A University Education

Dave put down the book he was reading and walked quickly over to his door as soon as he heard the gentle knock. He had no idea who'd want to speak to him at this time of night, as it was just coming up to midnight and most of his corridor-mates were out clubbing it still. It was quite peaceful on the corridor on Friday nights when not many other people were around. Still, as it was obviously far too late to be a TV licence inspector or one of the Uni cleaners moaning about the state their kitchen was in, he didn't have any qualms about seeing who it was.

"Hi!"

He was immensely pleased to discover that the happy, smiling face that greeted him was that of Kim.

"Hello Kim... Not out clubbing it tonight?"

She shook her head, her blond hair shaking around her shoulders, which Dave couldn't help but notice were encased in her gorgeously tight 'Squeeze Me, Tease Me, Please Me' t-shirt, which turned him on even more than he already had been just at the sight of her.

"I didn't fancy it tonight," she explained. "Listen, Dave, are you busy at the moment?"

"No, not at all," he replied, wondering what was going on and just why she'd come down here. Yes, they were good mates and they were often popping into each other's rooms – she often let him use her computer – but still, at this time of night...?

"Good... Do you have a few minutes to pop up to my room? There's something I want to talk to you about."

"You can come in, if you want," he enthused, holding the door opening and gesturing into his room.

"Do you mind if we go up to mine?" she asked sweetly. "It is... sort of important."

He didn't stop to wonder what it could be that was so important and why it was him she was choosing to share it with, he simply nodded.

"Sure, no problem, just let me grab my key..."

He ducked back into his room, found the key, locked his door and followed her up the stairs to her room, on a corridor two floors up. He could already feel the excitement as he followed her up the stairs, his eyes never leaving the gorgeous pair of legs that teased him as they elegantly emerged from under her oh-so-short little skirt...

She led him into her room without a word, and he didn't even think to comment when she was careful to lock the door behind them once she had made sure he was sitting down on her bed. He noticed that her computer was on, and wondered if she was having some sort of problem with it.

"So, Dave..." she breathed as she sat down at her chair in front of the computer. She was almost directly opposite him, and as she moved the chair a little to face him better and crossed her legs, he was sure that he caught a wonderful glimpse of the flimsy pink knickers she was wearing.

"Um... Yes?"

He shifted a little so that the bulge in his jeans wouldn't be quite so obvious. He had the odd feeling that he was being interviewed, and Kim had never acted in quite this way around him before.

"I was wondering if you could explain something for me?"

"Um, yeah, sure if I can..."

"I hope you can."

She smiled.

"Come and sit next to me here Dave," she said, pointing at a spot next to her on the floor. Not wanting to argue, he obeyed, kneeling next to her and looking at the computer screen as he supposed he was expected to. Her blank screen screensaver was on, so she hadn't touched the computer for a while. The aroma of her perfume as she sat just a few inches to his left was quite intoxicating, and kneeling as he was he couldn't help but realise he was about level with her gorgeous breasts...

"Have a look at this, Dave," she said, still smiling and seeming happy. She pressed the space bar and the screen flickered, before changing to show a website that he was all-too familiar with. The colour drained from his face and he felt weak at the knees. He almost thought he was going to be sick; it was as if the world had collapsed in on him. He wished it was a nightmare that he could wake up from, but he knew he couldn't.

Internet explorer was open, and it was displaying one of the websites he often used Kim's computer to look at: Literotica.

The page was open at one of his favourite stories, one about a man being forced to wear a girl's underwear.

"Kim, I..."

"Shhhh," she admonished, placing a finger to his lips. Despite the dire situation he found himself in, he felt himself get all the harder at her touch.

"You can explain, is that what you were going to say? You can explain why, if I take a little look at my history folder for the last few weeks, it's filled with stories on this site, all about guys wearing panties? You can explain why some of my favourite bras seem to have mysteriously lost their matching knickers recently? Oh, and perhaps while you're at it you can explain why a couple of weeks ago I found a disturbing little fleck of shit on my lovely vibrator?"

He tried to say something, but his throat was a messy lump of flesh from which no sound would emanate. He wondered why she sounded so calm and controlled about it all, instead of screaming and shouting and hitting him or something.

"You don't need to explain all that Dave," she added. "I think I can work it all out for myself."

"What... what do you want me to do?" he asked, staring up at her eyes, which looked impassively down at him. He felt suddenly inferior and submissive to her, and not simply because she was looking down at him. He knew she could make him a laughing stock, utterly humiliate him in front of everyone he knew here. She had the evidence, and besides which everyone would believe her even if she hadn't. He would have to drop out, have to leave. His life was ruined.

"Well let me see," she replied slowly, pretending to think about it for the first time. "You've stolen my underwear, and I think we can all guess what it is you do with it... You've used my computer to look at porn sites, and you've stuck my vibrator up your backside and fucked yourself silly with it. No doubt you've done that quite a few times and washed it rather more carefully afterwards. I rather think you're going to do anything I say from now on, don't you?"

A sudden hope appeared.

"You mean... You're not going to tell everyone?"

She grinned and ruffled his hair with her hand.

"Only if you're a very, very good boy...Tell me, have you done it wearing pairs that are still here? While I've let you be in my room, trusted you, let you have free reign, have you been beating your little meat in some knickers I've gone on to wear?"

"I..."

"The truth, Dave," she whispered, seeming for the first time consciously threatening.

"Yes," he replied, nodding miserably.

"I see."

She stood and walked across to her knicker draw, which she opened slowly, before standing back and crossing her arms. He couldn't help but notice how her wonderful breasts were accentuated by it...

"Show me," she said.

"I... I don't remember..."

She rolled her eyes.

"That many eh? All right then, show me your favourite pair. Favourite that you haven't stolen, I mean. The one that really gets you going when you feel it tight against your little balls..."

He gulped and, standing, moved across to the draw. He looked down at the collection of bras and knickers, all so smooth, so comforting, so exciting and enticing... He spotted the tiny light blue thong with 'Flirt' written across it in a racy black font, and he instantly reached down and pulled that one out, excited by the idea of the touch of it despite himself.

Kim was nodding approvingly.

"I can't say I'm surprised," she said. "Now, let me see."

He frowned, confused.

"I don't understand?"

She rolled her eyes again and leaned closer, her lips just a few centimetres away from his right ear. Was it his imagination, or could he feel a hard nipple pressing lightly against his chest through her t-shirt and bra?

"Put. It. On."

The whisper was harsh and delicate at the same time. She stood back, and he thought about arguing then one look at her made him think better of it at once. He unlaced his shoes, kicked them off, tore off his socks and hastily undid his jeans. He paused a moment when only his boxers remained on the lower half of his body, but she raised an expectant eyebrow and he pulled those off. His cock was hard and stuck out; she looked at it and smiled.

"It seems you've got a little more down there than I gave you credit for," she complimented. "Now – the thong."

He stepped into the flimsy material and pulled it up around his balls. His cock stuck out of it of course, but it felt so wonderful against his skin, and with the back going up into the crack of his backside so tightly...

"Feel good?"

"Yes..." he breathed.

She stepped closer and took the head of his cock gently in a ring of her thumb and forefinger, wanking his head softly as he half-closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"Good," she said. She stopped wanking him just as he was beginning to get incredibly excited, the pre-cum leaking from his throbbing head. "You and I are going to have great fun!" she whispered. Turning back to the draw, she reached in and pulled out the bra that matched the thong, a lacy light blue affair. As he watched her, she handed him the bra.

"Put that on too," she said.

"I..."

She gave him a look, and he did as he was told, struggling slightly with the catch at the back but eventually succeeding. As he did so, she reached down and picked up his discarded socks from the floor, scrunching them up into balls and placing one within each cup of the bra, before standing back to admire her handiwork.

"A little small," she mused. "But it'll do. Now, Dave... Dave..."

"Yes?"

"Quite, I wasn't talking to you silly, I was thinking... Now, Dave isn't much of a girls' name, is it?"

"Um... no?"

"No."

Why did he feel as if he was about to lose some of his identity to her? And why did the prospect excite him so utterly?

"Well you obviously like girlie things, so I think we need to give you a girlie name to go with your little bra and knickers, don't you? Yes, of course you do. Now, there isn't really a female version of Dave we can use, so how about... Hmmmm... Dana? Diana?"

He twitched slightly at the second name she mentioned, and she grinned very much in the manner of a cat.

"Oh yes, Diana... Mmmmm, nice and female, eh? Does that excite you, Diana? Do you like that?"

He nodded as she gently ran two of her fingers up and down the skin of his hard cock, gently teasing the underside of his sensitive head with one finger when she reached the top for the second time.

"Yes... Yes, I do. I'm... Diana."

She nodded approvingly.

"I'm glad to see you're getting into the swing of things. Now..."

She placed her hands around his waist and manoeuvred his willing, supple body around until he was standing in front of the sink in the corner of her room, looking at his reflection in the mirror. He looked thin and pale and he could see himself shaking for the first time, although he didn't know how long he had been doing it and whether it was from fear, or excitement, or cold or perhaps all three. The image of the bra around his chest excited him, as did the reflection of Kim's gorgeous face as she placed her chin on his left shoulder. Her hair was gently tickling his bare skin, and he could feel her taught nipples again, this time pressing into his back.

"How do you think you look, Diana?" she asked delicately, whispering into his ear.

He struggled for a suitable answer.

"Not... not anywhere near as beautiful as you," he tried, hoping he didn't sound to sycophantic. It was true though, she was stunning, and he... wasn't.

"Aw, thank you Diana," she replied, sounding genuinely touched although he couldn't tell how much of what she said was simply a show she was putting on for him. "But you're not so bad yourself you know, I mean you could be, with a bit of work..."

She stared at his image in the mirror.

"The hair," she said, running a hand through his short hair, "needs work. I mean, you'll have to let it grow longer. You'll do that for me won't you Diana?"

"Y-Yes, of course."

"Good good... I don't think we'll move onto make-up just yet, it's not worth it when your hair still makes you look so boyish, but I think a touch of lipstick, a little mascara, some eyeliner, could do wonders for you Diana."

He had never thought of any of these things before, her make-up had never held the slightest appeal to him even when he had been left in here alone with it so many times, but now...

He realised suddenly that her hand had moved out of his hair and had picked up a small bottle of some sort of oil or moisturiser or something of that sort from the edge of the sink. He wondered what she was doing with it, but before he had the chance to ask her he felt the back strong of his thong – his thong – being pulled aside and a single, lubricated finger slipped gently but firmly into his arsehole, working around, teasing, testing, playing. He gasped involuntarily and closed his eyes with the pleasure of it.

"No Diana," she admonished. "Look."

He opened his eyes and looked unto the mirror, and saw her stare at him as she continued to play his backside like an expert.

"Look at yourself Diana," she whispered, her head still on his shoulder. "And look at me. Think about who'd doing this to you. What's being done to you. You like this, don't you Diana?"

He couldn't lie.

"Yes."

"You love it, don't you?"

"Yes, I do..."

"Tell me Diana. Tell me what it is you love."

She was working him harder and harder now, massaging him, probing him, and he had to lean forward and place his hands on the edge of the sink to stop himself being pushed over.

"I love... I love your finger, inside me."

"What am I doing to you Diana?"

"I don't understand..."

A second finger was added, and he gasped again in surprise and delight, his body bent over more, submitting, being taken.

"Fucking!" he gasped. "You're fucking me..."

He glanced back up into the mirror and saw her grin.

"That's right Diana. You'd like a good, hard fucking, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"A proper fucking?"

"Yes!"

"You want me to pop that little cherry of yours, don't you Diana?"

"YES!"

She withdrew her fingers. He felt empty, a gaping hole not just in his backside but in his soul. He had been on such a high of pleasure as he had never felt before, and to have that taken was devastating. He feared for a moment that his shout had annoyed her, with the possibility of it having raised the attention of her corridor mates. He no longer cared about being discovered, he realised – he cared only about being her girl, and being fucked by her.

"Open wide," she whispered suddenly, kicking his right leg out to the side. He did as he was told and spread his legs, leaning even further over the sink, his head bowed. Then suddenly he felt it – the tip of her vibrator. It had gone in before of course by his own hand, but God it had never felt anywhere near as good as it did now.

"Is that what you wanted?" she said.

"Yes... God yes..."

She worked it in only an inch or so at first, then almost completely out, then in again a little deeper, and then shallower, and so on and so on... She worked it playfully, teasingly, giving him almost satisfaction but not quite...

"Look at me," she whispered.

He looked up into the mirror. She stared coldly back at him.

Then she rammed the vibrator as far as she could into him, and turned it on.

He couldn't help it, he cried out in pleasure, and looked down again, but she smacked his backside hard.

"Look at me!" she commanded. He looked up. "Look at who's doing this to you!"

She carried on moving the vibrator in and out, in and out, fucking him hard and fast, almost brutally. But he didn't care. He adored the feeling. When he was almost there she reached around with her free hand and took his cock firmly in her grasp, wanking him furiously.

"Who are you?"

"D... Diana!"

As he cried out his new name he came, his cum splattering against the door of the cupboard under her sink, and his backside spasming and contracting so hard he almost pulled the vibrator into it. She switched it off and worked it out gently, before kissing him on the cheek as he leaned forward, breathing hard, sweaty and exhausted but utterly, utterly happy.

"Good girl," she simpered. "Good girl... You know what Diana? I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship..."