The Diaries of Ayesha

Those words are from Hudson Hawk an unjustly criticized film starring Bruce Willis and Danny Aiello in a modernized version of a Bob Hope - Bing Crosby Road to (Fill in the blank) movie.

The film defies logic but most of old Road pictures did too, which is why I have a special fondness for them.

Every once in awhile though my passion for "bad" cinema backfires and this is a case in point

The Mistress was working on a film project and was lamenting the quality of the script as being mostly a string of cliches with no real story behind it.

"Is it really that bad?" I asked.

She responded by throwing the script to me and after reading a few pages I was inclined to agree with her evaluation.

"It's not all bad, " I assured her.

"Michael…" she warned.

"No, seriously. What you have here is an old fashioned melodrama with a stalwart hero, a damsel in distress and a twisty mustachioed villain. The only thing missing is the Dudley Do-right kind of theme music."

"Which I am being called upon to write," she reminded. " I just can't get my head around the story as a whole."

"Try not to think about it as a story, think about it as a cartoon. Look, what I do when I can't get a story to work properly for the Diaries I try and act it out and make sure that no matter how silly it seems that it still rings true."

"I don't even have any footage to look at for reference Michael."

I smiled.

"I can fix that in a trice, if you'll permit me to gather a few things from my film archives and bring them over."

"I'm probably going to regret this later, but all right, " she assented.

The next day I returned with selections from Hudson Hawk, Dudley Do-Right, The Perils of Penelope, The Great Race, and Road to Zanzibar and Road to Morocco, as well as some clips from Fractured Flickers.

She listened to the music, laughed at the appropiate parts and thanked me for my efforts.

"Now I have a better idea of what sort of music you'd write for something like this kind of script," she said flipping through the pages slowly.

"It's not Shakespeare for sure, but as they say, that's show biz," I agreed. "Or as Harlan Ellison put it, I don't care if it's good, I need it by Tuesday."

"Well I have a little more time than that, but I should get started on it," she advised. "If I need your help with anything, will you be available this weekend?"

"Of course Mi'lady. Just let me know where and when," I agreed.

"I will," she said and then kissed me on the cheek." Thank you for the film clips."

I left the house smelling slightly of her perfume with a smile on my face caused by a combination of film clips and love for the Mistress.

A few days later I received a phone call from the Mistress directing me to come to the house and be prepared to spend a couple of days in her service.

"Is there anything special I need to bring?" I asked.

"No, just yourself will be enough," she advised.

"Yes Mistress," I agreed.

I arrived at the house later that evening and was surprised to find a roast chicken dinner waiting for my arrival.

"What's the occasion?" I asked sitting at the candle lit table where she indicated.

"It's been awhile since we had a quiet dinner together so I thought it might nice for a change," she explained." Would you open the champagne please?"

I reached for the chilled bottle and smiled reading the label indicating the contents were Barefoot Bubbly.

" I see you remembered," I said pouring a bit into my glass to sample it and then filling hers.

"Of course I remembered," she smiled. "With a name like that, how could I not remember."

She granted me the carving duties for the meal, so I set to serving us both a portion of white meat and vegetables.

"How is the composition going?" I asked as we dined.

"Reasonably well thanks to your help," she replied." I'm using one of your working habits to help."

"Really?" I replied. "Which one?"

"You'll see soon enough," she demurred. "Drink up, there's plenty more champagne when that's done."

I did as I was told and she turned the conversation to other topics while we finished eating the main course.

Dessert was fresh strawberries with yet more champagne and while we were sampling them, the Mistress took out her cigarette holder and indicated I should light her smoking material.

I did and she drew deeply from it and blew the fragrant smoke into my face making me slightly dizzy.

As always I felt my will slipping away watching her smoke, seeing the black ebony of the holder against her ruby lips as a contrast to her pale skin.

"Keep watching me pig. It fascinates you. The smoke makes you so sleepy and relaxed," she intoned. "Focus on my lips and the smoke."

I did as I was told and soon her face started to blur and the lights went out.

Or at least I did.

When I opened my eyes I found myself staring at blue sky, framed by tall pine and redwood trees and a fringe of golden strands of hair which startled me somewhat. I started to move and discovered I was tied down rather uncomfortably to a section of railroad track.

"Awake now my pretty?" I heard the Mistress cackle evilly and she stepped into view dressed in black, including a cape, top hat and a mustache with a cigar jutting out of her mouth.

"You refused me," she snarled " And now you will pay for it."

She reached inside the cape and pulled out a mirror and held it so I could see I was now dressed in a dress with a blond wig, my face made up, and lashed to the rails with a stout rope.

"Release me you fiend!" I demanded in a high pitched voice, getting into the scene.

"Not unless you submit to my desires," she laughed taking the cigar out of her mouth and tossing it away.

In the distance I could hear an old fashioned steam whistle and felt a vibration through the rails.

"Never!' I cried. "I will never submit to your perverted urges."

The whistle grew closer and the rumble of the engine became more apparent.

I turned my head towards the sound and saw smoke rising from behind the trees.

"You don't have much time to decide," the Mistress advised cruelly. "In a few minutes you'll be beside yourself."

I struggled against the ropes but with her usual efficiency it was pointless.

"I would rather die than submit to you," I protested, still remaining in character.

"Your choice," she said and walked out of my sight as the whistle blew louder.

It was no longer smoke alone I was seeing, but the face of the engine itself as it rounded a curve and headed for where I was trussed up, only a few hundred yards away and closing fast.

I remembered one of those nasty little statistics that observed that the distance it takes to stop a loaded train is a mile or more and struggled harder against my bonds.

"Change your mind yet little girl?" I heard the Mistress call from a short distance away.

"All right you villain, you win. Do what you will with me, just release me" I agreed.

I heard her laugh and then she stepped back into view.

"I don't think so," she sneered. "You're just saying that, but you don't really mean it."

I heard the rumble of steel wheels and the pounding of the drivers and shot a glance towards the sound. I could see the engineer leaning out the window of the cab staring at me and the steam as it shot from the whistle as he blew it repeatedly in warning.

"Any minute now," she announced.

The rumble of the engine shook the ground and the noise rose to a deafening roar, the whistle screaming in terror to match my own.

I closed my eyes, not knowing what to expect and was then enveloped in a cloud of dust, soot and steam as the engine passed.

But not over me.

I opened my eyes and looked towards the departing sounds in time to see that it was on a track separated from the one I was tied to by a small depression and about 20 feet.

I looked into the amused eyes of the Mistress who drew out another cigar and lighted it by striking the match on her boot , then puffing away in satisfaction.

"I believe you said you would submit to me as I desired," she said airily, blowing smoke towards me.

I didn't say anything in reply, just nodded weakly, realizing for the first time that I'd wet my panties in panic as a result of her torment.

She drew a Bowie knife from inside the cloak and quickly slashed the bonds restraining me to the rails and levered me to a kneeling position, my hands and feet still bound.

"Now my slave I expect your best work," she intoned and unzipped her pants, and drew out her long black dildo. "Suck my cock."

I took it into my mouth and gazed up at her as she took another drag off the cigar and sighed in happiness, glad to be serving the woman I loved.

Even if she did look like Snidely Whiplash.

Chapter 32 Sections 1 to 6
Pass Me By
Vive la Compagnie
Bubbles in the Wine
Merry Birthday To You
Japanese Banana
I'm Not a Very Good Damsel in a Dress Am I