Somebody thought that the phrase WAM on my member page referred to the 80’s pop group. I thought I needed to correct this misapprehension. Here’s the first part of a story on that very subject…there are further episodes awaiting, if anyone’s interested…
Looking back, I think it was a mistake to tell Erin about my private fantasy.
We had been going out for a year and a half, and one night she asked me if there was anything I was interested in doing, sexually, that I had never told anybody else about. Erin was broad-minded and totally lacking in prejudice; she’d once told me how she’d been fucked by an older woman when she was in college, and I had been so aroused by the idea that I’d dragged her into the bedroom and we’d had sex then and there. The night she asked me the question we were lying in bed, both a bit drunk, and I felt like I could tell her anything.
So I told her about my secret fondness for what initiates call WAM – short for Wet And Messy, a blanket term for anyone who either likes either messing other people up with custard pies, assorted kinds of goo or water, or who likes being messed up and/or moistened that way themselves. I told her about my rich erotic appreciation for the art of slapstick, and how there was nothing I liked better than having either an attractive woman at my mercy with a few dozen pies to hand, or her having me at her mercy in the same situation. I described the wonderful sensation of whipped cream and custard and cake batter on bare skin; I waxed rhapsodic about the beauty of the edible blindfold; I tried to explain the levels of humiliation involved in being degraded and humbled by something so essentially silly as the humble pie. Erin and I had enjoyed a bit of light bondage now and then, so she had no problem grasping the essential principles.
She chuckled quietly in the darkness, and remarked that we must try it out some day. We were tired and, like I said, a bit drunk, so we fell asleep and the next day we had breakfast, kissed goodbye and went to our respective jobs as usual.
What I hadn’t reckoned on was Erin’s unusual closeness to her friends. She had known them a lot longer than she’d known me, and sometimes I felt that she was a lot closer to them, too. I didn’t mind; I liked being the only guy in a gaggle of females. In particular, there were three friends who we could always count on to turn up for a late drink.
Linda was plump, sexy and witty, with short orange hair, and she was usually stringing along one hapless guy or other. She was slightly older than the rest of us, and had a good job as an office manager. Ursula was Erin’s chronically single friend, a fey red-haired painter, with a ready smile but generally very earnest. Lucy was petite, very pretty and silent, and generally sat with a glass of wine smiling enigmatically at the edge of the group. She was a talented photographer.
So, the night that Erin and I went around to Ursula’s house for dinner, I didn’t expect anything but the usual good food and good conversation. Linda was in great form, and kept us laughing with stories about the last few guys who had attempted to chat her up. There was plenty of wine, as usual, and as the evening stretched on past midnight, I began to feel pleasantly buzzed.
It was Linda who brought the conversation round to nudity. We were talking about times we’d been naked with our friends. Linda reminded Erin of a time that they’d gone skinny-dipping one night, and they exchanged a few fond memories. Lucy pointed out to Ursula and Erin that the three of them had gone to the swimming pool once, and had showered together afterwards. So in fact, all of us had, one time or another, seen Erin without her clothes on, but Linda had never seen Lucy, and Lucy, Ursula and Linda had never seen me naked.
“That’s because I’m a guy,” I reminded them.
“Well, I think it’s high time,” said Ursula, giggling.
“Oh no,” I said, grinning. “Not unless it’s a fair contest.”
“Well,” said Linda, reaching into her pocket, “every time is a good time for strip poker.” And she pulled out a pack of cards and slapped them onto the table.
We all looked at each other. Lucy raised her eyebrows and smiled. Ursula laughed. Erin grinned at me, and then at Linda. Linda was looking straight at me, with a challenging expression.
“I’m game,” I said calmly. There were whoops and laughs around the table. Linda took the cards out of the pack and dealt.
We played. To begin with, I did well, and after half an hour I had only taken off my socks, while Erin was down to her underwear, Linda had taken her top off, Ursula had had to take off her tights, and only Lucy was still fully clothed. I excused myself and went to the bathroom.
Most of the bathroom was concealed by a plastic sheet – Ursula was having some building work done. I relieved my bladder, and as I splashed a little water on my face, I felt confident. I was smiling inwardly at the thought of getting my girlfriend, and her mates, to strip mardin escort off. Erin was a terrible card player, and I was sure that she, at least, would be the first to go naked. And if that happened, then who knew what might develop…?
When I came back to the table, Linda dealt again. And this time, I couldn’t believe my luck – I had a flush in Spades. With that, I felt sure I could bluff them all into getting naked. I concealed my glee, and began to raise the stakes.
To my disappointment, Erin was the first to fold. She threw in her cards, shrugged and smiled, then curled up in her bra and panties with a glass of wine, not at all embarrassed. Lucy held out a little longer, but then she, too, folded. Ursula tried to go on, but when Linda raised the stakes to t-shirt and trousers, she tossed her cards into the table, blushed and poured herself more wine.
Now I was facing Linda. She was down to her bra, her skirt and her panties, while I still had my t-shirt, jeans and boxer shorts. We were evenly matched. I had another drink of wine – there was no way Linda had a better hand than me. I looked at her across the table, and she looked back steadily.
“I’ll see your bra and skirt,” I said, “and I’ll raise you your panties.”
She looked at her cards for a long moment, then looked up at me.
“I’ll call you on that,” she said softly. I couldn’t resist a triumphant grin, and spread my hand on the table.
“Flush in Spades,” I murmured. “Everything off, please.” Ursula gasped. Linda looked at me, then back to her hand, then at me again. She placed her cards down, face up.
“Straight flush, kiddo,” she said with a wicked grin. “I trust you’re good for your commitments. “
I stared at her hand in disbelief, but there it was – a straight flush. I’d never even seen one before. Erin burst out laughing and clapped. Ursula cheered. Even Lucy gave a small whoop of delight.
“I’m good for it,” I said, and stood up. I stepped away from the table and pulled my t-shirt over my head. Then, looking at them all the time, I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them over my hips, pulling them down my legs and off my ankles; finally, I eased my boxers down and stepped out of them. I sat back down at the table, naked. The women were silent, smiling at me. I knew I was blushing with embarrassment, but I held their gaze.
“You’re a lucky girl, Erin,” said Linda, nodding her head. She grinned at me. “Respect.’
“Thank you,” I acknowledged, and had to smile.
“Actually…” said Erin, stroking the stem of her wine glass, “we have a small confession to make…” She glanced at the others and giggled.
“What?” I said, but the suspicion was suddenly growing in me.
“Linda fixed the deck,” said Erin, and she shook with laughter, her pert little breasts shaking inside her bra. “While you were in the bathroom. We made you lose.”
“You fucking bitches,” I said with a grin. Linda looked mock-appalled.
“Oh, that’s charming language,” she said. “That can’t go unpunished. Ladies?”
And before I could move, Erin and Ursula had jumped out of their chairs and moved behind mine. They grabbed my arms and tied my wrists behind my back.
“What are you doing?” I asked, suddenly alarmed. Erin leaned down and kissed me on the lips, and smiled at me. .
“What it was,” she said casually, “I told the girls about. . . umm.. . that whole WAM thing. They thought it was really funny. They want to help make your dream come true.”
“Oh, get the fuck out of here,” I said nervously, but Erin and Ursula pulled me to my feet, and Linda and Lucy went over to the bathroom door and flung it open. Erin and Ursula frogmarched me over to the bathroom; I was incredibly aware of the fact that I was naked, and vulnerable. This was funny on one level, but it was also frightening.
Linda and Lucy went into the bathroom and Erin and Ursula pulled me in, too. Linda grabbed the plastic builders’ sheet, pulled it away – and I saw that behind the sheet, the floor of the bathroom was covered by an empty, inflatable paddling pool. The bath was crammed with about thirty creamy-looking pies, several bottles of chocolate syrup, and dozens of cans of whipped cream. There were also half a dozen buckets, filled with various colours of cake batter. 1 gasped, and to my mortal embarrassment, my cock began to stiffen.
“Oh my God,” Ursula laughed. “I think he likes it.”
“Please don’t do this,” I begged them. “Please don’t,” but Ursula and Erin forced me over into the paddling pool, made me stand in it, and turned me to face them. I looked at the four women, my girlfriend and her friends, now smiling at the naked young man they had at their mercy, and while one part of me was aching with humiliation, another part was desperate for them to do whatever they wanted to me. I could see my pale, naked body reflected in the full-length mirror behind them.
“I will get you for this,” I swore. “I will so get each van escort and every one of you for this.”
“Oh baby,” said Erin, grinning, “you’re sweet, but you’re so full of it. You’ll never be able to do everything to us that we’re gonna do to you.”
At this point, Lucy went out to the living room and came back with a digital camera. She smiled at me and raised it to her eyes. My eyes widened, and I just had time to say “Oh no…” when Erin picked up a large, creamy pie and pushed it into my face.
It folded into my eyes and around my head, and she smeared it over the top of my cropped hair. I gasped for breath, feeling the cool cream oozing into my ears, then the pie fell off my face onto my chest and slithered down my body. It was cold, and I shivered.
“Ohh…” I moaned, blinded by the pie goop. “Please, no…” But then two more pies were pushed into either side of my face, and rubbed in well. The gunge filled up my ears and splattered onto my neck and chest. The crusts and paper plates fell onto my shoulders and landed with a splat on the floor of the paddling pool. Another pie engulfed my naked cock and balls, and I gasped with the cold, but then a fifth pie landed on my bare ass and was smeared thoroughly over my buttocks. I blinked, trying to see, and I whimpered, “Okay, stop, please, that’s enough…” but it only seemed to excite them.
They went to town on me. Pie after pie was shoved into my face, so that I could only take infrequent gulps of air, and the weight of crust and pie filling on my head began to weigh on me. More pies were shoved into my chest and stomach and crotch, and I heard the four women laughing and giggling as they found new parts of my body to attack.
Then there was a short pause. A three-inch thick mound of filling slid slowly down over my face and fell off onto my bare feet, and I blinked – and as my vision cleared a little, for the first time, I could see them standing a little distance away.
“Are you finished?” I gasped. Erin raised her arm – and this time, she hurled the pie through the air, and it splattered across my face with surprising force. Blinded once again, I gulped and moaned, and then another one was flung at me and landed on top of the first one. They waited for them to fall off, then another hit me, and another, and another. Between hits, I moaned “Mmff! No! Please!” but they ignored me.
Then I was subjected to a barrage. Pie after pie was hurled at me, splattering across my face and my torso, occasionally landing on my crotch and making me flinch. I must have been unrecognizable; I couldn’t see anything, and I couldn’t hear much from the cream in my ears, except the girls laughing and taunting me. Finally, just as a pie was slopping off my face and onto my cream-covered chest, a last one whacked me in the face and stayed there for several seconds. I stood, unmoving, abject, underneath my coating of pie glop and shortcrust pastry.
Then I felt hands pressing on my shoulders, and I sank unsteadily to my knees. My hands were still tied behind my back. The floor of the paddling pool was inches thick in mess, so it wasn’t easy to balance. I knelt, sitting back on my heels, and felt slim hands clearing the mess out of my face.
When at last I opened my eyes and looked up, there were Erin, Linda, Ursula and Lucy grinning down at me. None of them had more than a couple of small splashes of cream on their arms and legs; I was a filthy and barely recognizable snowman.
“A change of pace,” said Linda, and all four of them raised large bottles of chocolate syrup over my head. I started to say “Oh noo!”, when the four thick streams of glossy black syrup cascaded down over my forehead and poured over my eyes and cheeks and mouth. I closed my mouth and held my breath, and felt the sticky, lukewarm syrup flow over my lips and pour off my chin. It pooled in my crotch, where my cock – which had gone soft from the cold pie goo – began to stiffen once again.
“He is such a dirty boy,” said Ursula in a marveling voice. “The things that turn some people on.”
“That is really disgusting,” Lucy giggled.
“We need more,” Linda said authoritatively. “It looks bad now, cause it’s mixed up with the other stuff. If he were totally covered it would look better.” I felt the streams pourin: over my head slackening slightly, and I opened my mouth and breathed.
“He’s your boyfriend, Erin,” I heard Ursula say. Erin said, “Oh, go for it. The more the merrier,” and chuckled.
“Oh no…” I gasped as I felt more syrup being poured over my head. I bowed my head and it flowed over the back of my neck, down my naked back, which had been still relatively clean – but then a firm hand lifted my chin and it oozed over my face once again. They used up those four bottles, then they emptied another four bottles over me, then another four.
“Please. ..” I whimpered, “please…”
“Please what?” asked Linda sharply.
“Please don’t do this…” ankara escort I breathed.
“Ssshh,” said Erin in a fond tone, “open your eyes.” I opened my eyes, and the film of brown syrup cleared; reflected in the mirror, kneeling between the woman, was a naked, black, glistening form. I looked like I had been dipped in crude oil. The entire front of my body from face to knees was black and glossy and sticky. Lucy was busily taking pictures. Erin, Ursula and Linda were taking a break, smoking cigarettes and drinking more wine.
“He’s a good slave, isn’t he?” said Linda casually.
Erin smiled. “We could probably do whatever we wanted to him. I’m sure he’d have no problem with that. Would you, slave?”
I looked up at them, blinking the chocolate syrup out of my eyes. Erin was staring right at me, daring me to do it.
“No,” I muttered.
“Do you want to be our messy sex slave?” she asked. Ursula stifled a laugh. Lucy smiled.
“Yes,” I said.
“Say it,” said Linda. “Say, please make me your messy sex slave.”
“Please,” I grated, “make me your messy sex slave.”
“We can do whatever we like to you?” said Erin, her smile getting bigger.
“You can do whatever you like to me,” I said.
“Now, there’s a challenge,” said Linda. Erin scrutinized me for a moment, then she put down her wine glass and knelt by the paddling pool. She reached out, took my cock in her hand, and stroked it. 1 gasped, and grew harder. This was breaking a taboo – up until now it had merely been humiliating, but it was now getting intimate.
“You bold girl,” said Ursula. Erin glanced at her, and looked me in the eyes.
“Do you like that?” she murmured.
“Yes,” I breathed.
“I bet you wish this was happening to one of us instead of you, don’t you?” she said softly.
I waited a long time before finally saying, “… Yes…”
“You’d love it if one of us were tricked into getting naked and kneeling in a paddling pool while the rest of us messed her up, wouldn’t you? That’s, like, your ultimate fantasy, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I uttered.
“Which one of us?” said Erin, grasping my cock more firmly and making me harder. “Me, probably, right?”
I was so aroused, I could barely breathe. I just nodded Yes.
“Or ideally, it’d be all of us, wouldn’t it? You’d somehow get us all tied up and do each of us in turn, wouldn’t you? Until we were all as fucked-up as you are now?”
I nodded again.
“You know it’s not gonna happen, don’t you?” she whispered in my ear, then she gave my cock a friendly squeeze and stood up.
“He’s been thinking bad thoughts!” she announced. “Hand me that.” Linda cheered as Ursula handed Erin a large bucket. I looked up, saw Erin upturning it over my head, and I only had time to take a huge breath before a thick torrent of pale blue cake batter cascaded over my head and shoulders. “Oooohhh…God…” I moaned as it covered my naked body. The pool of mess I knelt in me was now up to my hips – it must have been six inches deep. I didn’t get a chance to blink it out of my eyes, because another bucket was emptied over me, then another one. I shuddered and moaned as they covered me, then hands carefully wiped my eyes and I saw myself once again, no longer glossy black and well-defined, but indistinct under a thick coating of blue and yellow-coloured sludge.
Ursula had left the room. Linda and Erin untied my arms and retied them in front of me, then they pushed me onto my back in the pool of muck. I felt the lukewarm slime ooze up around my back and my ass, and I stared up at them fearfully.
Linda and Erin each picked up a can of whipped cream, and began to spray it over my naked body, starting with my feet. As each can emptied, they took a new one, and before long my legs were covered, and they were squirting the stuff over my aching cock and balls. Then it was my stomach’s turn, the cream heaping up in swirls on my body; and as I whimpered for them to please, stop, I couldn’t take it, they covered my chest, my arms, until finally my whole body was buried under mounds of whipped cream, except for my face. Lucy kept on taking pictures, moving around us to get the best angle, recording everything.
“Don’t worry,” said Erin with a grin. “We’ll let you breathe.” And she and Linda aimed the nozzles of the spray cans in my face, and let them go.
Immediately, my face was obliterated under a tall, oozing, sloppy heap of cream. I opened my mouth and moaned as some of it fell in, and I swallowed, breathing through my mouth as they covered every last inch of me.
I lay back, completely humiliated, shaking with what they were doing to me. I couldn’t believe that Erin had enlisted her friends to do this to me, and that they had entered into it with such enthusiasm. I felt them smearing the cream over me to get better coverage, and I gasped for breath. I tried opening my eyes, but all I could see was a dim whiteness from the cream. I closed them again.
Then I felt them lifting me to a sitting position, and I sat up, panting. “Please,” I begged them, “that’s enough…”
“What do you think, babes?” I heard Linda say.
“Hmmm,” Erin mused. “I’m not sure.”
“Erin,” said Ursula’s voice, “I’ve often wondered, does he have that obsession most guys have, with anal sex?”
Etiketler: goy, invasion of privacy, lifting, redneck, rigs, semis, throat taste, white trash