sisteryasmine: naajahmuslimah: Once she was a sissy slut. But the day had arrived. Naajah prepared
sisteryasmine: naajahmuslimah: Once she was a sissy slut. But the day had arrived. Naajah prepared herself meticulously, making her body smooth, applying her make-up with all of her skill and perfuming her body. She trembled with anticipation as she dressed in the beautiful clothes He had chosen for her. The decorated tunic. The comfortable loose trousers. The shawl draped elegantly over one shoulder. Large ornate ear-rings and bangles that rang like bells with every move she made. A bag with the essentials for the day completed the ensemble. With a deep breath she stepped out into the world. A short walk to the station. The train journey to the City. A walk through early morning streets to the rendezvous. Naajah walked on air, feeling and looking more wonderful than she had felt before. She saw heads turn, and the stares as she travelled. For her dress was that of the Indian princess she felt inside, but her pale skin and blonde hair marked her as the Westerner she was on the outside. But that was what He wanted. She sat on a bench, and waited. Would he come? A shadow fell across her. A voice. “Naajah. Stand.” She stood, head bowed modestly. A male figure was there. A hand cupped her chin, and raised her head. A deep brown hand, gentle but firm. She looked into the face of her Indian Master for the first time. “You are beautiful, girl. You have prepared yourself well.” “Thank you, Sir”, she whispered, trembling. He took her shawl and gently draped it over her hair. “In public you will cover yourself in this modest way. If we continue I will require you to cover more fully. Maybe completely. But for now this simple drape will do. I want people to see your white face and blonde hair as we walk. I want them to know that you belong to Me.” He took her hand. “Come.” They walked through the City. As a couple, true, but she was slightly behind Him, and covered, with her eyes modestly downcast, whilst He walked erect and proud, parading his conquest. They stopped for lunch where He ordered her a light salad, choosing a more sumptuous meal for Himself. They ate and they talked; He asked abut her life and she answered truthfully, completely in the thrall of this handsome, dominant man. Then they walked again. The hotel they arrived at was unassuming, but expensive. He led her through the foyer to the lift without a word, then on to his room. At the door, He held it open. She could see the room. The bed. A low table on which were arranged … items. “The time has come Naajah. You enter of your own free will, but surrender that to Me when you cross the threshold.” He held out His hand. Naajah didn’t hesitate. “I surrender it all to You, my Lord and Master.” She held out her small, pale hand, and His strong dark fingers enveloped it. He led her into, and the door closed. Once she’d been a sissy slut. Now the day had arrived. Now, and forever, she would be Naajah. Soo beautiful my Sister!!! Xoxoxoxo -- source link
#sexual jihad