by Dave Potter
“Please, Mrs. Walker, you must understand my point of view here.”
Inwardly, the headteacher sighed. She’d known beforehand that this meeting would be a difficult one and so it was proving.
“Mr. Sadiq, I do understand your point of view, but I cannot accept making a change to the school rules and regulations to accommodate it. We are a Church school and so have to obey their rules. We earlier had your objections to Aminah not being allowed to wear the faceveil on school premises and I explained then. Uniform is uniform. And so with this. St. Margaret’s has a policy, a policy that has served us well over many decades, that in classes students do not choose whom they sit next to, but instead it is dictated by the class teacher. If I made an exception for your daughter, I should have start making exceptions for everybody. It would set a precedent.”
“But I do not mind that she sits with another student, only that it is not a boy!”
“But the school policy states, as I have reiterated several times already, that students sit girl-boy in rows. We have found that this approach creates harmony in the classroom and improves the results of both sexes. And besides, Simon Brampton is a fine boy; he studies hard and has an excellent behaviour record…”
“I do not doubt that, Mrs. Walker, but this Simon, he is still a boy and my religion states that boys and girls should not be sitting together as this causes fitna… I mean, excitement and temptation to be sexually inappropriate…”
“Mr. Sadiq, they are both twelve years old. I hardly think that is foremost in their minds at the moment!”
“Not now, but later! I really must insist…”
“No, Mr. Sadiq, it is I who must insist! These are the rules, take them or leave them! If your faith does not allow you to acquiesce to your daughter sitting next to a boy, then remove her from this establishment and send her to the Islamic Free School in Chapelwood! We would be most sorry to see her go, she is a charming girl and an excellent student, a credit to both you and Mrs. Sadiq, but rules are rules. We have selected Simon carefully as he is the only other student in the year close to Aminah in terms of ability and work rate; they will benefit from one another academically which is, at the end of the day, what we all want, is it not? So, Mr. Sadiq, which is it to be: Simon Brampton or removal from the school…?”
Six years later…
Simon Brampton gasped for breath after he removed his face from that of his girlfriend. She too was breathing heavily after their session of French kissing. Her eyes darted from left to right, furtive, anxious. “No one saw us,” she whispered.
“Of course not darling, and what if they did?” he replied smiling. He was so happy, the happiest he had ever been.
Aminah Sadiq smiled. She was happy too. Ecstatically so. After sitting together in class for so many years, she and Simon knew each other inside out even though he had never seen more of her than the oval of her face and her uncovered hands. And then, last week, they had finally been brave enough to make their feelings known to one another and entered into a relationship. Well, if stolen kisses in a cupboard off the main corridor in St. Margaret’s could be called a relationship. But they had told no one else. If the Muslim boys ever found out and it got back home…
“You know the dangers, Si, it’s just not worth it!”
“But I love you so why shouldn’t we tell the world about it? We are like how gay people used to be, lying and hiding everything, yet, like them, we have done nothing wrong. Why can’t we be free and honest?”
“You know why, Si.”
“All I long for is what our friends have. For you to come over to mine, or we go to the cinema or bowling after school, or me to pop across to yours or…”
“Shhh, you know we can’t… normally. However, I was thinking; their might be a way. It would be extremely risky and would require you to do something pretty outrageous, but I reckon it could work.”
Si stared at the ceiling and wondered. What Aminah had described to him, what he would be doing was so audacious, so extreme. It was ridiculous and yet it also excited him. The danger excited him (what if they were found out…?) but also something else. When his girlfriend (back then only the girl that he spent every day sitting alongside) had first described her life outside of school to him, he had been gobsmacked. “It is called purdah,” she had explained, “and I have lived in that way ever since puberty. It means wearing the veil of course, but far more than that. Outside of school I cannot leave the house except when accompanied by my father or brother, nor too do I speak except when in the company of women only and only then in whispers so that we do not excite men sexually. And we never show any skin, not even an inch! Our hands are gloved and our eyes are veiled too. Of course, dad would prefer it if I could dress like that in school, but the rules don’t allow it and he wants me to attend St. Margaret’s as they get the best results. Do you know what, I do not know what my mother looks like, nor Aunt Zoya.”
“Who is Aunt Zoya?”
“Oh, she is my father’s second wife.”
“What? He divorced your mum?”
“Oh no, he is married to them both. Our religion allows it. He could take two more wives if he liked though I doubt he wants to; the two he’s got cause him enough headaches he says. He married mum first; she converted to Islam at university and they met there. She adopted purdah straight after marriage and a year later I was born. And five years ago he married Zoya. She’s really nice, only six years older than me. She came from Pakistan, from the same village as my grandparents.”
What? Two wives, veiled and silent all day, not leaving the house except accompanied by your dad! What sort of life was that?
‘One that you will be living, Simon,’ he told himself.
For that was Aminah’s idea. She would tell her family that Lucy – their friend in the science class and the only other person who knew about their love for each other – would be coming over and that she would veil as Aminah did out of respect for their way of life. Lucy’s parents would confirm this but in fact, under those veils would be him, Simon Brampton and not Lucy Armitage at all! He would sneak into the inner sanctum of his beloved. So dangerous yet so exciting and, in a weird and fucked up way, kind of hot too. He imagined living a life so hidden and controlled and it made his member hard and strain against his pants. There was only one thing for it; his hand moved down there and started milking it slowly, pumping up and down whilst thoughts of being covered in black cloth and sitting next to his darling filled his head.
After lessons had finished that afternoon, both Aminah and Simon hung back in their maths class, supposedly to ask their teacher some questions about the algebra that they’d been doing that day. However, the real reason was to wait until the crowds dispersed because then they both went out of the classroom, down the corridor and, checking that no one was about, into the disabled toilet. In there, they locked the door and shared a passionate kiss before Aminah reached into her bag and pulled out a pile of black cloth.
Simon then stripped to his underwear (something which both excited and humoured Aminah at the same time) and then started putting on the garments. First up there was a pair of black cotton trousers that fastened with ties at both ankles and the waist. They were accompanied by a long, loose black blouse. Simon was about to tie the cuffs but Aminah stopped him and handed him a pair of black cotton gloves to put on first. Then the blouse was fastened and a stretchy piece of cloth fitted over his head so that it framed his face. Aminah called it a snood. Then came a long loose dress in plain black satin which Aminah called an abayah and then the item that he had been most anticipating: the veil or niqab as Aminah termed it. This came in three layers and was tied by his girlfriend at the back of his head. With all three layers down he was virtually blind, but as she lifted the outer two, his vision became clearer until with only one down – which had a slit in it covered with a thin gauze – it was only slightly blurred.
After she had fitted this, Aminah then tended to her own clothes and while she did, Simon tested his new outfit out. It was certainly hot in there and he imagined that those trailing skirts may prove difficult when descending or ascending stairs, but at the same time it was nice how it brushed and swirled all around him and, for a split second, he was almost envious of his girlfriend. But then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and gave a start of surprise for, covered so completely, he was indistinguishable from her!
Aminah had now finished dressing herself and he was about to unlock the door when she stopped him. “We’re not finished yet,” she said, flipping back his veils and then attending to her own. She then handed him a strange piece of moulded plastic. “You know I said that we stay silent as much as possible to avoid tempting men; well, when we do need to speak, we can do so softly through this. It distorts the voice so that it does not sound feminine and alluring. Normally I don’t put mine in until I reach home – I find it annoying – but today we’ll both be wearing them from now on; it could save you from being discovered.”
Si looked at the thing with curiosity. “It fits in your mouth over the teeth,” she explained, putting hers in. “See!” she said. Simon was shocked. Her voice now sounded distorted, robotic, inhuman. After some fiddling, he did the same. “Is that right?” he asked. She nodded for he too now sounded like an extra off Star Wars.
“And now this,” said the Stormtrooper Aminah. She handed him a long cloak with a face opening and then helped him fit it over his head till the satin-like slippery material cascaded down him, all the way to the knees. She pulled his veils through but only flipped the outer one up so that his vision was now blurred. “It’s called a khimar,” she robotically explained before fitting her own. Then, dressing completed, she let a gloved hand slip out from under the khimar, unlocked the door and opened it.
Walking down the corridor, Simon found himself unaccountably excited and on edge. Maybe it was because he was in disguise, possibly because his love was at his side but perhaps also because of the slippery material caressing him with every step. He was wary too of his much-reduced vision and when they descended the stairs to the entrance hall he went very carefully, holding up his garments so that he didn’t trip on them. At the bottom Aminah took his gloved hand in hers and squeezed it. They passed a couple of teachers who said nothing and then walked outside.
Waiting for them was a man. A bearded Asian man. “Is that you, Aminah?” he asked. She simply nodded. “And this must be Lucy, right?” Si nodded too. “Salam aleikum, Lucy, I am Safdar, Aminah’s father.” He did not attempt to shake hands but Aminah had warned him that men do not shake hands with unrelated women in their culture. Instead though he flipped the outer veils of both “girls” down and then guided the now blind couple by placing his hand softly on their shoulders.
Walking without sight was a new and unnerving experience for Si but it was not for long as, after only a short distance, he was guided into a car. Then came a short journey in darkness before the vehicle stopped, the door was opened and a hand on his shoulder indicated he should climb out. That done the outer veil was flipped back and Si found himself in a large garage standing beside the smart 4×4 that he had seen Aminah arrive in many times. “We are in the house now so you may flip back that outer veil though no more,” said Safdar, before then leading them through a door into the house and a large sitting room.
Waiting for us there were two figures veiled just as we were. They gestured for us to sit next to them on a rug on the floor and Safdar left. Then one spoke with a robotic voice, “Salam aleikum Lucy, my name is Khadijah and I am Aminah’s mum. I am so glad to have you here.”
“And I am Zoya, Khadijah’s co-wife,” said the other black robot.
They sat and talked, Si keeping his words as quiet as possible as Aminah had advised him to. He wanted to say so much more; this lifestyle where women are covered 24/7, confined to the house and more than one marries the same guy fascinated him but he knew that he had to be careful.
After about an hour, Zoya made her excuses and got up. Sometime later she returned carrying some food, only sandwiches but welcome to Simon who was by this time ravished. “I made sandwiches because I’m guessing that eating veiled will be hard for you,” said Zoya. “If you come again and get more accomplished, we will cook you some of our specialities!”
Si was glad of her thoughtfulness. Trembling, he copied Aminah in removing his mouthpiece and then carefully threading the sandwiches under his veils, trying not to make a sound. He managed well enough, though dropped plenty of crumbs and feared how he might have fared had she made curry or stew. He drank some water to wash it down and then, following the others, replaced his mouthpiece.
“And now,” said Khadijah, “I have a little surprise for you: our family gets ready for bed at this time. I have spoken with your mum, Lucy, and she has agreed for you to sleepover. But we have unusual sleeping attire so I shall have to help you undress and get ready for bed, after which you can relax in Aminah’s room with her. Let us go!”
Sleepover! Get ready for bed! Now? But how could he? He would be discovered! Si glanced across at Aminah but her thick coverings revealed nothing. When his real identity was unveiled – literally! – then what punishment would be in store for both of them?
“Come with me, Lucy,” said her mother, standing up; “I shall help you get ready.”
“No, no, sister, you have done enough, getting the food prepared. You relax. I shall help our guest,” said Zoya. And then she took Simon’s gloved hand and led the way. So,heI was to be discovered by the second wife rather than the first, but what difference would it make to either him or his dear Aminah? Their relationship was over, that much was for sure.
She led him into the bathroom. “Start getting undressed, Lucy,” she said; “I must get some things.”
She disappeared again and, unable to think of any better plan, Si just stood there and waited. In a minute she returned carrying a pile of clothes.
“You did not get undressed?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“You do not wish to? Maybe you feel uncomfortable doing so in front of me?” she asked approaching me.
“That is understandable,” she said softly, “considering this…” And with those words a gloved hand shot out from under her khimar and went straight for his crotch, grabbing his rock-hard cock through the layers of cloth. Zoya moved her veiled head next to Si’s and whispered, “Whatever your name is, it is not ‘Lucy’, am I right?”
“Do not tell, please!” he pleaded.
She stroked his member through the layers. “If I’d wanted to tell, I would have done so hours ago. I clocked the moment that you walked through the door; a sixth sense perhaps.”
“And you don’t mind?”
“I am not Khadijah. She is a convert and they always come with added zeal and blinkers. I however, have a different story. I came to this country and married Safdar to escape poverty in Pakistan. But it has come at a cost to my freedom. Like Aminah I was once a teenager and in love. No, I will not rat on you. However, you must obey me unquestioningly.”
“Good. Now undress!”
This time he obeyed her instructions and within a couple of minutes Si was standing naked before her, his rampant cock standing proud like a ship’s mast. She stroked it with her gloved hand until he was on the brink and then she, teasingly, withdrew that hand. “That would not be right; Aminah is the object of your desires, not Zoya,” she said.
At that moment though, anyone could have brought him to climax!
“It is strange,” she mused, looking at me from behind her coverings. “I can see all of you yet to you I am a mystery and I always shall be. Lie down!”
Puzzled, Si did as she said. She produced a pair of adult nappies. “What?” he asked.
“We wear some very particular nightgowns in this house and with them on, going to the toilet in the night is not possible. These are to prevent accidents. Let me fit them properly.”
She fitted the nappies as one might a baby and then ordered him to stand. She produced a pair of baggy rubber pants which she fitted over the nappies to seal them in.
After this, he was given his pair of shoulder length black satin gloves to put back on and afterwards a pair of black satin socks.
Then came the nightgown.
Zoya had been correct when she had described this garment as “very particular”. It was made out of turquoise satin and covered the entire body from the neck to the feet. As she fitted it over his head and let it fall around me, the smooth, silky material caressed and excited Simon immensely although, covered with both the nappies and the rubber pants, his erection no longer showed.
“It feels good, doesn’t it?” said Zoya, giving his much-covered bottom a playful slap with her gloved hand.
The nightgown had butterfly sleeves which were elasticated at the end. He poked his gloved hands through them. No skin was now visible below his head.
Over that head she now pulled a sort of hood that was hanging down on my chest. She pulled it over the entire head and then zipped it up at the back, then clicking a small padlock over the zip. Si was trapped inside and his body covered completely! The hood (or “head bag” as she called it) had a small grille like that of a burqa which he could see and breathe through although it soon heated up in there. Then, over the head bag she pulled a second hood which was hanging on my back and which framed the first, hiding the zip.
“You are now ready to go out and relax in the bedroom,” said Zoya. “Be careful to speak only in whispers otherwise someone passing the room may overhear and they will realise that you’re a man.”
“Thank you so much,” he said to her, meaning it.
“And I must thank you,” she replied.
“In this household we even have sex covered and blinded. That is the first time that I have ever seen a man unclothed. It’s an interesting sight. I shall try to use it to stimulate my imagination when Safdar is inside me tonight.”
Inside Aminah’s bedroom, she too was dressed in a nightgown veil complete with head bag and hood. She stood up and twirled around. “I look like a Jedi Knight don’t you think?” she whispered. Simon just went up to her and hugged her. His member grew rock hard and he was overcome with desire but separated by both the satin and the nappies, there was no relief; the nearest that they got to contact was kissing through the head bag grilles.
After a few seconds, Aminah freed herself. “The door is unlocked,” she whispered and if we are found, there could be trouble. Let us play instead!”
She got out a PS4 and they spent some time shooting monsters and negotiating ancient temples filled with treasure. Simon loved gaming but trying to see through the grille and wearing slippery gloves made it much harder so, after some time, he suggested they try something else. Aminah wanted to look through their geography homework, but Si found it hard to read through the grille so instead they put a music station on the TV and chatted – or at least whispered – to one another about people at school, how the night had gone and how much they loved one another. He told her all about Zoya and she was shocked but then happy. “I love Aunty Zoya to bits,” she confessed; “she’s so much more chilled out than mum. I think purdah living is as hard for her as it is for me but she does it for her family and spiritual well-being.”
Soon afterwards, at around nine, Khadijah’s mum entered the room, also wearing a nightgown. “Ok girls, time for bed,” she said. Confused, Si let her lead him to the bed. She lay him down and then went to the bottom of the gown and zipped it shut. He was now totally enclosed by the garment!
Then she produced a pair of gloves to go over the ones that he already wore. These gloves however, were more like padded balls. He put his hands in them and found they only fitted if his hands were bunched into fists. These were then fastened tightly at the wrists and locked with tiny padlocks and Si realised he was now trapped inside the gown with no prospect of removing it himself. With gloved hands he could have unzipped it and removed it but now he was totally helpless! Finally, she took the hood, which Si had already thought was rather large, and pulled it down over the head bag completely, fastening it at his throat. He was now totally blinded, encased and helpless! He heard her do the same with Aminah and whisper, “Night girls!” before kissing each one on their covered head and withdrawing.
That night was both the most wonderful and the most excruciating of Simon’s young life. He spent the night in the arms of his beloved, curled up together, whispering sweet-nothings in each other’s ears. He ran his hands all over her beautiful body and yet, covered as they both were and encased in padded mittens as his hands were, he could feel little. His cock stood proud through, but encased in the nappies, he could do nothing to relieve the pressure. And so instead he just lay there, sweating, his mind in overdrive, for hours after Aminah’s breathing deepened.
That morning Si was woken by Khadijah who guided him to the bathroom, removed his mittens and then left him so that he could dress in veils again.
After breakfast he was returned to Lucy’s house, her (extremely liberal) parents both excited about being involved in the whole charade.
Five years later Aminah got married. She had an enormous wedding with hundreds of guests and was the star of the show wearing an elaborate embroidered white dress with veils that both concealed her and blinded her when she was joined together with Rashid, the man who had approached her father for her hand a year before and whom she had demurely accepted. As her new husband led her through the packed hall to their wedding bed in the hotel, she cast her mind back to her old high school boyfriend who used to come to her house veiled and pretending to be Lucy who was today in the crowd at her nuptials.
Lucy visited and slept over many times after that first night. That continued until both she and Simon passed their A-levels with flying colours and got accepted into Cambridge University where they both studied Micro-Biology.
At university she was allowed to wear her veil and went to live with an aunt who lived a few miles away. She never had a boyfriend nor spent a night away from her strict aunt’s house, but her old schoolfriend, Lucy (who was also at Cambridge) came to visit regularly.
And when her father broached the idea of marriage, she joined a Muslim matching site and found Rashid, a White British convert, who was looking for a wife who lived in strict purdah. She showed his profile to Safdar and Khadijah who were initially dubious about him being new to the faith, but then she reminded them of their own marriage and pointed out that none of the other candidates were happy about the ultra-strict way in which they lived their lives and so accepted.
Guiding his new wife to their wedding bed, Rashid, formerly Simon, was excited beyond belief. Despite sleeping by her side hundreds of times over the past five years, he had never touched her skin, nor even seen her face since they both graduated from high school. Tonight though, all that would change and, he suspected for them both, this sleepover won’t have much sleeping!