Version for “Tales of the Veils” website.
Not for reproduction on other websites or in any other publishing format without author’s permission.
my name is Chantalle, I live with my friend Susie in a nice 3 room attic apartment in Düsseldorf. At the moment I am working at the weekends as a waitress in the ‚Altstadt‘. On weekdays I study German, English and Arabic for teaching. Susie works more or less as a car expert in her father’s business. We have been endowed by our Lord God with extremely pretty bodies and quick minds. We both belong to the category of crazy noodles, are constantly on the move and are sleeping at night for an unfortunately inevitable fate.
And what really connects us is our clothes fetish. Long, wide, slightly transparent dresses, without panties. It’s a treat when the air sweeps over our freshly shaven pussies. We are both heterosexual, but we lack a male society. We like to give it ourselves – with a lot of fun.
On a sunny, slightly windy June afternoon, we sat on the patio with Toni, licking ice cream and watching the action on the street. The wind played with the hem of our clothes, he lifted and lowered it and coquettishly we kept him from revealing everything. A public promise to the men’s world and an intoxicating fantasy of helplessness for us.
A table next to us there sat young Arab-looking businessmen. Apparently we caught their attention. At least one particularly nice specimen fixed me. He was the type one: ,I could sink into his eyes’ and it caught me full. I returned a shy smile and in the end we exchanged names and addresses and had a date for the evening and Susie with his brother. His name was Achmed and his brother’s name was Mahmud, they studied in Cologne and often went to work in their father’s company in Düsseldorf.
On time at 20:00 clock we were picked up by our new admirers in a taxi. We dined and drank in one of the hottest restaurants, the artichoke. Achmed and I quickly approached each other. At first I thought it would be because of my Arabic knowledge, but when Susie and I went powdering our noses I saw in the mirror a red face with excitement. “Well, you got it pretty hard?” Susie said with a smug grin. “Shit, yes! I am delivered. The guy take me. I have never felt so strongly attracted to a man. “” Take care or you do end up in his harem! “Susie laughed. “Thanks, the butterflies are doing flying exercises in my stomach and you’re so crapy.” “Sorry, I was stupid, Islamophobia was definitely not going to infect me, Finally, Mahmud is damn cool, too. ” ” Come on, let’s have fun!”
And it was a wonderful and unforgettable evening for both of us. I made an appointment with Achmed for the next evening, dressed casually, to stroll and chat with him alone on the Rhine.
At night Susie and I sat and chatted, after our cavaliers had delivered us well at home. “I’ll see Achmed again tomorrow, how are you?” I asked. “Mahmud is rich and said he would like to spoil me and I think for a while we could stand it – a student affair. It’s more with you, “she said. “I’m totally in the wind, my emotions are riding a rollercoaster and that scares me. My helplessness excites me and the idea of being with him is overwhelming. I want to belong to him with my skin and hair. “” Come down, dear! Our games with submission and our fetish should be just fun, bring a little spice in everyday life. I suggest you finish this adventure before you can‘t get out of there. ” “Maybe you’re right, Susie. I am tired and am going to sleep. Good night, dear. ” “You too,” Susie said.
“Good morning, you beautiful! Did you sleep well? I’m looking forward to tonight and to you. Achmed” I read on my smartphone. I crouched in my sheets and was blessed. Going to university was pointless, because I could only think of Achmed. The whole day was a single catastrophe, a typical ,fresh-loving day‘. I did not get anything baked and when it was finally evening and Ahmmed stood in the door we fell into each other’s arms, never to let go again. “Do we want to go?” He asked. “Whatever you want, dearest,” I exclaimed, and immediately followed him to the taxi. We strolled arm in arm on the banks of the Rhine, we did not speak because we were enough for ourselves. We got an ice cream on our hands, drove boats and enjoyed each other. A bank invited us to rest. We sat down and he said softly, “I know, you feel like me. We love each other, we belong together and that’s why I have to leave you.” “My God! Why? I love you about everything!” „That’s why yes! I can not dishonor you, I love you too much,” he said. I was totally confused: he loves me, does not want to dishonor me and has to leave me, what’s the point? “I see, I have to explain myself. So I am a devout Muslim and may as such have illegitimate sex with an unbeliever and I can not do that to you,“ he said. “I didn‘t understand anything, you may, but do not want. Am I not attractive enough to you, or what’s going on? “I was desperate. “I want to sleep with you, but with you as a Muslim wife.” “I … you mean I should become a Muslim?” I stammered. “Not only, you have to dress like that, in fact, you have to give up all your life so far, and you can not, and I want no compulsion between us.“ “Please take me home. I have to digest what you said now.” I could not hold myself back at the door. With tears in my eyes, I said to him, “I love you, please do not reject me. Show me what I have to do as your wife.”
I ran into the house and cried in my pillow until Susie came to me. “Honey, what’s up? Do you have quarrels?” “If that’s just it, but it’s much worse. I have to marry him!” And I explained everything to her. Thereupon she declared: “Being a European woman to live a strictly Islamic life is certainly no picnic, he does not want to do that to you. Let him go if you love him.” “But if I fulfill all the requirements, I can be with him.” “Dear,” she said. “He wants you to be happy and he believes that living as a Muslim makes you unhappy.” She gently stroked my head and left me alone in my grief. I got my laptop and researched Islam. Read Quran translations and looked up at ‘YouTube’ Muslim women and their clothes. He said he was a devout believer So I ordered the complete assortment for my concealment. Then I quit my waitress job because, now I have to be only veiled in the public and allowed in the company of a male relative. Also, I did not go to university, but stayed the next two days until the arrival of the veil in my apartment, in which I was closed with blinds no longer visible to anyone. I studied the Koran and my knowledge of Arabic helped me a lot and I tried five times a day in prayer. Then came my ordered clothes. I undressed and put on a long-sleeved shirt with a stand-up collar reaching down to the floor, then wrapped my hair in a cloth until not a single hair was visible. Long black stockings and black shoes hid my feet. I pulled on a big cloth with a hole in the middle. It covered my whole body. It reached the front to the knees and back almost to the ground. Through the hole you could only see a small triangle of mine: eyes, nose and mouth. Then I attached a three-ply face veil behind my head. The individual veil layers allowed a limited field of vision in the first one and one could see through a coarse grid, the second one then turned everything into a colorless gray, with the third I was almost blind, I could only guess silhouettes. Now all that was missing were the shiny black gloves and I was completely gone for my environment. I was now a faceless cube my identity was no longer detectable. Then I took my smartphone and asked Achmed to come and pick up his wife.
I ignored all attempts by Achmed to reach me via smartphone. Susie, who saw me like this, I answered no question, I was silent, I told her only by smartphone, that I am waiting for my Lord. So she left it and opened Achmed, who arrived soon. “What’s happening? Should I pick up my wife?” He asked Susie at the door. “I do not know what you did to Chantalle. But see for yourself.” And she led him to me. Frozen in shock, he stood in the doorway. As he got his bearings, he asked, “What’s the Masquerade, you’re not a Muslim.” In his and Susie’s presence, I spoke the Shahada and agreed to follow and obey him as his wife and as a strict believing Muslim to serve him. He said, “You converted and made a binding marriage vow. Now there is no going back for you and I have to marry you at my and your own honor. “How?” Susie said to me. “Now would you please take off this ugly fumble and get back to normal.” She received no answer from me, only silence. Then it dawned on Achmed: “You may speak, my bride!” “The bride thanks her future master, she will now answer Susie’s questions.” “Chantalle, do you still have them all? What does all this mean?” “I call myself Selima today, please respect that. I had to choose between a life as a free European without Achmed or as a submissive, obedient woman with Achmed. I submit to him because I love and trust him. Allah will guide and protect me, and I will lead a pleasing life,” I told her. “And what does it mean concrete now?” She asked. “That, if my parents agree, she will become my wife and I will have to hand her over to my parents immediately. They will determine what will happens to us.” He came to me and held my right arm and led me outside, where we waited for the taxi. “Chantalle, I implore you, you can not just leave me alone,” Susie wailed. “She has no choice, she is bound by her oath before Allah. But just come with us and see for yourself how carefully she is looked after by my parents, “Achmed offered. “Wait for me, I’ll just get my stuff quickly,” she replied and ran back quickly. The taxi came and silently we drove to his parents’ house. When we entered the house Susie and I should wait in the vestibule. It took half an hour, then we were asked to come in. His father and his mother, she also deeply veiled, were waiting for us in a large and luxurious living room. Achmed briefly introduced Susie as my friend and led me, blind as I was to his father, who held his hand so close to my face until I could see it. I kissed it through my veil and held his hand to my forehead. I did the same with his mother. Then I had to sit behind his mother on a pillow. “My parents accept you and you should stay in the care of my mother until my parents allow us to marry. My mother will teach you to become a good Muslim wife. You Susie can visit her whenever you want.“ Since I can not see Achmed until our wedding, he left us and took Susie.
And for me began a new phase of life. I was completely shielded from the outside world, only I had to make various signatures at the notary to dissolve my accounts and my household. His mother Hassina held her strict but also loving hand over me. I lost my capacity for decision-making in everything, I had to fulfill the religious and domestic duties exactly as Hassina demanded. So I learned the suras of the Koran, performed my daily prayers and learned to run a household conscientiously. My day started at 5:00 and ended at 20:00. 23 hours of the day I was completely veiled, I slept even veiled. I always wore the first layer of the niqab in front of my face. In the presence of Ali, that’s the name of Achmed’s father the second . If there were other men, all three.
Susie was probably completely overwhelmed with the situation, because she did not let herself be seen. Until after two weeks she appeared in the company of Mahmud and we hugged each other in our arms. Mahmud left us alone and as we sat down, I picked up two layers of niqab to look at Susie. She was dressed in the same way as me except for the veil. I wrote on my chalkboard because speaking could offend a man in the house, “Why are you wearing Muslim clothes?” So she told me how she had been lately. “When you were no longer there, it was only half as much fun as with you. I locked myself in and did not want to see anyone. Mahmud tried to reach me several times, but I did not call back. He was stubborn and caught me as I walked to Papa’s company. I needed someone and he was there. Our conversations were only about you, but soon we found common ground with us and believe me, I certainly did not want to fall in love with him, but it happened then.” “That means we can be like sisters together?” I wrote. “That’s the point, I do not know if I could live like you. I’m scared to give myself completely to a man and be forever separate from the world, mute and deeply veiled.” “If you want Mahmud, you have to do it,” I wrote, and how gladly I would like to speak now, to be allowed to lead her from my happiness to a peaceful and devoted life in Islam. But one thing I wanted to write to her then: “By Allah, I still do not wear panties!” She read it and we had to laugh. “If so, why am I worrying? I’m getting on the boat! Inshallah!”
And so it came, as it had to come. She also converted and she became engaged to him, and six months later there was a double wedding. We do not regret anything. It also has the advantages of being a Muslim wife, at least with our great men. And only our husbands know about our little fetish: