Ayesha

by Cordellian

 

Chapter One

 

My girlfriend Jill was in a right old huff by the time she got back from the accommodation office. I'd been going out with Jill Clifton for six months now and in that time I'd seen her lose her rag over all manner of things that I considered inconsequential and hardly worth dignifying with protest, but that's girls for you – always making a drama over trivial matters. But when she landed, books first, at my table in the University common room on the first day of the new term, I could see from her dark scowling face that this was something else all together.

"What's up?" I asked as I flicked through a copy of FHM magazine.

"That's the rest of my year here ruined," she said by way of explanation. I lowered the magazine and glanced up at her. Jill is rather sexy, if I say so myself, and I counted myself lucky to be going out with her. She has slim hips, an athletic body, long blonde hair, and a soft buttery complexion that always looks like the softest of tans. She was dressed in a pair of hipster jeans and a white silk blouse and wore kitten heel sandals on her feet. The trouble is, Jill can be high maintenance – she knows she's good looking and she knows she can get away with shit that other girls can't. Still, she's a damn good fuck and being around her raised my social standing at university several notches.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"My new room mate. I've just been told who it is." Jill had been sharing with a girl called Patricia Daniels, but Patricia had spent a little too much time chasing the boys, doing the rounds of the night clubs and getting beastly drunk, and not nearly enough time studying. One thing led to another and, no surprise to anyone, she was out on her ear when she failed all her first year exams. Cue Jill having the luxury of the dorm room all to herself over the summer months until someone in the housing department suddenly realized there was a bed going spare. It was bad news for me too. I had to share my place with Mick, so Jill's private residence was just perfect for cosying up with the girlfriend. A new room mate would put an end to all that and we'd once again be resigned to having little to no privacy at Uni.

"And the lucky girl is?" One thing was certain – Jill's new room mate would have a damn hard time of it. For one thing Jill didn't want company, and for another, she was a bit of a snob.

"Emma Reid. I am stuck with weird Emma Reid for three whole terms! I'm not going to put up with this!"

The name meant nothing to me, but then it was a large Uni and Jill hadn't exactly encouraged me to sniff around the other female students. "And she is?"

"Weird, mad, mental, take your pick. Not the sort of person to share a room with. She's got a reputation."

"So have you," I pointed out, quite reasonably. That earned me one big black look and probably suspension of my oral sex rights for a week.

"I've heard she's into kinky sex stuff." Jill screwed her cute nose up. "And black magic. And she always wears black, and she doesn't have any friends, and I do not want to share a room with her."

The 'kinky sex stuff' comment almost made me raise an eyebrow, but I thought it best not to appear to take too much of an interest in Emma Reid because of that. Jill might get the wrong idea and make it two weeks loss of oral sex privileges. "Her reputation's probably exaggerated. She's probably just lonely and doesn't fit in." What I wanted to know though was what she looked like. But I bit my tongue and chose not to ask.

"You don't have to share a room with her." Jill opened a can of some soft drink as I leant back in my chair.

"Well, unless you want to chuck in your cheap subsidised dorm room and rent privately," and I knew Jill wasn't going to let that happen. Private accommodation was twice as much as the halls of residence cost. "It looks like you're stuck with her."

"Shit." The way Jill looked now could probably kill at twelve paces.

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I'm a red blooded male, so what happened next was a natural mix of curiosity and sexual fantasies. I've never dabbled in anything kinkier than going down on a woman, but the idea that my girl friend was going to share her room with a sex mad witch drove me to check this Emma Reid out in advance. It was a simple matter of finding out that she was enrolled in the Sociology department (of course – don't they get all the weirdoes?) and currently living off campus as the University's expense while they scoured the halls for a bed. No wonder Jill's spare bunk had been snapped up – beds were in short supply this year as one of the girl's dorms was being refitted at a loss of thirty double rooms until the end of Spring. Well, it was beginning to look like Jill didn't have any hope of complaining. The housing department would be only too glad to reallocate her bed too if it had the chance. My room mate Mick happened to know who Emma was, so the next day he pointed her out to me at lunch time when she happened to be in the locker hall.

Jill was right about the black clothes. Emma wore a long black skirt, almost Victorian like, a black long sleeved top, a black jacket, cinched in at the waist, black lace fingerless gloves, what looked like long black boots under the skirt, and a long black silk scarf. Oh, and she wore a little black hat too. Everything about it screamed Goth to begin with, but she didn't feel like a Goth. All the Goths I'd known had moped around, feeling all counter culture and different. Emma carried herself with the bearing and dignity of an ordinary girl, perhaps a bit posh, who just happened to like black. She wasn't fat, but she definitely had more rounded curves than Jill. Quite enticing they were too. Where Jill was stick thin with an almost boyish heroin chic body, Emma had a good size ass, firm breasts and a bit of substance to her. Like I said, she wasn't fat, but she wasn't thin either, and thin was what most girls seemed to want to be these days.

I watched as she rummaged inside her locker for books. Why not, I thought to myself. Let's be friendly, Rob my lad, and say hello to Jill's new room mate. I sauntered over, all casual like, and made a thing of suddenly noticing her and stopping in surprise. Emma had a small mirror mounted on the inside of her locker door and she caught my display without having to turn around. I could see she was applying some lipstick when I suddenly appeared.

"Hey, you're Jill's new roomie, aren't you? I'm Rob – Robert Conway." I gave her the once over – yep – now that was a well rounded ass. I could happily get a handful of those buns. I think she sensed what was going through my mind as she slowly turned round, the hem of her long skirt swishing a little around her booted ankles. There was something actually erotic about not being able to see her legs, but knowing they were booted up to calf height at least. I could tell the boots were old fashioned looking – with lots of laces up the front like Victorian ladies used to wear.

"Apparently so." Emma held her hand out to me, bent a little at the wrist and I realised with a start that I was supposed to kiss it. I laughed self consciously, but she just looked me in the eyes with a stern expression until I found myself taking that soft hand in its black lace glove and putting it briefly to my lips. She smiled now and drew her hand away. "I'm Emma Reid. Is Jill a friend of yours?"

"Girl friend actually. As in we're going out together."

"For the moment." Emma retrieved some books and closed her locker door.

"What do you mean, for the moment?" it seemed a strange thing to say.

"Just that. 'For the moment.' Things change." Emma regarded me as if I was stupid.

"Hey, Jill loves me."

"So?"

"What do you mean so?"

"You'll see." And then she turned and left me standing there. And this is where my troubles began because I'd foolishly made the acquaintance of Miss Emma Reid – She Who Must Be Obeyed.

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A few days passed by since that initial encounter. Emma moved in to her new room and Jill bitched about it non stop. I couldn't hold a conversation with her without hearing how stuck up Emma Reid was; how she wore nothing but black; how she had too many suit cases full of too much stuff; how she looked down at Jill as if she was beneath her. I was getting heartily sick of this and was finding my time with Jill to be very high maintenance so, when Jill decided to visit her parents over the weekend I breathed a silent sigh of relief. I could chill out, spend some time drinking beer and playing Tekken 3 on the Playstation with Mick for a few days and when Jill got back things would be better. I helped Jill with her bags over to the railway station and kissed her goodbye. She said she'd ring me over the weekend and warned me not to sleep around while she was gone. I laughed and said fat chance of that. Jill simply leaned out of the train door and cupped my balls with her hand, through the crotch of my jeans and gave them a gently squeeze. "Mine, remember," she said and kissed me again just as the conductor blew the whistle for the final time. I waved until the train curved from view before I returned home.

"There's a card for you," said Mick as I walked through the door. He was sitting on the floor, dressed in sweat pants and a Doors t-shirt, barefoot, smoking a cigarette, a can of beer on the carpet, and a Playstation controller in his hands. The sound of zombies moaning came from the small TV set, punctuated by the sound of random shotgun blasts each time he stabbed the X button.

The card in question lay on the table. It was small, five inches by three inches, in an expensive looking white envelope. I tore it open as I walked into the kitchen searching for food. The card was a single piece of white board and was inscribed with a fountain pen. It simple read 'Miss Emma Reid expects your company at 8.00 PM tonight. Smart Casual Dress.'

This had to rank pretty high on my list of weird things to happen to Robert Conway. I scratched my head and turned the card over in my hand. That was it – nothing else. What was she playing at? She knew Jill was my girl friend. I mean… it sounded like some sort of proposition, didn't it? Well, Jill had warned me she was weird. I tossed the card onto the worktop surface and pondered what to do.

I have to confess here that I'm a bit of a love rat. I'd been faithful to Jill for six months which was pretty good going for me, but partly that was because I didn't really get any offers, and with Jill around 24-7 I wasn't free to make a move on anyone else. The thought of a brief fling with Emma tonight did seem appealing, provided Jill wouldn't get wind of it. There it was – the element of risk that served me better than a moral conscience. Note please that I didn't feel a shred of guilt for lusting after Emma Reid's corseted body (for I'd begun to suspect that that hour glass figure, coupled as it was with a pair of handsomely endowed breasts and a well fleshed ass, had to be the result of a corset), just a slight sense of fear that I might be found out. That, as it transpired, should have been the least of my problems.

"You up for some Tekken 3 tonight?" asked Mick as I returned to our shared room. I shook my head and grinned.

"Sorry – other plans."

Mick knew what that grin meant and he also knew what it meant in respect of me and Jill and our relationship, but Mick was my mate and I'd known him well before I'd started going out with Jill, so he wasn't about to rat on me. What he did say though was, "I hope she's a stunner. You'll be a dumb ass fuck if you lose Jill." But I wasn't planning on losing Jill, was I?

'Smart Casual Dress' – like I had any of that! I found a pair of clean black jeans, an off white shirt and hoped that would do. I stuffed my wallet and room keys into my pocket and set off across the rounds towards the women's halls of residence. The Uni still maintained separate quarters which struck me as pretty damn anachronistic in this day and age. As if thirty yards of turf was going to prevent any monkey business between the lads and lasses.

I was in fine fettle as I knocked on Jill's door. What was I expecting? A warm hello, a few beers down at the common room, and then back upstairs to work my wicked way with the tantalising and curvaceous Emma Reid. Not quite.

The door opened and there she was, polite and dead certain that I would be here, obeying her summons.

"Come in freely and of your own will."

"That's a bit gothic isn't it? You're not a Goth are you?"

"No," she laughed a little. "Not even slightly. I just mean you're responsible for your own actions and decisions tonight."

Was this some sort of warning? Was she warning me not to make a move on her? I was suddenly very confused, but not so confused that I didn't eye up her body while she wasn't wearing a jacket. From the look of her I had guessed right – she was wearing a corset under that long sleeved top. Bloody hell – that had to be uncomfortable, but it did the job all right. My trusted friend in the trouser department was already twitching at the thought of such a masochistic concession to sexual allure. I watched her hips sway enticingly as she moved across the room. Emma has long dark hair with a slight curl to it, almost gypsy like. And she smells of soft cedar wood.

"So…" I let the word hang in the air like a question. And then I began to notice how different the room looked. It no longer felt like Jill's room. All her posters and ornaments were gone, replaced with what I assumed were Emma's. I couldn't imagine Jill allowing Emma to remake the room like that, but here was the evidence before my own eyes. And look, Emma had taken over Jill's bed. The best bed in the room was the one next to the bay windows. Jill's bedding now covered the second bed which was half a bunk bed. How the hell had Emma managed that coup?

"Drink this, Robert." Emma stood before me with a glass of red wine. I blinked and took the glass. "Are you having one too?"

"No. I'm driving."

"Driving? Where are we going?" I sipped the wine – it was really quite nice, very fruity and low on tannin.

"We're going to a restaurant. I've booked us a table. Once you've finished your drink." She touched my hand as I held the glass and I felt a slight tingle of excitement. What I didn't know then was that the wine contained a powerful laxative.

Well, I finished the wine and followed Emma out of the door, my mind racing with questions as we walked down the hallway and out onto the grounds. We veered off towards the car park where Emma's (black…) car stood. She switched the car alarm off with her key chain and opened the passenger door for me to get in. I watched the way she gathered up her long skirt to sit down in the driver's seat, and I caught a glimpse of those long black leather Victorian women's boots, all shiny with complicated laces. They were well heeled and added several inches to Emma's height. She noticed where I was looking and swiftly smoothed her skirt down to her ankles again.

"You like boots on women, Robert?"

"Um, yes." My voice sounded a little tight as I said that, and I coughed to clear my throat.

"You evidently do." She settled down behind the wheel, her breasts well accentuated by the tight lacing of the corset beneath her jacket and top. I shifted in my seat, feeling a semi-stiffie inside my trouser pants.

"In case you're wondering, yes I am wearing stockings with these boots. Sheer silk stockings with lace tops, very delicate suspenders and a tight black corset with scalloped lace." She eyed me curiously.

"That's…" my voice grew a little weak again, "very sexy."

"I'm glad you think so." Her left hand suddenly strayed to my crotch and felt the growing lump there. I sat still in my seat, aware that I was blushing. "Does Jill ever wear stockings and boots?"

"No…" I reached my hand towards her but she quickly slapped it back in warning.

"A corset?"

"No…"

"Of course not. But then Jill doesn't understand what turns you on, dear Robert." She stroked my face gently with her lace gloved hand and then, just as I began to melt to her touch, she quickly slapped me hard on the cheek.

"Ow!" I jerked backwards. But then her hand came forward and stroked me again.

"Hush. Don't say anything now until we step inside the restaurant."

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By the time we reached the restaurant, and owing to the fact that Jill had chosen one situated in the countryside, it had been a long drive, I was beginning to feel the sharp effects of the laxative that unknowingly I had drunk with the wine. My urge to pee hadn't yet become unbearable, but by the time she parked her car in front of the building it was certainly beginning to play on my mind. I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped out of the car as now I thought I could relieve my bladder in the toilet.

Emma led me into the restaurant where her jacket was taken by a waiter. It was a cosy rural place, snuggled away a few miles from the nearest village and accessible only by car. Mid week it didn't seem very busy and apart from us there was only one other couple dining. The waiter sat us down in a cosy alcove out of sight of the main door. As we received copies of the menu I excused myself to Emma.

"I need to pee. I'll be right back."

Emma smiled a mischievous smile at that comment, but simply nodded and buried herself in the menu. I realised why when I reached the toilet doors. Both the male and female toilets were situated close to the restaurant bar. The male door however had an out of order sign on it. I clenched my aching bladder and asked the lady at the bar where I could pee.

"I'm sorry Sir, but the male toilet is out of order. We don't have any facilities for you to use at the moment."

"I really need to go. Is there anyone in the women's toilet?" The girl glanced towards our booth where Emma sat out of sight, and then she smiled.

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to do that, Sir."

"What?"

"There are toilets in the nearby village – it's only a three mile drive. You could be back here in ten minutes."

I returned to our table, pissed off, with my bladder now really beginning to hurt. I couldn't remember the last time I had needed to go to the toilet quite so badly.

"Emma, I'm sorry, but is there any chance we could quickly drive into the village. I really need to pee and the toilets here are out of order."

"No." Emma looked up sharply and tapped the table with her finger. "Sit down and stop squirming. We've just arrived. If you needed to go to the toilet so badly you should have done so before we left."

"Emma, please…"

"And another thing, you will call me Miss Reid in future." Well, that had to be some kind of weird joke on her part, but I couldn't comprehend what it was about. All that was on my mind was the chance to pee. But it was her car, she had the keys, and I was stuck here until she chose to leave. Best get this meal out of the way quickly so that I could relieve myself.

But the meal was destined to drag on. We made small talk as I clenched my bladder tighter and tighter as the strong laxatives worked their way through my system. Emma, I mean Miss Reid, was quite sharp with me, talking down to me as if we weren't equals. I remained polite, knowing that I needed that lift back, but I was quickly regretting coming out here now. Her questions too were strange – questions about women's underwear, and had I ever considered how soft a silk chemise might feel against freshly shaved skin and all manner of surreal stuff like that. I answered automatically, a little distant. I found that I couldn't meet her gaze very well over the table. I'm not weak willed, but she had this sense of authority that was a little intimidating, and I almost felt like I had to answer her questions and truthfully too.

"When you were young I suppose you tried on some of your mother's clothes in secret?" Emma waited for my answer. I was about to respond along the lines of "what?" but before I could I felt a sudden surge of relief and a warm wet patch began to appear in the crotch of my trousers. Oh God. My bladder had just released and now fresh urine was seeping through my trousers. I have never been so embarrassed. Well, that's not quite true – I've been far more embarrassed and humiliated subsequently, but at that time me wetting myself was the worst thing that had ever happened in public. There was no keeping it secret from Emma especially as, unknown to me at the time, she had been waiting for it.

"Oh God…" she wrinkled her nose in disgust and stared at me. "How could you…"

"Emma, please, I'm sorry…" I was babbling, bright red with shame, my hands over my lap as I lost control of my bladder.

"Miss Reid!" she snapped and struck me across the cheek again. I lowered my head and apologised, still stunned by what I had done.

"Miss Reid, I don't know what happened!"

"Well I do – you obviously have infantile toilet problems. And I thought you were a man." She stood up. "We're leaving now. I have lost my appetite." I followed close behind her, covering my groin with a place menu as far as the door, babbling something incomprehensible that I can't remember any more. Outside it was now quite dark as Emma Reid strode towards her car. The heels of her sexy boots crunched the gravel underfoot. I stood there, feeling totally wretched as she unlocked the driver's door and paused before climbing in. The passenger door, I noticed, was still locked.

"I hope," she said, with the stern voice of an ice maiden, "that you don't suppose I'm going to allow you into my car in that state." It was a fair comment – my trousers were soaked and who knew when I'd need to pee again? She pointed at my black jeans. "Take them off."

"Here?" I looked around the parking lot. There were only a couple of cars present, belonging to the other couple and the staff, but other diners could turn up at any moment.

"Yes, here, unless you'd prefer to take them off inside the restaurant?"

What could I do? I was miles into the countryside. Under her stern gaze I stripped my jeans off and threw them on the ground. I stood there in my navy blue briefs and my off white shirt.

"And the pants. They're wet too."

There was nothing erotic about the way I felt as I undressed in front of Miss Reid. I cupped my hands modestly over my cock and balls for all the good it did me.

"I can't have you wetting yourself in my car again. Put these on." She found a bag inside on the backseat and handed it to me. Perhaps I should have questioned exactly what she was doing with an adult size diaper and pair of crinkly plastic incontinence pants in her car, but right then I wasn't thinking straight.

"You want me to put on a nappy?" I must have looked horrified at the thought as I unfolded the thick absorbent cloth.

"If you want me to drive you back, yes."

"But I don't know how to…" I unwrapped the nappy – I hadn't a clue how to put it round me. Emma stepped up and turned me round roughly with a hand in my hair.

"Cross your wrists behind your head," she said and I obeyed quickly. I stood there, terrified that someone might come out from the restaurant as she deftly wrapped the soft diaper around my loins and fastened it closed with Velcro strips. Then, ordering me to lift first one foot and then the next, she slid the plastic pants up over the diaper. The plastic crackled as I shifted weight on my feet, and the thickness of the diaper forced my thighs apart a little. The diaper felt snug and comforting in a way that didn't make sense at all. "Get in the car," she said and I did, as quickly as possible.

The drive back was excruciating, especially when it became clear that I needed to pee again. I held out as long as I could before I finally wet my diaper. I cried and Emma stared at me sharply. The car suddenly lurched to a halt as she placed her foot on the brakes.

"So you even cry like a baby." She opened the glove compartment and produced a rubber dummy with an elastic band attached to it. She forced it into my protesting mouth and stretched the elastic band over my head so that the dummy couldn't be pushed out. I was wearing a wet diaper with a baby's dummy in my mouth and I didn't have the nerve to take it out. "Not a sound until we get home."

Emma finally drove the car into the University car park. It was quite late, quite dark, and no one close enough to see me as I stepped out of her car. What if someone saw me like this? I made to take the dummy out of my mouth, but Emma slapped me hard and hissed in my ear. "You can walk home to your room in a diaper or you can change in my room. It's up to you." Given a choice like that I meekly followed Emma to the girl's dorm. Luck was with me as we entered the corridor, climbed the stairs and made it to Jill's door before anyone could see me. Once inside, Emma locked the door.

I whimpered, unable to speak with the rubber dummy in my mouth, and motioned towards the bathroom. For a third time this night my bladder was telling me I had to pee, and in the next minute or so. The wet diaper wouldn't stand for another soaking, that much I was sure of.

But Emma was intent on humiliating me one step further. She produced a large chamber pot, with the word 'Baby' written on the side. "If you wet yourself like a little baby girl, then you can pee like a little baby girl." She placed the pot on the floor and made it clear that I wasn't going to be using the toilet. I howled inside with frustration but I had to pee. I loosened the Velcro fastenings on the diaper, pulled it down around my ankles, plastic pants and all, and squatted on the potty with the rubber dummy still in my mouth, to pee. I didn't pay any attention to the fact that Emma was holding her mobile phone in her hand. I certainly didn't notice that it was one of the new models that could take digital photographs. Everything was working out according to plan for her. Emma produced a pink and white baby bonnet and tied it to my head while I peed. The camera phone took some more secret pictures before my bladder was finally empty. Then, I was frog marched to the bathroom and made to empty my potty in the toilet and flush the contents away.

Emma stood there in the doorway, looking down at me. I didn't know but she had just dialled the pictures away to another mobile phone in another building somewhere. "Now then, Robert," she said with an authoritative smile, "let me explain the new rules in your life…"

To be ctd.

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Cordellian. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.