"Remember, my friends, the best of you are those who are kind to their wives," Imam Mohammed Abdi said, as he spoke to the brothers and sisters at the Sal Al Din Mosque about proper conduct within relationships. The stocky, bearded and dark-skinned, fifty-something, Somali-born Canadian Muslim preacher was happy to see such a high turnout of believers on a rather cool Friday night in early May in the City of Edmonton, Alberta. Smiling at the gathering of congregants, he led them into prayer.
Following Jummah Prayer, as was his custom, Imam Mohammed Abdi stuck around to speak to various brothers and sisters. The majority of the congregants were young people from various colleges and universities in the City of Edmonton, Alberta. Most of them were the sons and daughters of Muslim immigrants from various places. Somalis, Arabs and South Asians made up the bulk of the Muslim population of metropolitan Edmonton, though there was a growing number of white converts...
"Have a good night and get home safe, Salaam, I must return home," Imam Abdi said, smiling beatifically at his fellow believers, before excusing himself. Leaving the mosque in the capable hands of his assistant Farouk, a burly Persian brother whom he'd known for ages, the Imam headed for the parking lot, and got into his bright red Rav4. With a smile on his face, the preacher drove to the Ellerslie suburb of southeastern Edmonton, where he lived.
"As Salam Alaikum, my dear," Imam Abdi said as he took off his hat and entered his townhouse, where his darling wife Halima awaited. Lately, with the preparations for the holy month of Ramadan under way, Imam Abdi had lots to do. Whether he liked it or not, he was one of the leaders of the Muslim community in Edmonton. With the Muslim community growing day by day, clashes with 'traditional' Canadians were inevitable, and Imam Abdi wanted to smooth things over...
Hell, earlier this week, Imam Abdi had a sit-down with the Chief of Police and the Mayor about community policing and how local law enforcement might better engage with the Muslim community. Upon his recommendation, the police department hired five more Arabic-speaking employees, and two Somali ones. As far as Imam Abdi was considered, this was just a job well done. Anything he could do to help the Muslim community of Edmonton, if it were in his power, he'd do it. That's what a good Imam did...
"Walaikum As Salaam, Mo, you're late," Halima said, and the six-foot-tall, brown-skinned, almond-eyed and bodacious, Djibouti-born Muslim gal stood in the hallway, hands on her hips, a coy smile on her lovely face. Clad in a black tank top and shiny black leather pants, with an ebony headscarf wrapping her usually long, dark hair, Halima Abdi looked majestic and supreme. Cool brown eyes looked at Imam Mohammed Abdi, and Halima's lip curled with distaste...
"Sorry, my dear, the Ummah needs me these days, and I had to speak to a lot of people after Jummah prayers," Imam Mohammed Abdi said apologetically, and Halima rolled her eyes, then stepped aside to let her husband through. Taking off his Kufi hat, Mohammed Abdi looked at his wife sheepishly. For in this household, he was not the Imam, respected leader of the Muslim community, nor was he just another regular husband and father. Things weren't that simple around here...
With their sons Kader and Yusuf away at the University of Calgary, Alberta, Mohammed Abdi and his wife Halima had their majestic townhouse to themselves. Which meant that Halima's other side came out to play. As Mohammed stepped into the living room, he found Halima sitting on the couch, legs crossed, with a riding crop resting on her lap. Mohammed looked at his wife, and noticed that she looked non too pleased with him. Dammit, why?
"Excuses, excuses, Mo, I've heard them all, now, lose the clothes, get on your fucking knees and shut the fuck up," Halima said sharply, and her brown eyes, usually full of love and understanding, glared at Mohammed Abdi mercilessly. Sighing, Mohammed Abdi took off his Thawb robe, and stood naked before Mistress Halima, as his wife preferred to be called while in dominatrix mode. Bowing low before his Mistress, Mohammed Abdi uttered words of supplication to appease her...
"My sincere apologies, Mistress Halima, I am thy humble servant Abdi, and beg for your forgiveness," Mohammed Abdi said, and he crawled about on all fours before Mistress Halima, and then gently kissed her lovely feet. Mistress Halima looked down at her husband/submissive and scowled, clearly unimpressed with his bullshit. If Mohammed wanted her forgiveness, Mistress Halima mused, he was going to have to do a hell of a lot better than that...
"Shut the fuck up, Mo, I'm not one of your flock, preacher man, I am your Mistress, and I own your sorry ass," Mistress Halima said with a wicked smile, and with that, she rose. As a stunned Mohammed looked on, Mistress Halima took out a doggy collar and attached it to his neck, then fixed it to a leash. Tugging on the leash, Mistress Halima clucked her tongue, beckoning for her sub Mohammed Abdi to follow. When her sub Mohammed didn't comply fast enough, Mistress Halima whacked him upside the head.
"Ouch," Mohammed whimpered, and he shot her a look of reproach. Mistress Halima grinned, pleased to see her normally calm, cool and collected hubby lose his cool. Tugging on his leash, Mistress Halima led him around the house, and Mohammed followed her on all fours. As Mistress Halima led him around like a dog, Mohammed found himself feeling both humiliated and titillated. Hell, Mistress Halima's thick round ass, definitely a piece of Grade-A Somali booty, sashayed from side to side, looking oh-so tempting in her leather pants...
