Submission Part 2 free porn video

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Submission Part 2: So, you have listened as I have told you about my affluent WASP upbringing and how my nagging of my mother had led to her walking out of her marriage to Dad and her conversion to Islam? You don't believe a woman who needed to find herself would find herself in Islam? Well Mum did because in Islam she could be valued for her brains as she did no need to display herself like western women. You have heard that she had come back for me dressed in her chador but dad did not want her "corrupting" me so they had agreed that she would not see me again until I was 18 and had finished my exams? Then Mum had sent for me and dressed me in a chador and made up my face like a woman's so I could go to her mosque with her. I had gone intending to mock what I saw at the mosque, to do what I could to rescue the damsel in distress, my mother. I was going to be her crusader, her knight in shining armour. Only now at her mosque I realised I was lost. I had thought of women as inferior, I had thought of Islam as inferior. Allowing Mum to put this chador on me and to put makeup on my face had been an act of submission. In submission to my mother and her new found religion I now felt part of something at last, I had felt wanted, I had felt part of a community but banging round in your head as my story is being told to you is the fact that I had said that I was a male chauvinist pig and you are left wondering how I agreed to be transformed into a woman so quickly? Well in the first place I had not. All Mum had done was put a sheet over my head and put make up on my face. Yes, I might have been a male chauvinist pig but this wasn't the first time I had worn a bit of makeup and if I was going to Mum's mosque I didn't want to be recognised when I came out, it was a disguise I was prepared to put up with so I could see what Mum got out of going to her mosque. In my mind I was acting and perfectly butch male actors dressed up as women all the time. But in this world of make believe I had not expected the strong feelings I was now having. In feeling both wanted and that I was part of something at last I had found something that I both wanted and needed I had not expected to be saying upon my first visit to my mother's mosque "I bear witness that there is no God worthy to be worshipped but Allah and I bear witness that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah." But here I was, saying it to the Iman, who said, "I am proud that you have returned to Islam my sister Caliana." It was at that point that the words Mum had said came back to me, "It's not your religion we need to begin with, Caliana, but your body." And the Iman was calling me his sister Caliana and part of me wanted to be his sister now because I wanted to be a good Muslim and this good Muslim was calling me his sister. I had been reborn. I had a new Islamic name and it was now time to complete my rebirth. Yet at the same time I was struggling with the part of me which wanted to cling on to the past that said, "What the hell are you doing? You are a man, why the fuck do you want to become a woman? What on earth do you want to become a Muslim for?" But that side of me was the old me, the aggressive me, the me that could not see the beauty of submission, of abdication of my power as a man, of submission to my mother and to Allah. I was for the first time in my life in distress. I couldn't rescue my mother because she did not want rescuing. My mother had instead come to rescue me. She was my knight in a shining chador and I was her damsel in distress. I was being led along a path to femininity, Islamic femininity. "So, Caliana, no one noticed you are a boy under your makeup and chador?" Mum asked when I got home. "Mum, you know I am not called Caliana and that I am your son Christian." I replied weakly. "You were a Christian, my son, Christian but you have come to see the superiority of Islam as Caliana and you know you must now submit to Allah. Don't you?" she replied forcefully. I nodded, with a tear in my eye. "Shush! Stop now, your mascara is running. Don't worry I will help you. You are Caliana now, my darling daughter. You helped me to become a Muslim now it is my turn to help you. I'm going to help you to become a Muslim woman just like me." First Mum helped me out of my chador and then she had me shave. All over. Mum then gave me a scarlet silky pair of panties with a black lace trim. There was no going back now I thought as I stepped in to the most beautiful underwear I had ever worn. I was hesitant about putting on my panties. I was like a horse being bridled for the first time. Part of me wanted to run off but I knew I needed to be bridled. My panties seemed to caress my now hairless legs as I pulled them up. I realised quickly that I needed to tuck my penis between my legs and there was a hole in the panties into a sort of sheaf that seemed designed for just this purpose. (I have since learnt it is meant for a tampon.) I tucked my penis away and then stood before my Mum with a now flat groin and a smooth hairless body. Mum painted a henna pattern on my hands, arms, feet and neck because she explained it is Ramadan and most of the men in the mosque were Somali and their woman wore these patterns during Ramadan. Next she stuck false breasts on my chest with superglue and then strapped me into my first bra and I was transfixed by the beautiful patterns on my bra cups. (I have got used to wearing a bra now but I couldn't stop staring at my first bras and I remember the black lace trim on the scarlet cups of my first bra like it was yesterday.) I looked pretty much like a woman now, standing there in my underwear. I was still wearing my make up and now I had these henna designs Mum had drawn on me and breasts and a flat space wear my penis would normally be. "I am concerned to ensure your aggressive old masculinity doesn't resurface so I have been painting you, Caliana, your face, neck, hands, arms and feet but we need to finish it off. Now sit down and let's do your toenails." Mum had picked out a scarlet nail polish which matched my underwear. As she started to paint my toes I wanted to resist. I wanted to kick the polish out of her hands but at the same time I also wanted Mum to paint my nails and dressed as I was, wasn't it childish to kick the polish out of Mum's hand? Mum put cotton wool between my toes to stop her handiwork getting messed up. As Mum finished my toes I offered her my right hand and it seemed like no time before she had finished both hands. "Under a chador, Caliana you needn't wear anything more than you are already wearing as nobody would know what you are wearing or not wearing. But I can't have you walking round the house in just your underwear can I?" Mum passed me a suspender belt and as I attached it around myself and put the straps through my panties I had that feeling of being like a horse being bridled for the first time like when I put on my panties. I rolled a pair of fishnet stockings up my right leg and attached it to my suspender belt and then I did the same with my left leg. Mum then passed me a full body slip which I now put on without hesitation. I was on my way to becoming a Muslim woman in a chador now, just a dress and some shoes and my outfit would be complete.

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nous etions a table et attendions les miss qui etaient partie se faire un brin de toilettes ,le temps nous semblaient long ,trop long mon client et nous decidons d aller voir ce qu elle faisaient etant donné qu on avait tres faimnous montons dans ma chambre ou se trouve aussi notre salle de bain privative et la en entrant dans la chambre nous les voyons toute les deux nue sur le lit ,encore humide de la douche avec un etalage de gode ma femme a une collection exceptionnelle ,j avoue je lui en...

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This is my real life story which started 2 years back when I got married to my beautiful wife Neha.She was 21 years and looked like 16 but she had full grown assets and almost nobody could spare a glance. The first 6 months was real first and we had an awesome sex life in spite of being a arranged marriage. She has been always shy to sexual things and I felt good in exposing that. Slowly we started fetish and BDSM to spice up our boring life. We bought lot of BDSM equipments as well in our...

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Neighbor Bhabhi My Dream Girl 8211 Part1

Hello i am Aryan back with my second story. My First Story “RELATION WITH COUSIN SISTER”() was posted few days back.. Received many mails for that. Thank you for writing to me. If you want to write anything about that story also then write to me on my new mail id i.e. I just want to say that all the stories which i will post here are my true experience. I don’t have time to post fake or fantasy story here. Any girls or Bhabhi want to contact me for satisfaction or for chat then they can...

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Doctor Doctor Dirty Doctor Part1

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bookworm woman encounter part1

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