A Messy Makeup, by email@example.com (m/f, messy play, pies, sex)
Jake checked his cart one more time. Did he have everything he needed? He wanted to make sure that this night was something Sara would really love. He felt so bad about forgetting their anniversary, even though Sara had said it was okay. So he decided to makeup for it by setting up a night of messy play. He had planned it all out, was buying the suppyies now, and would go back to their place and set it up. It had been a couple months since he actually had surprised her with a good gunging, and she always loved it when he did.
Jake picked up one more can of whipped cream before he checked out, then went back to the apartment. He put the chocolate cream pies and whipped cream he had boughten in the fridge, to keep them cool till Sara got home, and placed the rest of the materials on the kitchen counter. Three cans of chocolate frosting, three cans of vanilla, 5 bags of brownie batter, 2 french vanilla cake mixes, plus the 4 pies in the fridge, and 2 cans of whipped cream. “Ya, this is enough to get Sara dripping in goo” Jake thought with a big smile on his face.
He went to work covering the kitchen and dinning room floors with the clear plastic painters tarps they kept around for these occasions, making sure to lead a trail off to the bathroom for afterwards. Looking down at his watch Jake realized time had slipped away from him, and Sara should be home any minute now. He quickly arranged the supplies on the counter so he would have easy access to them, then hurried into the bedroom to get himself ready.
Sara’s key jiggled in the lock, a second later she opened the door to the apartment and walked in. As she hung up her jacket she felt those oh so familiar arms wrap around her waist, and those soft lips she loved so much gently kiss the back of her neck. She felt something else too though, something slick touching the top of the back of her legs. Sara turned around to find Jake wearing nothing but a pair of black, tight, plastic briefs, and a big grin on his face.
“Got something planned hmmmmmm?” Sara asked with an inquisited look on her face.
“You bet I do!” Jake quickly responded. “I know our anniversay was yesterday, and you said it was okay that we didn’t do anything, but it’s really not. I wanna celebrate our love for one another… and have some fun doing it too.”
Sara looked at Jake with a smile spreading across her face, “wanna help me with my zipper? I know you already have my outfit waiting”
Jake let out a little chuckle, then *very slowly helped Sara take off her clothing, and even got in a few gropes as they headed back to the bedroom to put her outfit on. Jake dressed her in a white plastic tunic top and clear plastic panties. They stood in the bedroom for a bit, hugging and kissing. Letting their plastic outfits rustle against one another. Jake finally pulled away from the kiss and took Sara’s hand in his, then lead her out to the dinning room.
Sara lay on the plastic covered dinning room table, waiting for Jake to return from the kitchen. Jake finally appeared in the entry way to the room, holding a very large bowl. “So, is there a theme to this night?” Sara asked.
“Well, most couples share some kind of cake or dessert for their anniversary, so I figured we could just make each other into some instead” Jake grinned as he replyed back to her. “Oh goodie, does this mean I get to get you back good?” Sara asked with a gleam in her eye.
“Yup” Jake answered with a smile. “I got enough stuff for you to have your way with me.”
Sara giggled at that, but her giggling turned into a gasp when Jake poured the contents of his bowel, the french vanilla cake mix, down her tunic. Slowly he spread it around her chest and stomach with his hands on top of the plastic. Sara closed her eyes and just consitrated on the goo running over her erect nipples, and slidding down her back. She just laid there, eyes still closed, for a while, until she realized Jake was gone. She opened her eyes again to see him re-entering the room, carring 3 containers of frosting. He placed them on the table and opened each one. Then grinned down at Sara before he placed a hand in one jar and scooped out almost all of its contents. Slowly, mathotically, he spread it across the white plastic covering her chest, gentely playing with her nipples through the plastic. While scooping up another handful of frosting, Jake leaned in and softly kissed Sara then before their lips parted, he smeared the contents of his hand all over her plastic clad crotch. Sara broke the kiss, letting out a moan as she did so. Jake moved down her body more and carefully finished spreading the frosting on, till she had a nice layer covering all of the plastic. Then giving her a quick kiss, Jake said he would be right back.
When he returned both his hands were behind his back. He leaned down and placed something on the ground, but Sara coun’t see what. When he stood back up, she could very clearly see the whip cream can in his hand. He popped the top, and slowly spelled out “Happy Anniversary” on top of the frosting. When he was done he smiled big, leaned in and kisssed Sara very passionately. When their lips finally parted he whispered to her “Happy Anniversary Sara, I love you” and then grabbed his camera and stood up to take a picture.
“Oh I knew you couldn’t resist” Sara laughed.
“You know it.” Jake replied. But after taking only one picture he put the camera down. “Wait, somethings missing.”
“What?” Sara asked with a puzzled look on her face.
At that Jake leaned down and picked up the object he had placed on the floor earlier. Sara got just a glimps of the chocolate cream pie before Jake smeared it into her face, and very slowly removed the tin. Carefully, Sara cleaned off her eyes and mouth, then a big grin spread across her face and all she said was “Cheese!!” at that Jake clicked off a few more pictures, then helped Sara off the table… it was her turn now.
Jake laid impatiently on the kitchen table, blindfolded. Sara had covered his eyes with a scarf to keep him in a bit more suspence since he already knew the supplies she had to work with. He heard her squishy footsteps approach from the kitchen. Next thing he knew he could feel the coolness of the brownie batter flowing into his briefs. Slowly inching its way down around his erect member. Sara smiled at the low moans that were coming from Jakes mouth as she finished pouring. She smiled big at her work, and trotted off to the kitchen for more supplies. When she came back into the room, Jake was still squirming on the table, brownie batter ozzing out of the plastic briefs. She popped open the three containers of chocolate frosting, and scooped out all the contents onto his chest. Then, with both hands, she *very slowly spread it all over. Carressing and massaging his chest as she did so. Tracing over his nipples with her chocolate covered fingers, sliding her palms down across his belly button. Turning his chest into a layer of milk chocolate frosting.
Jake heard the lid to the other bottle of whip cream being popped off, as Sara slowly started writing with it on his chest.
“It was our anniversary Jake.” She said to him. “So I want everyone to know your mine.” Right after Jake stopped hearing the can spraying, he heard the click of the polaroid camera they had… then felt Sara’s soft lips press to his and he eagerly contributed to a deep, passionate kiss. When she parted from his lips, she removed his blindfold and handed him the polaroid. He could see what she had written on his chest, and laughed as he read the word “Taken! Boy Toy! Sara’s Sex Slave!” And the writing on his crotch read “Sara’s binki” A huge smile spread across Jake’s mouth when he saw that, he looked up and saw Sara smiling too. He only got a to see her beautiful smile for a second though, before Sara planted one of the pies into Jake’s face and rubbed it in before removing the tin. He waited a few seconds before cleaning off his eyes and mouth. When he was done he opened his eyes just in time to see Sara disapear into the kitchen again.
Sara turned around from the fridge with one of the last 2 pies in her hand, and found Jake standing right behind her. “Got plans for that?” He asked as he placed a finger in it and sucked the contents off.
“Ya I do, I was gonna smear this one all over your head, unless you have a better idea.” Sara grinned at him.
“Actually, I do.” Jake replyed and took the pie in Sara’s hand, and the other one from the fridge, and placed them on the counter. Then he placed both of his hands on the neck of Sara’s tunic, and with one quick motion, riped it from her body. Before she even had a chance to say anything, Jake had her pressed to him, lips locked to one another. Just as Sara got really into it though, he pulled away.
“All the frosting was on the plastic.” He said. “Now that its gone, your chest needs something more.” At that he picked up both of the pies, and with a huge grin planted both onto her chest, rubbing them in. After throwing the tins to the side, he laid Sara onto the kitchen floor and stradled her as he slowly rubbed the pie contents around a bit. Sara moaned as he massaged her chest with his hands. The coolness of the pies caused her nipples to get errect quickly, and upon feeling them Jake leaned down and began to suck softly on her right breast. After cleaning that one off, he moved over to her left. Then slowly up her neck to her lips where they engaged in another passionate kiss. By now both were quite turned on, so when the kiss broke this time, both knew what the reason was for. Sara leaned down and ripped Jake’s briefs on. Quickly, she went to work on licking all the brownie batter off of his hard member. When she was done, slowly, she licked her way back up to his lips and softly kissed him. Now it was Jakes turn. He made fast work of her panties in the same maner the he had done her tunic. And in a minute his tongue had her crotch pretty well clear of the vanilla cake mix. He looked up at Sara, her wanting eyes were all the sign he needed. Jake slide back up her body, wrapped his arms around her, and slid himself inside. Both let out moans in unison, and made passionate love there on the kitchen floor, coming together. Slowly, Jake slid off of Sara’s body, and lay next to her cuddling.
Sara rolled over and softly kissed Jake, then looked deep into his eyes. “I love you”
“I love you too.” Jake replyed smiling at her. “Happy anniversay darling.”
Sara smiled back “This was a great makeup hon. But what are you gonna do if you miss another anniversary?”
“Well, guess I’ll just have to think of something better then this to make up for that then.” Jake said.
“Hmmmm… I’ll decide in the shower if you forgetting our anniversary is really a bad thing.” Sara giggled. Then she took Jake’s hand and they walked off to the bathroom, the gunge that had dripped its way down to their feet squishing on the plastic as they went.
Leaving Day Present ===================
Samantha had worked at the same office for well over three years and decided that it was time for a change. Thoughts of her leaving day and well deserved break before starting her new job filled her mind. She was a pretty girl, standing about 5′ 5″ tall with a neatly cut long, blonde bob and piercing blue eyes. Although her face was rounded she was none the less attractive and always made the boys heads turn when she wore her favourite short skirts. On her leaving day Samantha was smartly dressed in a ribbed, white bodysuit which did nothing to hide her ample chest and lacy white bra beneath, a way-above the knee, wrap-around lime green skirt and matching jacket. Her lovely long tanned legs were set off rather nicely by a sytlish pair of black suede high heels. Much to Samantha’s disgust she had heard rumours about what happened when people left the company. Apparentlty one girl had a bucket of custard tipped over her and another had been assulted with a rather large cheesecake! The thought of this made poor Samantha quivver all over…
Come late afternoon everyone in the office had gathered around Samantha’s desk in order to give her a really big send off. After all she was a very popular girl. However, her boss, a rather plump middle aged woman called Linda, asked if everyone would like to step outside the building to watch her recieve her leaving present. Poor Samantha feared the worst…
It was a warm summer’s day outside so she felt rather comfortable just standing their in the cool breeze. Her worse fears, however, were confirmed when Sarah, one of the typists, walked from the building carrying what looked like a huge white cake. As Sarah approached Samantha became aware of the fact that it was not a cake, but indeed layer uopn layer of thick oozey white icing. Samantha shivvered with anticipation of what might happen to her. The cardboard plate that the huge cake sat upon must have been about 10 inches in diameter and maybe topped with cream filling a foot deep. Suddenly Linda spoke…
“Well we’d all like to thank you for all of the effort you have put in over the last three years Samantha, as as a token of our gratitude we love to present you with this lovely whipped cream pie”
Much to her amazement she was mearly handed the pie by Sarah.
“Why don’t you have a carefully look at it”, quipped Linda.
With that Samantha peered right in close to the surface of the pie. In tiny letter the following words were etched in icing.
“Ha! Ha! Got you!”
Without any warning Sam felt a hand raise the pie’s dish and before she could even screw up her little button nose the pie made contact with her face. Due to the depth of the pie it felt like an eterntiy before the thick cream stopped squeezing all over her face and hair.
She gasped as the sweet, sticky filling mashed and oozed all over her pretty face and shuddered as a huge lump of soft cream broke away from the mass of goo covering her face and plopped silently over her chest and deep womanly cleavage. Just for good measure the person pieing poor Sam began to rub the pie dish, first all around her face and then over her shiney blonde locks. By the time the dish had lost it’s adhesion pretty Samantha’s head was nothing more than a creamy wasteland of fluffy, white pie filling. Very softly and femininely she raised her fingers to her face and gently wiped the cream from her eyes. All she could see was a lot of blurred collegues laughing at her. Poor Samantha turned bright red, but this was not really evident beneath her white creamy face pack. She felt humiliated, but the fun was far from over…
It just so happened that the company she was leaving made cosmetics and soap. One bright spark in the warehouse struck upon the idea of using one of the huge plastic container to gunge her with! But, with what? Evetually it was decided that the contained was to be filled with 5 gallons of very thick, green shampoo! After the vesel was filled it was placed next to the slightly weary looking Samantha. Linda piped up again.
“Sorry about that Samantha, what say we give you a nice hair wash to get all of that pie out?”
Samantha, screamed with shock as suddenly a huge bucket of freezing water was hurled mercilessly at her. It managed to drench her tight bodysuit and skirt, but did little to clean her cream face and blonde locks. Poor Samantha was beginning to wish she’d choosen a darker colour bra and top than white as her busty outline began to push through the sodden tight material.
“No, it’s not working!”, sighed Linda “We’ll have to use the shampoo!”
The whole of the office staff went deadly quite as two of the warehouse men picked up the heavy looking container full of stiff green goo and began to raise it just above her head.
“Ready for your hairwash?”, laughted Linda
Poor Samamtha let out a tiny little squeal as the cold, gooey liquid started to poor thickly all over her head. With her eyes and mouth tightly shut her whole head very rapidly began to become emerced in the flowing wave of green ooze. It wasn’t long before the shampoo had found a natural path down Samantha’s once beautiful blonde locks and then over her shoulders. If she had fears about the bucket of water exposing her breasts through her tight top and white bra, then she’d have been twice as shocked to see what her male collegues were feasting their eyes on. The slippery shampoo was now starting to engulf her bodysuit, thickly rolling down the outline of her ample chest. The clingy white bodice and bra was now nearly transparent.
Eventually the flow of cold gooey liquid above her ceased and Samantha slowly reached up with her hands to slick back her long blonde hair. Again she wiped the goo from her eyes with her fingers and peered out to see people laughing and pointing at her. What was even worse was the fact that although her gunging had finished the flow of shampoo running down her body was beginning to engulf her short skirt. Samantha wiggled her legs slightly in order to shake some off, but her lovely lime green skirt was stuck fast to her thighs and bottom. Resinging her self to the slippery mess she just remained still as the runny goo effortlessly made it path down her shapley legs, forming a large puddle of green liquid around her shoes.
“Are you OK?”, asked Linda quietly.
“I don’t know…”, sobbed poor Samantha looking up mornfully. “How am I ever going to get cleaned up?”
“Don’t worry!”, replied Linda. “It’ll all wash out and we have some spare clothes for you to change into afterwards.
Samantha now felt a little better about her leaving present, but was still fearful about what was next to come.
“So, what happens next?”, she equired
“We have to show you off to everyone. It would be a shame for everyone to miss the fun!”, smiled Linda.
Samantha felt a little confused at this, but all became clear as one of the warehouse men approached her pushing a large wheelbarrow. To her shock it was filled to the brim with even more green, mushy liquid soap.
“Climb in!”, ordered Linda
Very slowly Samantha lowered her lovely little bottom towards the soft, green mess and pushed it firmly down. Steadying herself she grabbed hold of the side of the barrow and got herself as comfy as possible. All of the time she could feel the wet liquid soap squeezing around her legs and skirt. Quite a lot of it oozed past her fingers as displacement forced a great wave of the stuff down the sides of the barrow. Eventually, after a bit of squirming about she was ready.
How everyone cheered as she was wheeled around the office complex squeling and kicking her legs with embarrassment. Many of the people there couldn’t believe what they were seeing. A smartly dressed office girl completely smeared in pie and soap having the ride of her life. By the time Samantha climbed out of the barrow the back and bottom of her outfit was just a wash with the soft, green liquid.
What a day it had been!
At the crack of dawn Sunday, Debra woke me up with a pitcher of ice cold tea which she poured all over me. The bed has a rubber sheet on the bottom so I was left lying in a puddle of cold water. I rolled over and got completely soaked getting up. As I stood in front of her she took a big blob of marshmellow and stuffed it in my bra and massaged my boobs until it spread.
After breakfast we went to the super market for groceries and some “other stuff.” We bought Karo Syrup, bannanas from the bargain rack, soft and gooey. Also pudding and yougert. On the way out she stopped and bought two huge cream pies (12″ by about 8″) and had them bagged seperatly. I asked her what they were for because we have a whole bunch at home.
“None of your business,” She answered. “You will find out soon enough.” I did.
As we went to our car Debra stopped me and said, “Drop em!” I was mortified, but did as I was told even though I was beet red and ashamed. However it was exciting even though I was terribly embarressed. She took one of the pies, aluminum plate and all and pushed it down my panties and I had to drive home. It felt so good and I now know why I love Debra so.
When we got home we cleaned and than went for a walk in the park and I still had the pie in my panties. Every once in a while a piece would fall down my leg and soon I had a convoy of dogs following us. After the walk we went home and had lunch, which consisted of pasta and sauce and baked beans and brown bread, which as you can guess is on me and in my bra, panties, stockings and shoes.
After lunch Debra announced that I was to have the beautiful cream pie for dessert.
“Oh wow,” I said, “when can I have it?”
“Right now,” was the answer. She ordered me to my knees and placed the pie on the floor in front of me but just out of reach. “There you are, sweetheart,” she said and added, “you must not move forward and place your hands behind your back”. I did so and she quickly put handcuffs on my wrists. As I stretched to get at the pie I lost my balance, she put it just out of reach, and went face first into the pie. I struggled to get up but she said I had to finish it before she would unshackle me. I struggled with the pie and even got my hair a mess as I rolled around trying to finish it.
After dessert I was allowed to clean up and change my clothes. Later on in the day some of Debby’s friends came over for a card game. I was told to dress nicely so that the friends wouldn’t be insulted. So I wore a dress suit with a V-necked blouse and stockings, garter belt and lovely black shoes. As I was to serve the ladies sat down and played and I rushed around taking there orders. Soon I spilled a little of a drink on one of the ladies and Debby took me over to the sideboard where the pies were and told me, “Don’t you spill another drop!!!” Then she took one of the pies and put it down my blouse and boobs. I went back to serving and soon some pie fell on another of the ladies and I received another pie. The messier I got the more I soiled the guests the more pies I got. Soon the pies were gone and we finished the Afternoon with choclate syrup and carmel topping. As the afternoon ended I was deleriously happy and had a wonderful Sunday.
This morning my friend Debra came over to help with housecleaning. She is very industrious and set right to work. Soon she found five over-ripe bananas, all black and soft. She went to her car and brought back a diaper and made me put it on and said, “You must wear this until I come back tomorrow. Maybe in the AM but maybe not till night time.” Then she stuffed the bananas in the diaper and made me sit on the chair.
After we mopped the floor and dusted she decided to cook. Soon we had pasta, tomato sauce and were working on dessert. I asked what kind of dessert and she told me to mind my own business and to kneel. She put pasta and sauce down the front of my panties and then realising what she had done, quickly took most out, put it in the bowl and fed me lunch. As I ate my lunch she mixed up batter for a cake and poured it into the baking dish.
She had a lot left over and when I made fun of her about it she poured the rest over my head, ruining my hair do and dripping down inside my dress and around my boobs. “There, that will teach you,” she said. “Any more of that and I’ll really get you.”
Unfortunatly it is raining today and she had me take out the garbage and as I walked down the back path and fell headlong into the muddy path. From head to foot I was mud. Debra took me inside and gave me a new set of clothes including lingerie (bra, bloomers, and slip) that were too tight for me. She insisted I wear them; I struggled to put them on. The panties squished the bananas in my diaper and she put more sauce down the front.
Wow, I am a mess, but really excited. She has gone to get some cream pies and promisises a real tough time tomorrow whenever she gets here. Until then, LauriPi
This story is about a session I made today in a girls’ school uniform. If this freaks you out, I apologise; read on and I’ll explain.
First of all, I am not a transvestite. I have never attempted to pass for, or feel like, a girl; I have never worn full underwear and make-up, and don’t wear a wig; I’m only interested in the feel of the clothes, and how they react to getting wet and messy; it makes women in WAM situations, like the ones I draw and write about, easier to visualise realistically if I’ve experienced the clothing first hand. Some cross-dressers create a female alter ego for when they dress up; while there is some of my personality in most of my characters (Sandra is the closest I have to a female alter ego) I have never attempted to become any of them. I am totally comfortable with my sexuality.
In various chat-rooms I discovered I was not the only male wammer to have tried such experiments; I’ve spoken to a lot of others who have done so, but who are shy in admitting it until they realise there are many others, and that it doesn’t mean they’re gay (I started experimenting as an adolescent because I was starting to harbour fantasies about some of the girls at school, and experiencing their clothing made the fantasies better..). I personally was extremely shy about it myself until I spoke to Tarisha Jay (see Links page) and a few others. Since then I’ve met many more who are in the closet about it, but who are glad of the chance to discuss it once they know they aren’t alone.
It’s from speaking to these people, and from the development of my WAM artwork and stories (there were some ideas I wanted to try before writing or drawing), that I decided to do another cross-dressed session. I hadn’t done so in some time, mainly due to the difficulty of obtaining the clothes. My last cross-dressed session was last summer, whilst visiting my parents, in clothes borrowed from the attic; the Cleaning Spree story on my website is based on that session.
I decided on a school uniform for two reasons; firstly, as you may have noticed from this site, I’ve a particular fondness for wet school uniforms; it was my favourite WAM costume as a teen, and a focus for my c/dressing experiments at the time (see WAM Secrecy). Secondly, it’s an easier outfit to go and buy, as it happens to be a popular fancy dress costume, especially in a student dominated area like where I live.
I spent an afternoon going round charity shops; in each, I sheepishly told the lady behind the counter that I needed a girl’s school uniform for a party. Of course, they thought the sight of this obviously embarrassed man shopping for female attire hilarious and were really keen to help, even going out to the back to see if anything suitable had just come in. At first, I was really embarrassed, but that was OK, it fitted the story. As I went round more shops, my confidence grew, and I started joking about it.
As valentine’s day was approaching, several students were out shopping for crazy clothes for various parties, so my shopping for a girls’ uniform wasn’t out of place. I ended up meeting the same groups of people around the shops, including a group of girls who I’d first met when I was trying some skirts; they were looking for loud, bad taste outfits for their party. The assistant asked why no-one ever dressed pretty for parties anymore. “Hey, I’m dressing pretty,” I said.
From various shops, I finally assembled the following; a calf length grey skirt; a pair of black tights; a navy and light blue striped school tie and a navy jumper, with a logo on the chest. I decided to wear one of my own shirts rather than get a blouse, and was unfortunately unable to find a suitable pair of shoes in my size, but by now I had what I’d come for.
I tried everything on at home; the loose calf length skirt felt great dry, and I was to find it felt even better wet. It was made of knitted acrylic, with a nylon lining that felt great against the legs, and made wearing tights with it totally unnecessary. I matched it with the navy jumper, blue tie and one of my own white shirts. The uniform looked and felt great, and I couldn’t wait to gunge it. I had to hand a few cans of shaving foam and a bottle of green foam bath, but decided it would be so much better to save the outfit for a much bigger, more special wamming.
The next morning I had some things to sort out in town; all the time I was looking forward to the gunging that awaited when I made it home. I stopped by at the supermarket and bought a carton of custard, three cans of cream of tomato soup, and a bottle of lemonade. I headed home to get started.
I changed into the school uniform, opened the cans and took everything into the bathroom. I filled the bottom of the bath with shaving foam and foam bath, leaving it ankle deep in green slime. I sat down in the bath; the gunge wrapped around my ankles and bottom, and I could feel it as a soft, slimy layer beneath my skirt. I took the carton of custard and poured it carefully over my head, letting it run down my face, around my shoulders and feeling it slop down my front into my lap. Some went in my mouth; it tasted sweet and creamy. Ready-made custard has now joined shaving foam on my list of essential WAM substances; this felt great.
I poured the tomato soup over my head and shoulders and stood up to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. Some of the cold soup mixed with the custard and went into my mouth – surprisingly enough they didn’t taste too bad together. I loved the sight in the mirror; there was a cascade of yellow and red from my head and shoulders, running down my jumper, in lines down the skirt and dripping with loud splotts into the green slime in the bath. I spread the custard and soup more evenly around my jumper, took the two-litre bottle of lemonade and sat back down. Now there may be some messy purists wondering about my use of lemonade; you may think it would just wash me off, get me too clean. Read on…
As I opened the bottle, I was slightly disappointed that it didn’t fizz up out of the bottle; maybe I should have shaken it up some more. But when I poured it all over, I loved the fizzy feeling of it hitting my body and clothing, the way it finally soaked the uniform through to the skin, and in particular the way it mixed with the creamy custard, shaving foam and soup to make a reddish brown, frothy, creamy liquid gunge in the bath. This turned out to be the best gunge I’ve made; smooth, slimy, viscous, sweet smelling and looks fantastic on clothing. The skirt was soaking up the gunge brilliantly, with a lot trapped between the skirt and the lining, so a single wring would bring loads of slime frothing back down into the bath.
I played in the mixture for some time; I’ll have to remember that recipe… shaving foam, foam bath, ready made custard, cream of tomato soup and the final, secret ingredient that brought it all together; lemonade. By this time, the bath was very messy, and I was ready to move on. So I turned on the taps and topped up the bath with warm water, ending with a bath of gooey red liquid topped with a light green creamy, foamy residue.
I spent some time trying different things, checking the reaction of the different parts of the uniform to the water, observing the way the skirt billowed as I sat down or slid into the water, and how easily came back up out of the water when I got out. While I had worn skirts in the bath before as a teenager, it was great to remind myself of the way they behave in water, which I can work into future stories and artwork.
Finally I pulled the plug and let the water drain away around by body, feeling it pulling down on my skirt and jumper as it went. I got up, releasing the last of the liquid trapped under my back and shoulders, and pulled round the shower curtain. If you’ve ever tried clothed showers and baths before, you’ll know that they are two very different experiences, with different feelings and effects according to the outfit. In this case, the school uniform felt tremendous under the shower, as I washed the gunge out of my hair, rinsed out my jumper, shirt and tie, completely soaking it with warm water, took the shower from the holder and trained it on my skirt. Having thoroughly rinsed the skirt, I lifted the hem and rinsed around the lining.
When I finally switched the shower off, the warm, saturated uniform felt fantastic; I stood there for some time, savouring the feeling, not wanting to take off the wet clothes and end the experience. In the end I wrung out the excess water from the skirt and just kept the wet clothes on as I cleaned up the bathroom and threw out the empty cans, stepping back into the bath every now and then to wring off more excess water that was dripping to the floor.
The tidy up complete, I went into my room. Hell, I still didn’t want to take the wet clothes off yet; while the water had cooled, my body heat was warming the damp clothes, and with the heater on, I wasn’t feeling too cold, so I decided to keep the wet uniform on for a few hours; I’m still wearing it now as I write this account, plastic bags on the computer chair and on the floor to catch any dripping and a towel to hand to keep my hands dry for typing. And the feeling of the damp clothes, warmed by my body heat and drying whilst wearing them is a brilliant end to a memorable session.
Today was the big day. Vickie had taken this job just for the reason of being able to leave the position. While that is probably true of many people, Vickie had a different reasoning behind her desire.
Vickie worked second shift at the Big Town Market bakery department. She knew of the tradition that the bakery had of giving a person their “Just Desserts” on their last day on the job, even though she had never openly admitted it. She had overheard the stories as a young girl, and it was this knowledge that had secretly pushed Vickie to apply for the job. Throughout her life she had always felt a special “tingling” inside whenever she would see any classic slapstick on tv where some lovely lady, dressed up in a beautiful gown, would walk into a room and be met face first with some creamy pastry. She had tried to recreate this by using the suds from her bubble bath, but knew it didn’t have the same impact.
So Vickie got dressed for her final day, nearly shaking with anticipation. She had thought about this day many times, trying to imagine how she should react to make it seem like a surprise, how her co-workers would go about the task of humiliating her. Should she open her mouth in a big “O” of shock, or deliver a tight lipped whine of disgust. Would they cover her up in a rain poncho and shower cap and only mess up her face a little, or would they strip her down to her bra and panties and totally blanket her body.
Well only time would tell, so she put on her favorite black bra and panties to be covered by her uniform of a white top and dark blue pants. The pants were a size or two too small, but the tight look worked well for her. She carried her paper hat that would be used to keep her strawberry blonde hair from getting in the food in a duffle bag with her street clothes hat she would need to wear home. The uniform would have to be turned in at the end of the shift. She looked at herself in the mirror hoping the next time she saw herself in the mirror she would be admiring her 5’5″ 110lb body, that was kept well firmed by her skating training, covered in confections.
If the other two bakery workers were planning anything, they hid it very well. Vickie saw no signs of it on their faces or in their mannerisms. She even attempted to push them a little by saying things like “Gee Olivia, I sure will miss you guys when I’m back at college” and “Hey Wendy, what does the store give you as a going away gift after only 4 months of service?”, but still no hints. She half expected something during her dinner break, but was disappointed again. The bakery dept. closed at 10pm, even though the store didn’t close until 11, to give the staff time to clean up and get things ready for the morning shift. She had pretty well given up hope, and was thinking of ways of taking home a couple of leftovers, when her dreams came true.
Olivia handed her a couple of empty trays into the back to wash off, and after passing through the swinging doors and placing them on the counter she heard Wendy say “Wait, here’s another one”. Vickie turned, and was greeted with a sticky sweet darkness. She had been hit with a simple white cake, that was covered with at least four inches of pink cherry frosting. Wendy had pushed the cake in her face, and then tactfully twisted it and removed the cardboard to uncover Vickie’s face, fully covered with one big swirl of frosting.
It took Vickie two full attempts to pull enough frosting from her eyes with her fingertips to be able to see again. Just in time to see Olivia standing next to her holding a huge Meringue pie, and saying “Hair today, gone tomorrow” and with that Olivia removed Vickie’s paper hat and smashed the pie on top of her head. Wendy came back over with both hands full saying “You know, I just can’t decide what to give you as a going away gift, Lemon Chiffon or Banana Cream. Oh what the heck, have ’em both” and plopped both pies into the side of Vickie’s head like cymbals, engulfing her head with cream and pudding with the thick crusts clutching to her cheeks.
Vickie was no longer wondering what else was happening on the outside of her pastry prison, because inside she was feeling “Special” all over. She wondered at first if one of them had sprayed water on the front of her pants, but after wiping her hand past there, she realized that she was only moist on the inside of her panties. The onslaught continued; Olivia said “Here’s a pearl necklace for ya” and then the spritzing sound of a whipped cream can was heard while a thick bead of cream was placed around her neck. Wendy returned with the two largest eclairs they had ever made, pulled Vickie’s pants out enough to lodge them in front and then placed her right arm around Vickie’s back and her left arm against the eclairs and said “you look like you need a hug” and with that, squeezed the thick custard down her pants. One last treat for you” Olivia said as she walked over with a large plastic bowl of Chocolate Mousse Pudding. Wendy unbuttoned the top two buttons on Vickie’s shirt and Olivia, with one strong shake, freed the contents onto her breasts and then Wendy rebuttoned the shirt back up and patted the mousse down.
The party was over, much to Vickie’s displeasure. She could have stood there all night having pies and cakes tossed onto her. She took a look at her attackers, and noticed that they didn’t come out unscathed themselves. Olivia had a large white blob of cream hanging from her forehead down the side of her face, which was a sharp contrast from the flawless dark skin Olivia possessed. She figured that it must have been some shrapnel from the pie sandwich. Wendy had also unwittingly wiped a fair amount of the chocolate mousse into the sides of her blonde hair, and had spots of whipped cream dotted all around her face.
They laughed along with Vickie for a while and were amazed over how good natured she was in allowing them to do all this to her without her getting angry. They then sent her on her way to the staff bathroom to clean up and go home. Vickie closed herself in and found that the ladies had left a half dozen large towels out for her and had her duffle bag already inside. They really had planned ahead for all this. Vickie took her shirt off and dropped it into a plastic bag in the corner of the room. She noticed how the mousse had clung thickly to her front and totally filled her cleavage. Then she pulled her pants off and tossed them into the bag. Her panties and thighs were coated with the custard, and she could no longer tell if her panties were stickier on the inside or on the outside. She removed her panties and took off her bra to free herself of the messy clothes.
She stood back and admired herself in the mirror, her hair fully clotted with meringue, and her face layered with pudding and cream leading to the thick underlayer of pink frosting which she now wore like a mask, a thick ring of cream surrounding her neck, chocolate spread all over her firm breasts and stomach, and the spray of custard oozing down the front o her legs. It was better than should could ever have dreamed, and she wondered if there was any way that she could do this for a career.
I think it’s about time for a messy story…….
Homecoming (m/f mess)
Ms. Kenny was my high school art teacher and she was the reason that every guy in school took at least two art classes. At about 25 years old she was a nice contrast to many of the old timers with whom we all had trouble making a connection. Ms. Kenny was my dream woman. 5’5″ and slim with shoulder-length wavy black hair, and an evil sense of humor, she made learning much less the chore. Through my several semesters of classes with her, we developed a friendship that went beyond school-work to the point where we would often have long talks about anything that came to mind. It was during homecomming week of my senior year that our relationship took an amazing turn.
Like many schools we held a variety of activities for homecomming week, including a pie auction. Several teachers and students were to be paraded accross stage while bids were taken to see who would have the honor of pushing a large plate a whipped cream and pudding into the face of the victim. As one of the better members of the baseball team I was one of the designated targets. Much to my dismay, all the teachers involved were men and Ms. Kenny was no where to be seen. To top it all off, we were all dressed in ponchos and shower caps due to the worries of some of the cheerleaders about getting their hair messy. This scenario was hardly anything to get worked up about.
Through luck of the draw I was the last person to be auctioned off and for a while it looked like I was going to go cheap. The others had all commanded pretty good money from their girl and boyfriends and all the teachers were popular targets. By the time I came around, anyone that was still interested was pretty well tapped out. It was then that I notced Ms. Kenny appear in the back and offer her winning bid of $25.00. She was smiling broadly as she approached with the pie and I warned her that I would get her back someday. “In that case,” she said, “you won’t be needing this!” and she yanked off my shower cap.
I could barely close my eyes before I felt the impact of the pie on my face. She proceeded to ham it up with the onlookers by smearing it all over my face and back over my head. Once she had emptied the contents of the plate, she walked around behind me and ran her hands all through my hair until my head was one large goopy mess. She topped it off with a little peck on the cheek. Needless to say, I had to remain seated for a while and I was grateful for the poncho as it hid my obvious excitement.
That night was the traditional tee-peeing of the school which also involves eggs and shaving cream and other petty vandalism. I was still being congratulated by my friends about how lucky I had been that afternoon. Most of the guys would have killed for Ms. Kenny to take such an interest in them. We were still laughing it up when someone tapped me on the shoulder and said “remember this?” I turned around and received a handful of shaving cream in my face from none other than Ms. Kenny.
By the time I cleared my eyes she was already running away. I caught up to her behind the school and wrestled her down to the ground. She was still laughing when I straddled her chest had pinned her arms down with my knees. Her smile faded a little when I pulled the dozen eggs out of my duffle bag. “No, No, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it” she giggled. But she knew she was in trouble when she I pulled out my own can of shaving cream.
“I told you I was going to get you back….” I laughed.
She cringed as I cracked the first two eggs accross her beautiful, black bangs. The yolk then spread back through her hair with each additional egg, One after another the eggs came down and her pleading became less and less vocal as she resigned herself to her fate. I was sure to use one hand to spread the yolks all over her face as well as slick her hair back with the slime and pieces of shell. “You asshole” she laughed as the onslaught continued. One thing about eggs is that they dry quickly, and she was turning into a sticky, crusty mess. That is when I grabbed the shaving cream.
She just shook her head as I sprayed down her kicking legs and thrashing arms. I finished up the can on her t-shirt before I tossed it aside. After the ammo was all used up we just looked at each other and I started to feel kind of guilty. I had gotten caught up in the moment and I was afraid I had gone too far. I rolled off her and just waited for her to say something.
Ms. Kenny sat up, tentatively ran her hands up to her crusty hair and pulled out some pieces of egg shell. “I’m sorry” I offered, “I guess I got a little carried away.” She looked over at me, took two large hanfuls of cream from her shirt, and clamped her hands on both sides of my head with an evil grin. She leaned in and gave my a hard kiss, smearing her hands around my head as she had done earlier that day. “I’ll see you Monday.” she whispered before she stood up and headed toward the parking lot. Once again, I had to remain seated for a while.