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The Black Burqa illustrated, part two
(Undisclosed)

Sfiyah visited just now, and she was quite excited. "Ayesha, I have a task for you." Uh-oh, I thought, she wants me to bake a cake, and I'm a really rotten cook. But that wasn't it. "You know Jawaria?" "You mean the one married to Dawud?" "That's right," said Sfiyah. "Well I was with her yesterday, and she has a big bruise on her cheek." "How did that happen?" "She said she bent over and hit it on a tap, but I don't believe that's true." "Why would she lie?" "To avoid the shame of admitting that her husband beats her. You remember, you didn't tell anyone when Raafid was beating you." "So why is it your problem?" I asked. "It's a problem for all of us," she replied. "We are all sisters, and so we must care for each other." "Maybe he had a good reason to beat her?" I wondered. Sfiyah gave me a withering look. "Like Raafid had a good reason to beat you?" "Good point," I admitted. "So what do you want me to do about it?" "I think you should Raafid him. Do what you did to Raafid." "But that was different. He was going to marry off Maryam when she was only thirteen, and I just lost my cool at him." Sfiyah shook her head. "That was the trigger. But the real reason was all the abuse you took over so many years. Well, now Jawaria needs your help." "Why me?"

The Black Burqa illustrated, part one
(Undisclosed)

My name is Ayesha. I am a pious Muslima, married to Raafid, my four off springs are Maryam, Gamali, Nasif and baby Kaadiha. I wear the veil, because I am a modest woman. I'm not smart like my friend Sfiyah. She seems to know everything. I read my Quran, and I'm still rather ignorant, unskilled and often I don't understand what people are saying. But I'm happy. At least, I was happy, until Raafid decided that he didn't like my cooking. To be honest, I don't blame him - cooking is one of the many skills I've never mastered. My food comes in two varieties, soggy or burned. So for the last two years, we've been at loggerheads. First, he spoke to me and told me to improve my cooking. I asked "How?" but he didn't have an answer. Then he tried to punish me by not joining me in bed. That's supposed to be a punishment? And when neither of those worked, he started beating me. They say that what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That seemed to be true for me - I noticed that I was thickening in the places where the blows landed. And it was hard muscle, protecting my body from Raafid's rod. He kept it hanging on a hook on the wall, and I knew that when he took it down, I was in for another beating.

Promises, Promises (Part 1)
(Story: Spoonmaster)

When a beautifully buff gym promoter enters the life of a loving married couple, she promises the young wife (and other housewives gathering around her home), that this new Women's Only gym could bring them superhuman strength; a thought that fit the fantasies of this young couple to a T. The excited wife (convinced she would reach this goal) made her loving man promise to wrestle her using all of his strength when the time was right, and that she would overpower him utterly and out-wrestle him like a pillow (even though he is much larger than she is), and if she couldn't, she promised to use her ample assets on him for as long as he wanted. What did he have to lose, even if super strength for his wife was an impossibility - or was it?

The Black Burqa part one
(Undisclosed)

My name is Ayesha. I am a pious Muslima, married to Raafid, my four off springs are Maryam, Gamali, Nasif and baby Kaadiha. I wear the veil, because I am a modest woman. I'm not smart like my friend Sfiyah. She seems to know everything. I read my Quran, and I'm still rather ignorant, unskilled and often I don't understand what people are saying. But I'm happy. At least, I was happy, until Raafid decided that he didn't like my cooking. To be honest, I don't blame him - cooking is one of the many skills I've never mastered. My food comes in two varieties, soggy or burned. So for the last two years, we've been at loggerheads. First, he spoke to me and told me to improve my cooking. I asked "How?" but he didn't have an answer. Then he tried to punish me by not joining me in bed. That's supposed to be a punishment? And when neither of those worked, he started beating me. They say that what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. That seemed to be true for me - I noticed that I was thickening in the places where the blows landed. And it was hard muscle, protecting my body from Raafid's rod. He kept it hanging on a hook on the wall, and I knew that when he took it down, I was in for another beating.

A Memoir Of The New Paradigm (Chapter 3)
(Story: Sunblind)

During a business meeting where A.J. is about to be taken full advantage of by yet more vastly powerful super-women, he is taken back to a time when his growing relationship with Janey blossoms, though not without him paying the price for being sexually used by an older woman next door! Still, their bonding grows ever stronger, and the two young lovers get married, leading to a Caribbean honeymoon, where all of their sexual fantasies will be fulfilled - or so they thought! Unfortunately a meeting with some other superhuman females during dinner, leads Janey down a dark path, one she regrets whole-heartedly the next day, though one which causes potentially dire consequences for her darling A.J.!