"I am Mistress Asma El-Taib of Libya, and I will dominate the hell out of you," the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned, dark-eyed, Hijab-wearing North African MILF said, hands on her hips, as she stood before Samir Stephens. The big and tall, burly and dark-skinned young Haitian Muslim smiled nervously, feeling absolutely tantalized by the sheer presence of the budding Muslim dominatrix standing before him.
Whoever said that Muslim women are soft and sweet, instead of strong and commanding has obviously never met Mistress Asma of Libya. Samir smiled as he gazed upon her, thrilled to see this beautiful woman, the result of African and Arabian bloodlines, exert her natural authority. Muslim female domination had always thrilled the young man more than he could say...
"Yes ma'am," Stephens replied, and he fell to his knees, and kissed Mistress Asma's feet, much to her delight. Mistress Asma sat down on a throne-like chair in the basement of her townhouse in Nepean, Ontario. The sultry Libyan dominatrix clucked her tongue, pleased by Stephens display of obedience. Nothing she loved more than an obedient Muslim man, that's for damn sure.
"I've been wanting to tame you ever since you walked into my restaurant," Mistress Asma confessed, and Samir Stephens smiled. Months and months ago, the young Haitian Muslim walked into the Arab cuisine restaurant owned by Asma El-Taib, a newcomer to Ottawa, Ontario, by way of Tripoli, Libya. The food was awesome, the staff was friendly, and the hostess was absolutely ravishing. Samir Stephens kept coming back, even though he knew he had zero chance with the lovely Asma, lady of coy smiles and fearless gaze...
Samir Stephens would lie awake at night, thinking of Asma and her hauntingly beautiful smile. The tall, Hijab-wearing Libyan lady always dressed modestly, and spoke softly, but he could see much strength in those eyes of hers. Oh, and Samir Stephens also noticed that Asma had one hell of a booty, one that her traditional Islamic skirts could not conceal. On many a night, Samir Stephens fantasized about that big booty of hers, and the lovely Asma haunted his dreams...
For a long time now, Samir Stephens had been struggling with something. As a six-foot-three, broad-shouldered and dark-skinned Afro-Caribbean man from the island of Haiti, he carried himself a certain way. A lot of people in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, tended to stare at him everywhere he went. In the lily-white mindset of the capital of Canada, Samir Stephens was an exception with a capital E. Little did they know that the young Haitian Muslim was far more complicated than they could have imagined...
"Samir Stephens, stop daydreaming, I've got another task for you," Mistress Asma said in a sharp voice, and the young man looked at her, snatched out of his little trip down memory lane. Mistress Asma hiked up her traditional Islamic skirt, and Samir's eyes widened when he got a hint of her white cotton panties, which looked positively moist. Indeed, he began salivating right then and there, much to Mistress Asma's amusement...
