I want to share this experience with you. This isn't fiction it
it a true event, something that many may think odd, but many i think
will also be able to identify with.
We all have dreams and fantasies, some we never share, some we do,
most don't come true, but every now and then we just happen to mention
something and a way is found to make it take place.
i have had a fascination with Orientalism for several years now, and
one aspect of that interest has been with belly dancing, eastern
cultures and ways of dressing.
When on holiday in Tunisia i would sit
and watch the islamic women in their black full length coverings,
going about their day to day lives. For two weeks i found myself
studying the way they wore their clothing, how they moved, how they
intereacted with others, and how they were treated in public. They
fascinated me completely. I had a limited knowledge of Islam and
the way the Koran influenced the way women behaved and treated,
but this was really my first time of seeing it for myself.
While laying on the beach in the sun, dressed in very little
compared to my Islamic counterparts i found myself actually feeling
jealous of them. It confused me, as i seemed to have so much
compared to them, so why should i be feeling this way?
It came to me then that here was i a western woman. Outwardly i didn't
look like a slave, yet i was Owned by Master, His collar was around
my neck. Yet, it wasn't obvious to the rest of the world just what
my gold chain signified. To them i was just another tourist, another
female. Yet these Islamic women by their clothes were being treated
as i wanted the world to perceive me, and treat me.
Clothed from head to foot in black, no frills and flounces, nothing
to detract from the plainess, the uniform black that they all wore.
All had head coverings, and veils, some had eyes covered completely,
some a brief opening so you could see their downcast eyes. They were
not approached or talked to by strangers, and while out and about
were mostly with at least one other female. Those who were with
men, presumably husbands, generally walked slightly behind their men
and when in the market, the women were never spoken to directly.
Everyone defered to the man they were with. It dawned on me that
these women must be so free underneath their purdah. Free to be
themselves. No-one paid them much attention, they had their place
in their society and were accepted for what they were. That was what
i was so jealous of.
For several years i kept these thoughts to myself until one day in
conversation with my then Master it came out how i felt about all
of this. He knew exactly where i was coming from, and understood
completely the acceptance that being dressed in purda would mean
to me. i bought the black cotton material, found a pattern to
make the abaya (the traditional longsleeved full-length
dress) and set to work.
Unfortunatley the fantasy was never realised with that Master,
but my next Master shared my fascination and together we talked
about it and decided to go ahead with it. I had ordered a hijab
(a head covering) and a burqa (a veil) and eagerly awaited its
arrival.
With my outfit now complete i tried it on altogether. I couldn't
believe the feelings of pure submission i felt. I know just wearing
an outfit didn't make me a different person on the outside, but
inside it most certainly did.
Master too was very suprised i think firstly with the way i looked
and secondly the way my whole demeanor changed almost instantaneously.
Luckily i am dark haired, and eyed and they eyes that stared back
at me from the mirror looked completely natural that i hardly recognised
myself.
The first outing was to a busy town. Luckily Master was tall, dark and
dressed in a suit looked as much the part as i did. i was very nervous but
very excited too. Master had decided that the first outing would be a
simple shopping expedition, and that although i would be completely naked
underneath my eastern dress, i could wear slip on open flat sandals to
complete my outfit.
He parked the car and we started to walk into the main shopping area. I was
concerned that someone may try and talk to us in Arabic, or realise that
i wasn't genuine, which all added to my heightened state of excitment. I
followed him a pace behind, my eyes lowered, and slowly started to relax
as i realised that no-one was paying any attention.
He had decided He was going to buy a pair of shoes, so we went into
a busy shoe shop. He pointed out the pair he wished to try on and the
shop assistant brought them for Him. He looked at me and i realised He
wanted me to kneel at His feet and help Him try them on. i must admit
i was cursing Him as this wasn't the way He had told me it was going
to happen! But the shop assistant and no-one else in the shop for that
matter seemed to be at all bothered as i knelt down, unfastened his
laces, slipped his shoes off, and replaced them with the new ones
proffered to me by the assistant, who i noticed didn't even try to
make eye contact with me. I found it incredibly hard to not lovingly
kiss his feet as i slipped the new shoes onto them.
He smiled, stood up, left me kneeling on the floor while He walked up
and down the shop trying the new shoes out. Kneeling on the floor i
was filled with such emotion, i was fighting back tears. At last i was
being accepted by someone outside of our relationship and the scene,
the general public, for what i was.
At the till, the assistant made no attempt to talk to me. I carried no
bag, no purse, no money or keys, and wore no watch. I was totally dependent
on Master. He held out the carrier bag with the shoes in for me to carry,
and it gave me such a rush of pure pleasure to do that for Him. We went back
to the car, still not a word spoken from the time we had left the car
originally to go shopping. To be honest i am not sure i could have
spoken if i had tried, but to do so would have spoiled that bond we had
formed. There was no need for words, gestures, a raised eyebrow, a smile,
a touch on the arm, told me all i needed to know.
In the space of an hour we had both found acceptance by the general public
at a level otherwise unknown. The purdah had set me free, underneath i was
dressed as a slave, how i am normally kept in private. Master was accepted
as being in charge, and no-one even tried to talk to me or defer to me as
they would have normally done in everyday situations.
That was the first of several such outings. Each one varied slighlty. Now
we are both a lot more confident, and although always naked, often i am
chained, gagged and clamped under my purdah, and no-one apart from me and
Master know. However each time we have met with the same unquestioning
acceptance, and respect for Master, while i am accepted as His property.
For the first time in my life, while dressed in purdah, i feel society
is accepting my freedom to serve a man, and is allowing me without
condemantion the right to behave like His, and the slave that i am.
Aplogies to anyone who finds this article offensive for religious or
ethical reasons.
©tiana 2nd December 2000
©tiana 2000-2005
