Pious Muslimah turns Cock Addict Slut - Part 1 - Sex Stories

Pious Muslimah turns Cock Addict Slut - Part 1

“It was best of the times; it was worst of the times." (A tale of two cities – Charles Dickens) It was best of the times on March 11, 1990, when I cried for the first time after coming out of the womb of my mother; it was also the worst of the times, as I was born in a developing country and thereto in a highly conservative Muslim f****y. I am a young Muslim girl of 22, living in a small town known as Bhopal in Madhiya Pardesh State, India. I was named Shazia at birth. Muslims in India are merely 22% of the population; and though India is a secular state, Muslims always try to be exclusive and protective. They try to adhere to their past glory, to the days when they used to rule over India. Maybe, that’s why Muslim women in India continue to wear a hijab (head covering) and a burqa (a long covering of the body and dress including face and hands too). Before India's independence, my grandfather served at the Court of Nawab Hamidullah Khan and Abida Sultana. They were the rulers of the Bhopal Princely State. My grandfather was a courtier of the Nawab and Begum Sahiba and was allotted a piece of agricultural land for subsistence, which was tilled by others for the benefit of our f****y. But at independence, India abolished rulers of all of the 565 princely states of India and the Jagirs (allotted lands by nawabs) were abolished too. My grandfather, as a result, lost all his means of subsistence. From Jagirdars and courtiers of yesterday, our ancestors became paupers the very ...

... next day. All lands allotted by Nawab were confis**ted by the Indian State after freedom and those lands were distributed to the actual tillers. Our grandfather and his f****y were left to live on the little savings they had. My father and my aunt (my father’s s****r) who were born after the freedom of India, saw a large house that was in shambles, fancy clothes in tatters and little to feed the stomachs. My grandfather made the best decision of his life; he sent my dad to a government school for western schooling. However my aunt (Phoopo) was made to stay at home, just learning the Koran and doing household chores, since Muslim girls could not go to school. When she attained marriageable age, there was no match within the f****y, as all other members of our f****y had migrated to Pakistan. My grandfather, the erstwhile courtier of Nawab, could not give his daughter to a man of lesser f****y status. Muslim girls in India by and large are given into a marriage by the f****y elders and a girl’s own choice hardly matters. My aunt Phoopo remained unmarried, turned lunatic and drowned herself in a Lake near Bhopal city. My grandfather, a man of high f****y prestige, lost his mental balance and soon committed suicide. But all that happened much before my birth. I was born in a small rented house in a Muslim majority area of Bhopal. My father had disposed of the large ancestral Havelli house and worked at the booking office of the All India Railways. My mother, although a staunch ...