s all she ever wanted to do isn’t it? Swishing about under all those layers like a real lady? Right? Well I’m sure she’s very happy now because she was carted off to the Ladies Center wailing and crying in an undignified scene that makes that stunt Suhaila just pulled look like morning prayers. I hear the remotes had to drag her by her hair into the booth when she found out what she was to become. She didn’t stop pounding on the glass until the conversion took her arms off and she sobbed until she had no mouth. Your filthy weasel of a father got a message right after you left my house last night that an anonymous suitor proposed marriage to his young daughter, but, surprise surprise, wanted her only if she were committed to Silenced Purdah. When he checked his account and saw his new balance and read the specifications the suitor transmitted for her new form, he called the Ladies Center immediately and sent her off. She was an empty pile of flimsy cloth with her personality intentionally wiped, discarded at your own father’s command before your transport was even halfway here. He didn’t even afford her the courtesy to tell her why. So she’s all grown up now, and we all know that a proper lady keeps her secrets don’t we? Especially one with her soul erased. Now I’m quite sure that “suitor” isn’t going to show up to claim her, nor will he even miss the credits that much. Everyone knows a Qurtubi will do anything, even sell a daughter as some common rags for a fuck doll, for money.”
Salim’s heat rose and he felt that this was the moment. He reached to his waist and drew the platinum bladed Janbiya from its sheath on his belt, the first time he had ever pulled the largely ceremonial dagger in anger. He circled the room slowly away from the picture window toward the center of the parlor where he would have more freedom of movement. Stepping over the cushions and around the low scattered stools near where he had been reclining in near bliss only minutes before, he never let his focus stray from the two men as he angled diagonally toward the exit. Calculating how he would strike and who he would like to cut first, Salim saw a hint of movement and felt a presence in his peripheral vision, turned slightly and saw the Pipe Mistress, out of her niche standing next to him with a single golden glove unfurled, bearing an egg sized silver sphere. The glove darted forward, the sphere made brief contact with his temple and Salim’s world went black.
Salim awoke and struggled to his feet, he did not know how long he had been out and still suffered the aftereffect of… whatever that was. His vision was blurred, all he could see was a vague fuzzy white outline of a figure standing before him, out of focus. He steadied himself, blinked and breathed deeply and closed his eyes tightly while he shook his head to try and clear the fog. Reopening his eyes his vision was clear if not his awareness, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing before him was a bluish silver shimmering satin burqa trimmed with exquisite white lace, its shape flowing in a pleasing arc from the top of its folded draping headpiece on down to the wide floor length hem which spanned over two meters wide across its bottom in a wide billowing circular ruffle. The burqa took a step forward, the soft fabric and fulsome volume moving and rustling gently in such a way that suggested many more layers supporting her from underneath. He looked toward the face and saw her classic elongated hexagon eyescreen in white with the sight of the delicate decorative embroidered heart set below sending a shiver of joy up his spine. The finely stitched octagon weave of her screen was so tight and perfect that no hint of what lay behind the mesh’s myriad tiny holes, which Salim knew was nothing but a black chiffon fabric underlining and the featureless plastic bulb of the Iqdala’s head form, just as it was supposed to be. That face, a gorgeous and expressionless needlework tracery gazing blankly straight ahead toward him, the very essence of feminine perfection and submission to Allah’s ways, had been the image he carried in his heart ever since he was a boy and it shaped his beliefs and motivated him to be the devout believing man he was today. He reached up to touch it, longing to finally feel its beautiful silken softness against his skin but was thwarted when his hand fell upon a transparent barrier of cold hard glass.
“Suhaila.” a hoarse whisper escaped his lips, and the shimmering burqa’s sleek blue-white long glove sleeve rose up to the window, the soft satin palm pressing against the clear divider, mirroring his hand for a brief moment before she dropped it and stepped back away from the glass.
“Suhaila, you still have time to walk some of the central court labyrinth before the crowds arrive to praise Allah for your generous gift.” Her father’s voice called out from beyond where Salim could see.
The burqa gave a gentle bow of her headpiece and then a deep curtsy toward the voice as the Iqdala acknowledged the receipt of the male issued command and before turning back to face Salim. One of her sensuous gloves rose up to Suhaila’s embroidered fabric face and traced the shape of her eyescreen with a cloth index finger and then the tapered satin appendage gracefully pointed at him through the glass. He didn’t comprehend the gesture as the glove returned to her side and she stood for a moment impassively gazing upon him.
New Suhaila Revealed
The hidden Iqdala then turned her and walked Suhaila away with feline finesse, the rustle and swish of multiple layers of fabric and the click of the white high heeled boots clearly audible but fading fast as she turned the corner out of his narrow line of sight. Such a compelling vision she was that her beauty banished the remaining mists from his mind and her departing gesture suddenly became all too dreadfully clear.
Salim, naked and alone, stumbled back from the gold framed glass and fell to his knees in the center of the wide silver circle. He did not even try to resist as the machine froze him and the floor below began to spin.