The Slapstick Assistant. Part 1, by Jo What had I let myself into? Here I was in the wings waiting to make my entrance on to the stage as an 'assistant' to top of the bill brothers John and Jim in the Chucky Brothers Summer show at our local theatre. The show was a typical seaside variety show with singers, jugglers, magicians and comedians such as John and Jim, with their brand of jokes and slapstick. I had not seem the show but my flatmate Samantha said they played to a full house every night. Samantha had asked me, at rather short notice, to stand in for her as 'assistant' after she sprained her ankle whilst out jogging. We were both dark haired, reasonably attractive, good figures and about the same height and weight, although my breasts were larger and firmer and I rarely needed to wear a bra. When I first went to aerobics classes the other girls were so impressed with my bosom that they knicknamed me 'Meloney' Samantha played the part of an 'assistant' to the brothers, coming on as a glamorous distraction during the slapstick sketches they performed. I tried on the black dress that she wore on stage and it fitted me well, helping to uplift my breasts and give a good cleavage. "You are only on stage for a short time during the sketch -- although if you are unlucky the dress might get splashed a little" Samantha said, with a faint smile on her face. I had rushed down to the theatre in a white blouse and flared skirt before changing into the black tight party dress, knowing that all I had to do in the first sketch was walk on stage, tell John and Jim how stupid they were and collect the brushes from them. The set was made out as a room that required decorating by the brothers and I was to be the rich and haughty owner of the house. The sketch was going along nicely when I strode on stage, my high heels clicking noisily on the boards, to see that they had painted the walls and themselves, pasted and papered the walls and themselves, poured buckets of paste over each other and filled their trousers with paint. I was amazed at all the mess they had made but the audience loved their antics. Taking a gulp of air to calm myself I walked up to them. "You are a pair of complete idiots and I will not tolerate this any longer -- the sooner you leave the better!" The audience started to hiss and boo. I wasn't bothered by their response as all I had to do was to collect the brushes from the brothers and walk back off stage. Standing defiently with my hands on my hips I pointed at the large brush in Johns hand and uttered the immortal words "Let me have it!" John turned to look at the audience. "Shall we let her have it or not?" "Yes -- give it to her now!" was the unanimous reply. John dunked the brush into a bucket of yellow paint, leaned forward and stroked the paint down my face, across my cleavage and then wiped the fully laden brush right down the front of my dress. He did it not once but twice to make sure I was well and truly coated, with the onlookers now cheering and laughing. The paint seeped over my breasts and dribbled inside my dress. I was initially suprised by the cold fluid over my face and cleavage but as it slowly oozed downward a feeling of satisfying enjoyment started to come over me. As I struggled to see through the paint I splutterd "You've completely ruined my dress, you idiot!" "Then you won't need it any more will you?" replied Jim. I felt Johns hand on my shoulder and then he pulled down the zip at the back of the dress, as it loosened Jim ripped it away from my body . There I stood trying to cover my breasts with my hands, my nipples suddenly very hard, and wipe the paint from my face at the same time. I had never been so embarressed as I tried to retain my dignity whilst only clad in a pair of small panties. The next moment Jim's furtive hand pulled forward the elastic of my still pristine panties and poured a torrent of thick blue paint inside them. I shrieked out loud, not in anger, because I actually liked the sensation of the gooey slop moving from side to side caressing my pussy. What should I do now? My panties were slowly starting to come down with the weight of the paint but the feeling of arousal inside them was starting to rise as the paint slid slowly back and fro and then slithered down my legs. The audience waited for my complete loss of dignity but I really was enjoying the whole experience! The brothers swiftly helped me out of my predicament -- taking hold of my arms and legs they picked me up and dropped me into a tin bath of wallpaper paste. With my legs splayed either side of the bath the sticky mess clung to my body; the feel of it an enormous turn on as I slipped further into the paste. The holiday makers were enjoying this brand of slapstick and cheered for more. The brothers obliged them by pouring bucket after bucket of multi coloured paint over my head and body; some poured slowly over the length of my body and some just dumped on me as I squealled and squirmed with the pleasure of this erotic sensation I hoped would never end. Eventually they ran out of paint, much to my disappointment, the sketch had finished and the audience left their seats to top up with liquid refreshments during the interval. I lay there letting the cloying liquid surround me and wallowing in the excitement of my brief but enlightning appearence on stage. I now understood why Samantha always came home with a smile on her face after every show! I clambered out of the bath and went for a long hot shower. I felt so aroused after the mess and humiliation of the earlier sketch I hoped they might ask me back for the next days performance. After changing into my white blouse and skirt I set off for the stage door. The stage manager called after me, "Where do you think you are going? Didn't Samantha tell you there are some more sketches to do? We need you back on stage in two minutes!" "But I've only got these clothes with me!" I protested "And I don't want them messed up! "No problem, the brothers will not be slapping around any paint or paste in the next sketch" Well, I thought, it will be doing Samantha a favour, so why not? But I could have sworn I saw a faint smile on the face of the stage manager as he turned away!!! To be continued. -------------------------------------- Back to Shokolada's Messy Stories archive