MuslimFantasy – Busty Brunette StepSister In HIJAB Gets A Taste Of BDSM – Jezebeth

The aroma of sweet incense wafted through the lavish boudoir, its heady scent mingling with the heady musk of her perfume. She reclined languidly upon the silk-sheeted bed, her ample curves barely contained by the viper-thin fabric of her hijab. This was not her typical attire, but then, today was no typical day.

Jezebeth had always been the quintessential good Muslim girl – modest, demure, married to her faith as surely as she was married to her husband. But beneath that pious exterior lurked a darker hunger, a craving to be dominated, to be made to submit to a force far more powerful than divine decree. In short, she yearned to be made a slave.

Her spirited young stepsister, an American-born woman free from the strictures of traditional conservative Islam, had introduced her to the alluring world of BDSM. Jezebeth’s mind reeled at the secrets her tic-tac-toe scented cousin had whispered into her ear that fateful night – the cruel caresses of a well-wielded whip, the delicious shame of being bound and gagged, the ultimate surrender of mind, body and soul.

And now, at last, she would experience it for herself. Her heart hammered in her chest as she gazed upon the instruments of her impending pleasure. A leather flogger, a length of silken rope, variously sized dildos and vibrators…each one promised its own unique form of bliss.

The door swung open, revealing her stepsister, clad in a skintight black leotard and towering stilettos. Her own hijab had been replaced by a shiny latex hood, its borders decorated with crimson lips and sharp, gleaming teeth. In her hand she carried a ball gag emblazoned with the words “bad girl.”

“Assalamu alaikum, my little slut,” she purred, sauntering into the room. “Are you ready to play?”

Jezebeth could only nod, her mouth gone dry in anticipation. Quickly, her stepsister bound her wrists and ankles together, pulling the rope taut.

“No squirrming, no resistance,” she intoned sternly. “You belong to me now. I own your body, I control your pleasure.”

She crooked a finger, beckoning Jezebeth closer. With a hard shove, she pushed her down onto the bed, climbing atop her prone form.

“You excited, slut?” she asked, rubbing her plush rump against Jezebeth’s. “Excited to be defiled, conquered, used for my pleasure?”

Her hands found the clasp of Jezebeth’s hijab, tearing it asunder in one swift motion to reveal her abundant cleavage. She left provocative red lipstick marks across the cushiony mounds, before reaching up to pinch her nipples viciously hard.

Jezebeth cried out, but the sound was muffled by the ball gag that now stretched her mouth open. Suddenly, she felt the unmistakable pressure of her stepsister’s thumb against her anus, the damp circumference of the vibrator reaching up to breach her virgin hole.

“Nice and tight, just how I like my sluts,” she growled, plunging the toy deeper. Her other hand moved between them, expertly finding and flicking Jezebeth’s clit like a tiny button.

“Now my little doe-eyed slut is going to cum. Cum with me now, or I’ll have to punish you so very badly!”

Jezebeth’s world shattered into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations as the orgasm consumed her, leaving her boneless and quivering. But her mistress showed no mercy, roughly flipping her over onto her stomach. The stinging slap of the flogger rendered her insensate, every lash sending bolts of liquid lightning through her nerves.

“Ahlan baha,” she crooned between strikes, “Ah, honey, my pet, accept praise from your Master…Oh, you’re so completely helpless now.”

Jezebeth’s only reply was a muffled moan, her body shaking from overstimulation and adrenaline. She was floating in the space between reality and dream, lost to the slick heat of her cunt and the sharp burn of her lashed back.

As her stepsister’s rough hands guided the curved glass dildo into Jezebeth’s sore little rosebud, she let out a low, catlike purr – a testament to her uninhibited lust. She felt deliciously full, stretched to her limit around the girthy toy. Each push and pull rubbed it against raw nerves, sending aftershocks rippling from her wrecked asshole.

“You see the raies of Allah?” her mistress hissed, thrusting harder. “Now you see the raies of pain for your sin! You are so sooo worthless, so utterly pathetic, bouncing on the dildo, taking it like a real bitch! Maybe I should bring a horse to mount you. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Jezebeth couldn’t answer, reduced to incoherent whimpers and moans. This was not the quiet, chaste life of a devout Muslim woman – it was a twisted parody, an unholy travesty. But she relished it, reveled in it, addicted to the way it made her feel truly alive.

Her entire body tensed, drawn taut as a bowstring. She screamed around her gag as her stepsister brought her to a second, shattering orgasm, this one even more intense than the first. In the wake of herpendingness, she felt empty, used, utterly debased. And yet, she had never felt so alive, so scintillatingly aware of her own body and her place in the world.

“Thank you,” she mumbled weakly, once her gag was finally removed. “Thank you, wali, for showing me the path.”

Her mistress merely laughed, a throaty, knowing sound. “Oh, you’re welcome, little one. But we’re far from done. Until you obey my every command, your training has only just begun!”

And with those ominous words, she set about her task anew – to degrade, debase, and debauch her poor, unsuspecting stepsister until she was nothing more than a witless, rutting animal, a drone begging for its master’s cruel mercy.

She had been given a taste of BDSM, and she would never, ever be satisfied with anything less.