Array Ashley - Murderville

Samad pulled a head covering off the rack. “This is a hijab,” he said. “Whenever you leave the house you are expected to wear the full dressing. When you are here with me you are only required to wear the hijab.”

“But I’m not Muslim,” she said.

Samad gave her a sharp look that caused her to stop speaking. For a brief moment his face turned cold and a dark glare came over him as he stared at her.

“You are what I say you are,” he said with authority. “You belong to me, Liberty. You are mine now and no other man needs to see what is mine. I’ve invited you into my home and in my home you are expected to worship two things… Allah and me.” He held one of the burqas out for her. “Put it on.”

Her heart pounded furiously as anger overtook her. How dare he force his beliefs on her? She wanted to give him her ass to kiss but he held her entire livelihood in his hands.

“Can I ask you what the jewels are for? If I have to wear these they will be covered anyway,” Liberty protested.

“That’s the problem with women like you. You always want to be seen. So much flash… you require so much attention. The jewels are for you, not for the world to see. This is non-negotiable. Now let me see you in it,” he insisted, this time more sternly.

Liberty took the garment and hesitantly slid out of her kimono robe before dressing in the burqa. The fabric swallowed her shape, hiding her curves and concealing her beauty. The only thing that could be seen were her eyes, which were pooled with fresh tears. She now realized what the catch was. Her life was not entirely her own to live. Her time with Samad would not be as glamorous as she had thought. She didn’t see the point of having money or beauty if she could not flaunt it for others to see. The venomous look she had seen in Samad’s eyes let her know that he was a snake and if provoked he was capable of spitting his venom her way.

LIBERTY TOSSED AND TURNED ON THE SILK sheets, her mind refusing to unwind. She had a hard time sleeping in her new environment. There was something about Samad’s estate that made her restless. The vastness of the halls seemed to carry a constant echo, making it impossible for her to be at ease. She looked over at the empty space that Samad rarely occupied. Their night-time routine was the same. He expected sex from her, engaging her body into the wee hours of the night. When he was done he would stroke her hair until she pretended to fall asleep. When he thought she wasn’t looking he snuck out of the room and went into his office until the early morning hours. It was the one room in the entire house that she had never explored, and she silently wondered what secrets Samad held inside. It was clearly off limits to her, but as much time as Samad spent locked away inside that room, her curiosity was piqued. She crept out of bed and went to his office door, putting her ear to the wood. Her prying ears picked up on Samad’s conversation, and she frowned as she thought, Who is he talking to this early?

She listened closely, spying because while she lived under the same roof as him, she barely knew him. Although he never intentionally mistreated her, something didn’t feel right when she was in his presence. It was the way he looked at her that intimidated her. He was hiding something, and she needed to know more.

“This one is working out much better than the last,” she heard him say. “She is adjusting much quicker. It shouldn’t be long before she gives me a son.”

Her eyes widened, and she gasped knowing that he was speaking of her. A child was not in the cards for her. She would never bring one into the world with a man who didn’t love her. To Samad, Liberty was a prized possession… a trophy… a human souvenir for all to admire. A baby had not been a part of her plan.

“Ahem!”

She heard the sound of someone clearing their throat and she turned around to find one of Samad’s servants standing behind her with a kettle of hot tea on a serving platter.

Liberty quickly lowered her head and rushed back down the hall as the woman gave her a stern look. She hurried to the master bedroom and sighed as she closed the door, leaning against it for support. Hearing Samad express his intentions for her made her see things more clearly. Liberty had thought that Samad was insatiable in the bedroom. As often as he bedded her, she could barely keep up… but now she knew why he was so persistent with his lovemaking. He was trying to get her pregnant and that was something that she refused to allow. He owned her, but she refused to birth a child for him. She may have been his property, but no child of hers ever would be.

The next day Liberty awakened to breakfast in bed. She sat up and stretched her arms as Samad placed the wooden tray across her lap. He kissed her on the top of her head, and she gave him a weak smile.

“I have some associates coming over this evening to watch the big game. You feel like entertaining tonight and being my rising star?” he asked.

If Samad actually allowed Liberty to be herself, she wouldn’t mind being with him, but the rules he established for his woman were too strict for her. She always felt like a scolded child when he was around. He intimidated her greatly but she nodded her head anyway knowing that she didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Samad was a wagering man and an avid gambler. He didn’t have many friends… only business relationships, so she knew that the evening to come was important to him.

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” she said.

Hours later she stood at his side in her burqa as he introduced her to his guests. She hadn’t known that it would be a couple’s event and as she admired the gorgeous attire of the other women in the room she instantly felt as if she would suffocate in her Muslim gear. She never understood how Samad expected her to be arm candy when no one besides him even knew what she looked like. She felt uncomfortable and unattractive as she watched the other women socialize with one another, while leaving her out. She didn’t blame them. She would have done the same thing. Liberty couldn’t respect her attire when she knew nothing about its origin. It wasn’t her religion. She did not embrace it… Samad had forced his beliefs upon her. How did he expect her to be a trophy wife if she couldn’t flaunt what she had or the things that he had given her? Liberty sat down next to Samad and listened in on the conversation. Samad grabbed the remote control and flipped on the national news.

“This man,” Samad commented as he nodded his head towards the TV screen where the president was making a speech. “He is too nice. He’ll never be re-elected if he continues to give out all of these handouts. He sympathizes with the peasants,” Samad said as he sipped his red wine. Liberty looked around the room at Samad’s associates who all seemed to agree with him. She had been given strict instructions to only speak if directly spoken to, so she kept her two cents to herself. She found it funny that these spoiled heads of society would speak about something that they knew nothing about. They came from money. They had never experienced life at the bottom… all they knew was the bird’s eye view from the top.

“At the end of the day, he’s still one of them,” one of the women said. Liberty couldn’t help but to shake her head and chuckle slightly. So this is what they talk about when we are not around, she thought in disbelief as they spoke candidly as if her skin wasn’t black.

“You disagree?” one of the men asked her.

Liberty looked at him and then glanced at Samad nervously before she spoke up. “I do actually. I don’t think that people should speak about things that they have not experienced. You have no idea what it is like to scrape and fight for everything that you have. The people put our president into office… they need him. He is their voice. He doesn’t spite the little people in order to please people with opinions like yours,” Liberty said in a low tone.