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This is a story with veiling fetish. Many people have this fetish, though it’s not that popular. In case you wish to know more or read more stories related to veiling fetish, do for tales of the veils on google. It’s an educational site and also contains stories related to the veiling fetish.

I would like to thank Nye North from TOTV for proofreading my story.

1. Questions

It was late afternoon. I had finished my lunch and was on the way to my afternoon nap. DING DONG! It was unusual for someone to come at this time, so I went to check out who was at the door. When I opened it, in front of me stood a person shrouded from head to toe in black.

Before I go any further, my name is Janice Foster from Boston and I live in a beautiful two story house in the slightly better part of the town not yet converted to a concrete jungle. This part is famous for the bungalows and villas, all of which are at quite a distance from each other which is pretty good for my privacy. I am about five feet five inch at height with a fair complexion and blond hair. I have a slim but well toned figure mostly due to my upbringing. I am a widow, my husband George died five years ago and I have a son who is in Philadelphia studying as a fresher. I am forty years old and live alone in the house. My husband was a good businessman and before he died in a car crash he had opened an insurance policy for himself. After his death I received enough money from the insurance policy that made sure I did not need to work again.

Anyway back to my story. I was not shocked, just surprised. I have seen many women wearing such dresses or ‘veils’ around and am not biased either. But to see someone wearing such on my doorstep made me uneasy.

I said “Hello, how may I help you?”

No reply.

“Did you come to see me?”

Nod. Well now this was getting weird.

“Okay. So why are you waiting outside? Come on in.”

I opened the door completely and the woman, I knew it was a woman for only they dress as such, glided into the hallway then the living room and stood by the sofa. After a moment’s pause, I closed the door and asked her,

“Would you like something to drink or eat?”

Shake of head. It was weird and confusing. I didn’t have much time to think as from under her coat she produced a letter in a gloved hand. It was brownish and hard compared to normal letters we use and I thought it was from somewhere else. Carefully I opened the letter. It read as,

‘Hello I am Fouziya, head maid at the House of Damani in Russia. I am here to offer a position of personal maid to Mistress Fatima Damani. Complete training and lessons will be provided along with clothes and bedding. We recruit women from all corners of the world and some of them are recruited by Mistress herself. We are always ready to recruit single women and widows as it often helps solve many problems for them. The job helps them fight loneliness and gives them something constructive to do. I hope you will accept the offer. If you accept the offer come to the Hotel Falcon room no. 110. Any questions will be answered only if you accept the offer. I will be there for a week so you must let me know before then.

Thank You.’

This was incredulous; first this lady arrives on my doorstep and then gives me an invitation about some Damani house in Russia! I was angry at letting her get to me.

So I said, “Well, I do not know you and I don’t think I will let you take advantage of me so easily. You can leave now and I will forget this ever happened.”

I was scared and I was not letting her fool me so easily. However it seemed she had thought about this as well as she produced another letter and an envelope this time. I took it from her gloved hand. It read,

‘I thought you might not trust me so I bought you something that might help your decision. Enclosed in the envelope is a photo of my Mistress Fatima Damani. You take a look at it and decide.’

I carefully opened the envelope and from inside it took out a photo. The woman in the picture was a normal woman with black hair, black eyes and high cheekbones. She was in traditional clothing I guessed. After close inspection though, I found that she was my childhood friend Maria. That could not be right? How come she was in traditional clothing? And Fouziya, that’s what my visitor called herself, said the photo was of Fatima Damani, Mistress of Damani Household? My head was spinning now; unconsciously I lowered myself onto the couch. The woman stood there silent and motionless. After some time I looked up to her and stammered.

“But th . . . this is Ma . . Maria?”

She gave a nod and produced another sheet of paper.

‘I will take my leave now. Keep the letters and photo. I will wait for you in room 110.’

With that she glided towards the door. Moments later I shook myself and followed her. She just stood at the door waiting for me. Embarrassed I opened the door for her and she glided out and within minutes was out of sight. I closed the door and went back bolu escort to the letters and photo. Was that really Maria or was this some trick? I wondered.

The day went by in a blur. Since I have no close relatives or friends almost the entire day was spent thinking about my childhood friend Maria. We grew up together in Boston, went to school together and even first few years of college. During college I met George and I fell in love. She supported me but at the same time she also revealed herself to be Gay. Many people were shocked. She was a lesbian and she said she realized men did not turn her on the way women did.

This did bring some complications. George, even though good, was narrow minded in nature. He did not understand her and they had a big argument. He told her to stay away from me. I tried to pacify them but George asked me to choose between Maria and him. I was torn and all I could do was stick with George. That day I could see the hurt in her eyes and I felt I had somehow betrayed her. For whom, I don’t know. I did not see her after that. I asked her parents and they said she went to France to study. That was the last day I saw her and probably the last I could ever have seen. But now this Fouziya had tugged at my curiosity and I wanted to know. Later that night, while I was in bed trying to sleep, I decided to go and ask her questions. Ask questions and then if this all was some trick I would opt out, right? With that thought I fell asleep.

2. Revelations

The next morning after getting ready I went straight to the Hotel Falcon. At the receptionist’s desk was sitting a 20 year old with blond hair. I said to her,

“Hello, I am Janice Foster and I am here to see Ms. Fouziya.”

She replied “Oh Ms. Fouziya is waiting for you, kindly head to the third floor and then second room to the right.”

“Thank You.” I said.

On the way to the third floor my head was full of questions and excitement for the unknown. I stilled my thoughts and knocked on the door. It was opened after a few moments by the same black shroud. I entered and she closed the door and beckoned me to sit on the sofa facing a straight backed chair which she took for herself. For the first time she spoke. Her accent was British or so I thought. Her voice had a sing song quality.

“Hello Janice. So what is your decision?”

I said “Before I accept I would like to clear some things up about the job.”

She said in a firm voice. “The only way I would answer your questions would be after you accept the offer. I fear if you are not sure then you take some more time or reject it outright.”

I bit my lip. This was not what I expected.

“Okay. So if I accept the offer then you will answer my questions?”

“Yes, I will.”

But I thought I heard a ‘maybe’ somewhere in that reply. I went on.

“I accept. Will you now answer the questions?”

“No.”

“Why? I accepted your request.”

“Your words are not written in stone Janice. If you want to accept, it will be according to my terms or you can leave.” She said in a firm voice.

I felt trapped. I said, “Okay go ahead then. What would you have me do?”

She gave a nod. “First of all go to the inner room and strip.”

“What? What has that got to do with this?”

“Do not question me before you have accepted Janice.” She told me in a scolding tone.

I acquiesced. In the inner room was a four post bed, a dresser and a walk-in closet. I quickly stripped completely. About five minutes later Fouziya glided in. She said,

“Now I want your word that you will not interrupt me. This is a test. Whatever I do if you accept it you will remain quiet or you say one word and you are out of here and will never hear from me again. Do I make myself clear?”

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“What I do here are requirements of your acceptance. If you endure it I will know you have seriously thought of accepting the offer. Otherwise I will know you are not the right person for the job.”

I kept quiet. I wanted to know about Maria. If this could lead me to some information I would do it.

First of all she produced a shiny black suit. I immediately knew it was latex. It was a catsuit. She handed me a talcum pack and told me to spray the powder all over my body. This was weird I thought but I went on with it. I put on the suit and zipped it up the back. The zipper’s end came up to my neck. Then she produced a hood also in latex. It had holes for eyes and mouth but no holes for the nose.

I asked “How will I breathe in this?”

“You will know. Now be quiet,” she replied.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail and fed it through the hole at the back of the hood. Once the hood was on and zipped up to my neck I found it was tight and I had to breathe through my mouth. She then produced a shiny silver object. It was a collar. I tried to shy away, but before I could do so she had snapped it on my neck. I tried to remove it but found it was seamless. She said in an amused tone.

“It bolu escort bayan cannot be unlocked.”

I said between my breaths. “But … No … remove it …”

“Sorry but this is one of the guarantees that will make sure you do not change your mind.” she replied.

“Remove … it … now,” I shouted. I was getting breathless due to the effort of speaking.

In a calm tone she said “Well I cannot remove it for that matter. Only my Mistress has the code to unlock it. You are stuck for now.”

I was furious but what else could I do. I could not go outside in a shiny catsuit. Could I? I told her firmly, “Get on with it then. I cannot go outside like this anyway. Finish off your work then.”

In an admiring tone she said. “You learn quickly. You will make a good maid.”

I just glared at her.

She produced a pair of black latex gloves which I put on dejectedly. Well I was not getting out of the collar so I might as well do what she says. Then she passed me some leather cuffs with rings on them. I just looked at her.

“Come on, don’t waste time.” She said.

I put the cuffs on my wrists and on my legs just above the ankles. She then systematically padlocked each cuff. Now I was effectively trapped.

“Now I think you will not go anywhere. We will finish the dressing after I answer your questions. Remember I can do this the easy or the hard way. The collar you wear is called a discipline collar. I can give you mild to strong shocks. I control them. Do not disobey me. Follow me.”

I swallowed and followed her. She took my clothes in one hand and then put them in a black plastic bag and placed it in a trash can. I was just going to ask her what she meant by that, I was shocked near my neck. Its frequency sent me to my knees in an instant. I groaned.

She said. “This will tell you not to disobey me. This was just a mild shock. You will not speak unless spoken to. Understood?”

“Ye-” I groaned again as another shock came up.

“Understood?”

I hated her already. I just nodded.

“Good.” she said and patted my head as if I was a child who had made a mistake.

“Remember you are a maid. Only the Mistress can do things freely. You are to wait for her permission always. Since she is not here, I will be your temporary Mistress. Kneel there. Yes right. You will either stand in my presence or kneel in front of me. If I tell you to sit you will, otherwise you kneel or stand.”

With that said she went to sit on the sofa and I grudgingly and fearfully knelt by her legs.

“So ask your questions maid.” she ordered.

She did not use my name at all. This was ridiculous. But I knew I was trapped.

I started. “Who was the lady in the photo?”

SHOCK! I was writhing this time. This one was higher in intensity.

“You speak with respect to one at a higher post than you and certainly to your Mistress.”

“I am so… sorry Mi … Mi … Mistress” I said. For the first time I saw a small black thing in her hand. It was at my eye level and pointed towards me. I knew that was the device used to shock me.

“Was the lady in the photo really Maria Mistress?” I asked respectfully. I did not want any more shocks.

“Yes. I guess it is time to tell you why you are here in this position. Don’t you think so?” she asked.

“Yes Mistress. Please Mistress.” I said. I hated myself for doing that but what choice did I have?

Not knowing the thoughts in my mind, she continued

“Before she married Mr. Ahmed Damani, a good Iranian businessman, she was Maria Bishop. She studied in some university in England and became a successful reporter. It was during one of these interviews that she met Mr. Ahmed. Mr. Ahmed, even after knowing that she was a lesbian, he proposed to her. Out of respect and peer pressure she married him and came to Iran. It became known later that it was a business agreement. Mr. Ahmed had two wives before her. One died during childbirth and second was barren. So in return to giving him children she would get money and a comfortable life. She lived a veiled life for five years in which she gave him three children. She gave him two boys and one girl but after that Mistress decided to end the contract. Mr. Ahmed allowed her to go but on the condition that she does not meet any person from her past or anyone who can connect her to Mr. Ahmed. This was the price she had to pay for her lesbianism. So she shifted to Russia under the House of Damani. Her sons visit her sometimes but that is all. She has not met her daughter from the time of her birth.”

I was shell shocked. All this had happened and I did not know anything. I had sympathy for her. It was not easy for her and I wanted to comfort her but I let that thought hang as Fouziya continued.

“But that is not the reason why you came into the picture. One day in anger she told us about you. She was angry about something and she started yelling at the maids. We were terrified. She told us about a woman from her past that escort bolu she loved and that woman broke her heart. She feared that the women living in the mansion would one day betray her. That was the day she introduced veiling, making us veil in the strictest form. It has been eight years since she saw our faces or heard our voices…”

Her voice trailed off. If earlier I had not been shocked this would have been more shocking. I couldn’t believe it. Maria loved me? That could not be possible. But then I thought, we were so close together she could have misunderstood me. Oh what a mess this was. I was pulled from my thoughts when Fouziya spoke.

“It took me two years before I could find out who this woman was. It was you. All of us maids hated you. We all love our Mistress immensely. Many have shared her bed but all that changed because of you. Mistress has now become cold Janice. She has forgotten love. She has replaced it with hatred.”

“I am sorry Mistress.” I said meekly.

“Well that is one reason you are in this predicament.” she said.

I looked at her veiled face and asked, “How?”

I remembered later that I missed ‘Mistress’ but she ignored it and said,

“We want our loving Mistress back. The only way I could think of was to remove this hatred from her and to do that you needed to be there. So some sisters made a plan and I came here to find you and take you with me. We feared you may bolt at the first sign of trouble so I kept the acceptance condition and trapped you in the suit and collar. I know it might have hurt you but I could not have let you go.”

“Oh” That was all I said. I understood the reason for Fouziya’s visit.

But she went on. “So we want you to become her personal maid. We want you to win her back for us by devoting yourself to her. You should devote yourself completely. And show her and teach her to love again. That is what we want.”

I was dumbstruck. Serve her. Devote myself? I never thought I would have done anything like that but I was now determined. I had to get the old Maria back somehow.

“And the second reason is that you have to be punished.”

Punished? I did not like the sound of that but I kept silent.

“You should be punished by Mistress for hurting her. You should be punished by us for driving our Mistress to coldness. And you will be punished that I promise. So now I have said all I had to and will say no more.”

I knew from the tone that no more answers would be forthcoming. “Thank you Mistress.” I said.

“Another thing, this hotel is quite expensive so I will be moving into your house. Let’s get you dressed up and we will leave.” she said and got up and started gliding towards the inner room again.

Move into my house? What will people think? I did not have much time to muse as I quickly scrambled behind her.

3. Preparations

This time she took me to the bathroom in the inner room. There was a horizontal rod for curtains near the bath tub and I noticed it had cuffs on it as well. She had me put my hands above my head and linked my cuffs to the cuffs on the rod. I was helpless now. Fouziya went out of the bathroom and returned a minute later carrying a corset. Now I am slim but I have never worn a corset. She put it around my waist and started pulling the laces and kept on pulling and I found it difficult to breathe through my mouth. After an eternity, in reality minutes, she laced it off. I was gasping for breath.

“I … can … not speak … while breathing …” I said with difficulty.

“I have a solution.” With that she went out of the bathroom and came back. She had a ball in her hand and it had straps on either side.

“Open wide now.” Fouziya ordered.

When I opened my mouth the ball slid behind my teeth keeping my mouth wide open and she buckled it behind my head. I heard a click.

She came and stood in front of me and said “There it goes. The gag has a hole which will allow you to breathe. With this in you will not need to waste your breathe on speaking. Also this will keep you from complaining. I have locked it as well. Only I have the key. Now, let’s complete your dressing.”

With that she removed the cuffs. My jaws were already aching but when I tried to speak only muffled sounds came. She was thorough. I followed her out into the inner room. On the bed lay a similar shroud to the one Fouziya wore. Along with that there were shoes also in black. She had me put on the shoes then she gave me a coat which when I had it on covered me from my neck to ankles. Then she had me wear a hijab, which is a headscarf that is wound around the head leaving the face open. Over that she had me wear a three layer niqab which came down to my waist. The only thing I could make out through the niqab was her outline.

With a nod she said, “This will be your attire throughout our stay here.”

She pointed to two suitcases and said “The suitcase on the left is mine. The one on the right is yours. Yes, those are the only clothes you will wear now on. Now get hold of these suitcases and follow me maid.”

She emphasized the word ‘maid’. I meekly took hold of both suitcases and followed her. At the door to the entire room, she said “Remember now, you are my maid and I am your Mistress so you will follow two paces behind me.”

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