Somali Men Need Strapons Too

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I must admit that when I first met Hodan “Danni” Suleiman, the possibility that she might be a dominatrix never occurred to me. The prim and proper, hijab-wearing, short but cute Somali sister walking through the halls of Carleton University in her long skirt, with the Koran tucked under her arm seemed like the picture of Islamic feminine decency and responsibility. The kind of Muslim sister any Muslim man would be proud to introduce to his family as his chosen one. Shows much I know about women, including my Muslim sisters, eh? The name is Rafiq Khalid and I’ve got a story to share with you.

It is a common flaw and weakness among men of all races that we feel we have the right to date/marry women of any color or background while the ladies from our communities ought to remain untouched, our select prizes. I’m no exception. I was born and raised in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. My parents, Halima and Hassan Khalid moved to Ontario, Canada, from Somaliland in the 1980s, and had little old me, along with my sisters Halima and Maymuna. I grew up to be a six-foot-tall, lean and athletic, dark-skinned Somali brother with curly hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. A lot of Somali brothers living in the Capital are wasting their time smoking, committing petty crimes and chasing women. Hell, some brothers can do all three at the same time.

Me? I’m the Somali brother you never hear about. The good one. I study my Koran, I obey my father and mother just like the principles of the Prophet Mohammed teach me, and I stay in school. I don’t drink, smoke or run around sleeping with different women. A good Muslim man shouldn’t be a man-whore. Just like the Koran teaches, we ought to remain celibate until marriage and avoid sexual temptation. Ninety percent of Muslim guys living in North America or Europe don’t obey that rule. They sleep with anything that moves. Of course, when our Muslim sisters imitate that kind of behavior, brothers get mad and punish them harshly. And they see absolutely nothing wrong with that double standard.

Well, I’m happy to say that I am not like the others. I am not a hypocrite. I am a good-hearted, God-fearing black man and a proud Muslim. I want to get my business degree from Carleton University and become a successful businessman. I want to be a good example for the Somali Canadian community. Yeah, as you can see I’ve got big dreams. Unfortunately, this is where reality sets in. You see, in the Somali Canadian community, brothers who are pious and believe in education, hard work and family are considered uncool by our Somali sisters. The brothers who are way too westernized, with their low-hanging pants, their rap music, their weed-smoking and hard drinking, they’re considered cool by our sisters. Good brothers like me don’t get no love from the ladies in the Somali Canadian community. What’s a brother to do?

While walking through the hallways of my school, I run into a lot of Muslim sisters from places like Somalia, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Eritrea, Kenya and Somaliland. Those are the six places where you will find most of the world’s Somali population. We’re a widespread bunch. Tons of us live in places like Ontario bahis firmaları and Quebec in Canada along with Michigan and Minnesota in the United States. We’re a great people, or at least, we’ve got the potential to be a great people. Unfortunately, we don’t unite. At Carleton, it’s every Somali man for himself. Hell, the Arab students are more united than we are.

Given this sad state of the affairs, I shouldn’t be surprised when I started seeing Somali sisters walking around with Arab guys and even white guys. To be fair, I’d seen a few Somali brothers walking around with white girls and in some cases South Asian girls but for the most part, it’s Somali women dealing with guys from other communities. What does that tell you? Somali sisters are starting to lose confidence in their own brothers. They think we’re not good enough for them anymore, so they’re making goo-goo eyes at white guys and Arab guys. As a proud Somali brother who hopes to marry a sister from my culture, what am I supposed to do?

I met a white gal named Sophie Winston in one of my classes. Tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed. Built like a supermodel. Sophie is the western world’s idea of beauty, and much to the consternation of the local white guys, she happens to like black men. Sophie and I became friends, and began chilling together. You should have seen the way Somali sisters at school started eyeballing me whenever they saw me with her. Those same Somali sisters who ignored me when they saw me walking alone or flaunted their white or Arabian boyfriends to me whenever they ran into me. Why do black women feel the urge to flaunt their non-black significant others to us black men whenever they see us? Shit. That’s really annoying and immature. You want to go interracial? Good for you. Enjoy being the wife or girlfriend of Mr. Pale and Stale and leave us chocolate brothers alone. Thank you very much.

To be honest, I liked the attention I got from both black folks and white people whenever I went somewhere with Sophie. The gal was pretty, smart and good company. Going against my principles ( she’s not Muslim ) I asked her out…and got flat out rejected. Sophie told me that she found me boring and dull. Apparently, this blonde-haired white chick likes to date the ‘thuggish’ type of brothers. Just like a lot of black women I’d met, Sophie picked trash over class. Feeling dejected, I walked away. I sat in the university library that afternoon, feeling close to tears.

When a man is wracked with deep despair, that’s when he’s most keen to give into the temptations of the Devil. Even a faithful servant of Allah can give into the dark one in such times. I sat alone in a corner of the library, and indulged my one vice. I watched porn. And not just any porn. The kind of porn that held a dirty, forbidden fascination for me. Dominant women and submissive men. I watched a dominant, dark-haired white lady lady in a green Nurse’s outfit bend a black man over and stuff his ass with a strap-on dildo. For some reason, it really turned me on. I got so absorbed by what I was watching that I didn’t notice my acquaintance and classmate Hodan “Danni” Suleiman as she sat next to kaçak iddaa me.

Tapping me on the shoulder, Hodan asked me what I was doing. Panicking, I glared at her, then tried shutting down the video on the porn page I was viewing. Instead of shutting down, the video got magnified. Yup, it went full-screen. Hodan looked at me, then at the video. Shaking her head, she smiled. You like dominant women, Hodan said, grinning. I looked at her sheepishly. No use lying at this point. I was caught. Nodding, I admitted my guilty pleasure. I enjoy watching women dominating men. What kind of Muslim man watches this shit? I honestly don’t know.

Hodan looked at me, pensive. I asked her what she was thinking. Absentmindedly, she dropped her purse and icily told me to pick it up. It rolled a few feet away. Getting off my chair and on my knees, I picked it up and handed it to her. Smiling, Hodan took the purse from me. You are submissive, she said, licking her lips. Once again I nodded. I can help you, Hodan said, and looking into those eyes of hers, I saw both danger and excitement. Gently touching my face, which was completely taboo in Somali culture since we’re strangers, Hodan promised me she could help me. Be my guide, I pleaded, not knowing what I was walking into. Nodding sagely, Hodan promised me many wonders and delights, and she did NOT disappoint.

In the world of BDSM, female domination and male submission, Hodan became my Mistress and my guide. The short, plump, light-skinned Somali sister I’d seen every week in my psych class proved to be an absolutely wonderful teacher. And I eagerly learned everything she taught me. I became fascinated by all things BDSM, and developed a strong crush on her. Hodan told me how she’d long dreamed of having a fellow Somali to share her fascination in BDSM with, but sadly, most of our people weren’t into the kink lifestyle. We Somalis are conservative as a people due to our Islamic faith, and cultural influences. Hell, even normal sex is taboo among Somalis, don’t even get me started with what our people would make of BDSM.

With Hodan as my Mistress, I could let go of the obligations and rules I’d felt trapped by as a Muslim male and as a Somali. My Somali culture and Muslim faith demand that a man be dominant and a woman be submissive. Inside, I felt submissive, and I felt no shame in submitting to Hodan, for she was a strong black woman and absolutely worthy of my submission. One night, we took things further and actually tried something I’d dreamed of for years. We were in Hodan’s apartment on Bronson Avenue, not far from the university campus, and we’d been playing around a bit.

Hodan led me around the apartment in a leash and collar. I was naked save for my underwear, and Hodan was still fully dressed in her long-sleeved T-shirt, long skirt and hijab. Just like a proper Muslim sister. I asked her if she’d ever pegged a man and she smiled and nodded. I begged her to peg me, and Hodan smiled. My dominant Somali Mistress sent me to the washroom to shower and get cleaned up, then I came back to the living room. I found her wearing a strap-on dildo, and she had condoms and lubricant on the table kaçak bahis nearby. In a strict voice, Mistress Hodan ordered me to get on all fours.

Obediently, I did as I was told. Mistress Hodan got behind me and smeared lubricant all over my anus, then she pressed the dildo against my ass. Gripping my hips, Mistress Hodan pushed her dildo into my ass. I sighed as she penetrated me. At last my dream was finally coming true. For years I’d dreamed of getting fucked in the ass by a sexy, dominant woman wearing a strap-on dildo. I used to feel guilty about it because anal sex is considered haram in Islam and men are supposed to be dominant while women are supposed to be submissive. And now, at last, I was getting pegged and a fellow Somali was doing the pegging. A beautiful, dominant Muslim sister from my own people. Mistress Hodan smacked my ass and asked me how it felt to get fucked by a woman. All of the macho bullshit I’d learned from the sheikhs about male dominance and female submission went out the window. I was getting dominated by a Muslim woman and as a Muslim man, I loved every minute of it. I begged Mistress Hodan to fuck me harder. Laughing, my sexy Somali dominatrix did just that.

Much later, after fucking me for a long while, Mistress Hodan pulled the dildo out of my ass. I lay on the carpeted floor, and looked at my sexy Somali mistress. Thank you, I said with utmost sincerity. You’re welcome my angel, Mistress Hodan said, leaning over and gently kissing my forehead. I looked at her, and was amazed at how beautiful she was. My fine Somali sister. A woman from my people. My culture. My faith. My blood. Gently, I took her hand in mine and kissed it. Hodan blushed, and asked me why I did that. I smiled and told her she was amazing. And I meant every word.

That’s how it began, ladies and gentlemen. My relationship with Hodan Suleiman, the short, bossy Somali diva who stole my heart. We began dating, and after three months, I introduced her to my family. Since she’s the first Somali gal I brought home, my parents were quite excited. Since I’m the sole male heir of the family, they told me, jokingly of course, that they were starting to worry I might swing the other way. Pardon my language ladies and gentlemen but what the fuck? See what I told you about the Muslim community? If a guy sleeps around, then he’s a player and the sort of fella they warn their daughters about. If you don’t sleep around, and you’re studious, pious and chaste, then they start to worry about your sexuality and your manhood. You just can’t win when you’re a Muslim guy, man.

On a more pleasant note, my mom absolutely loved Hodan, and gave me her approval as we discussed things a little while later. My dad was just happy his only son finally showed interest in the opposite sex. My relationship with my lady is passionate. We’ve had regular sex, as in Hodan let me stick my dick into her pussy, and I absolutely loved the experience. I’m officially a man now. Hodan is absolutely wonderful. We enjoy each other’s company in and out of bed. At school, we attend Islamic student meetings together, and we hold hands as we walk through the halls of our venerable university. Life is good, and I thank Allah for putting this wonderful, kinky and freaky yet pious Muslim sister along my path. If we’re still together by this side next year, I’m putting a ring on it. Wish me luck. Peace.

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