This was an April Fool’s joke where YouTube invented a fake ‘trend’ and encouraged people to make their own videos. Most of the them involved blokes or kids, but here are some female ones.

A good point was brought up in my recent discussion topic about underutilised celebs. Namely, all WAM stories are set in the present (well, the present according to when they were written to be specific), or so near in the future they might as well be the present in my case. Now I’m wondering how far back through time we can discuss before we start to collectively draw blanks. As such whenever I feel like it, I’m going to start up a discussion about celebrities from particular decades, with each one taking us back 10 years.

I’m skipping the 2010′s since we’re still in them, and the 2000′s since I think they’re recent enough that not many people famous in that decade will have become noticeably less appealing a choice, though if enough people think I’m wrong then I might change my mind. I’m only going to use five categories this time. Here are my choices:

Singer/musician: Melissa Auf der Maur
Band/group: L7
Actress: Melissa Joan Hart
TV Host/personality: Cat Deeley
Wildcard: Michelle Collins

Have fun with this one!

This story is entirely a work of fiction. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. The events and activities described in the story may NOT be legal, ethical or safe, and this site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

“I don’t want to be a spokeswoman for the Department of the Bleeding Obvious”, I say, purging the last residue of pale yellow cheesecake from my hair, “but this operation hasn’t got off to the best of starts. We came here with the brief of preventing any models getting messy; instead we got the whole lot in one fell swoop.” I open my make-up bag in preparation for the third application of the day. “The Assassin must be feeling rather outdone.”

“Sorry about that, but I couldn’t sit back and let those five words slip by.” Cassie drains the last of her coffee. “Conjectures about my sexuality, fine. Fault-finding with my appearance, I couldn’t care less. But those five words – ‘are-you-blind-or-some-thing?’”, Cassie spits out the syllables one by one, “make me furious every time, even when they’re directed at someone else.”

“It’s just a throwaway phrase people use…”

“That’s exactly the problem! People casually associating clumsiness or slow-wittedness with blindness. It makes me want to show them what a blind person is capable of.” Cassie crushes the polystyrene cup in her fist. “And well… I showed her!”

“No you didn’t”, I reproach her. “You let your temper get the better of you and put the case in jeopardy.”

“I responded to her ignorance”, Cassie slam-dunks the mangled polystyrene into the waste bin with pinpoint aim. “It’s only human.”

“You’re not allowed to be human!” I put down my tub of foundation and turn from the mirror. Cassie stands with fists balled, her blue eyes boring a hole through the walls of the cubicle, onwards through the concrete exterior of the Town Hall, penetrating even the rain clouds that hang over Grumford as dark as her mood…

“Is this your first time working out in the field?”, I ask in a softer tone.

She nods crossly.

“Let me tell you the golden rule. The measure of an investigative copper is not how nifty you are with a magnifying glass, or whether you can memorise twenty items on a tray; it’s how much shit you can take without being ‘human’. In this line of work, you’re going to come across some real lowlife P-O-Ses – far worse than the likes of Wamdale and Penny Black – and they’re going to test your temper to the limit.

“They’ll change their minds and send you back and forth with paperwork. They’ll wind you up with their obnoxious habits. They’ll insult your family and your background. They’ll make obscene insinuations about your bedroom habits (and it’s not only the blokes who do that either). They’ll flaunt what reprehensible scumbags they are, to incite your moral outrage. They’ll spit in your face and vomit all over their cells.

“And all of it they do in the hope that you’ll lose your rag and lash out at them. They’re looking for that one regretful moment when you let your professionalism slip and become ‘only human’, because they know that they’ll be off the hook and you’ll be in the shit. Cases collapse because of officers being human. Murderers and rapists walk free. Defence lawyers have a field day. So please, Cassie, be human in your own time. Don’t be human on the job.”

By the end of my lecture, Cassie looks suitably chastened. “I see”, she purses her lips. “I guess I’m not suited to the field. Maybe I’m better off being human back in my lab.” She slopes towards the cubicle door.

She’s walking out? “I didn’t say you had to leave…”, I protest.

“Why shouldn’t I?”, she pouts. “I’ve provided you with all the equipment, so my work here is done. The last thing I want is to jeopardise the operation by sticking around here being human.” Her hand locates the door handle.

Here we go. I’ve dared to criticise the girl and she’s gone into a sulk. Let me guess, she’s angling for me to tell her how I can’t do without her. Which, to be honest, I can’t, so I’d better swallow my pride and tell her.

“Cassie, wait. Your work isn’t done.”

Cassie halts, but maintains a hold on the handle, signalling that I’m on the right track but need to grovel a bit more to secure her cooperation.

“Really, I do need you here. It’s important for me to have a second pair of ey… um, to have someone making observations. Half the time I’m stuck on stage and there’s not a lot I can do. Stay, please.”

Cassie withdraws her hand. “So I haven’t totally screwed things up?”

“No, all is not lost”, I assure her. “Things could’ve turned out worse. Much worse.”

“How exactly?”, asks Cassie.

“The Mayoress could have been present”, I shudder. “Tawney would have our entrails flying from the Town Hall flagpole by now.”

Cassie turns back from the door. “OK Ash, tell me one thing. Before Charlotte opened the door, you were coming to my aid, weren’t you?”

“Of course I was.” I instinctively smile to hide my fib, then remember that facial expressions and body language are useless tools here. Goodness knows with what acuity this girl is analysing my intonation. However, one way or another, Cassie seems satisfied with my answer.

“I would have dealt with that bitch anyway”, she insists.

“I can well believe it. You know, the way you flipped that tart straight into Dreadful’s face – not many sighted people could have done that. It was priceless, as was the look on her face when Wade handed her the mop and bucket and told her to get busy.”

Cassie relents into a smirk. “There are times when I really regret that I can’t see.”

“And there’s another silver lining to this whole debacle”, I add. “They’ve postponed the afternoon session for a couple of hours to let everyone clean up and sort out new dresses. It means we’ve got plenty of time to look for leads.”

“Ah yes, I’ve been waiting for the chance to tell you something”, Cassie reveals. “This morning I did a bit of scouting around, and I came across something of interest.”

“Now that’s more like it!” I clap my hands together. “Let’s go check it out! …Once I’ve put my face on.”

Fifteen minutes and one make-up job later, the pair of us creep up a narrow staircase. “Quietly does it”, I urge.

Cassie stops outside a door. “In here.” Plastered across the door are the words ‘Stage Loft’, along with an array of signs to warn would-be entrants of a whole host of dangers lurking within. I smile to myself as my sidekick brandishes a skeleton key, breezily ignorant of the hazards. What you can’t see can’t worry you.

Inside, the air hangs heavy with dust and damp, thick enough to itch the throat. Once the door clicks shut, the only illumination is that filtering in through a pair of ventilation grilles. I grope the wall for a light-switch, but my search is fruitless.

I’ve already lost track of Cassie somewhere ahead of me. I venture forwards, and nearly trip as my foot catches an object. Why the hell did I wear my heels up here? I should have changed into my trainers, never mind if they’re still wet. I attempt another foot forward, and flinch as a cobweb snags my newly made-up face.

“Are you there?” Cassie’s voice is now some distance away.

“Give me a minute.” I stumble into a large metal trunk, my shin striking the corner. I swear twice: once in response to the pain, and again at the thought of how ugly the bruise will look.

“What’s up Ash?”, calls Cassie. “I thought you said not to make noise.”

Alright smart arse. I take a step back and my calf meets resistance against a damp, wooden surface, causing me to lose my balance once more. My desperate arm-flailing cannot save me from tottering backwards. My backside comes to rest on what I guess is the top of a crate, but only for a split-second, before the rotten wood splits under me. My legs, pivoted on the edge of the crate, fly skyward as I continue my descent, flinging my new jade stilettos away into the darkness. My rear makes a second impact, this time into something that yields with a dull crunch.

Initially I’m relieved at having taken a fairly soft landing, but that’s before the cold, clinging sensation grows around my butt. Something damp is spreading through the fabric of my dress, creeping up my thighs and back. “Ooohhh noo!”, I groan in disgust and dismay. After having managed, against all odds, to preserve my frock during the food fight, it looks like I’ll be making another trip to the dress shop after all.

A metallic odour wafts upwards; goodness knows what I’ve sat in. Feeling around in the crate, I discover it is filled with small cylindrical objects, the ends of which are unmistakable in their shape. Fountain pen cartridges! I must have burst some of them in my landing. At school I had many an ink war with the boys using cartridges like these, whenever the teacher left the classroom for a crafty fag. I remember how difficult the stuff was to wash off. Swearing some more, I try to lever myself out of the crate, but the wood crumbles off in my hands. As I sink further into the cartridges, I can feel more of my dress become sodden.

I reach upwards, grappling for a handhold. My hand chances upon the end of a shelf, but this transpires to be as flimsy as everything else in this godforsaken dump, and the support breaks, causing the shelf to sag downwards. A rolling sound reverberates towards me, as the tilting sets something in motion at the other end of the shelf. Whatever it is going to land on me unless I stop it. I put out a hand at the edge of the shelf, and a round, metal object rolls into my palm. It feels like a paint tin. Well that was lucky; I could have been knocked out. My good fortune is short-lived, since a second later the lid falls against my shoulder, followed swiftly by a shower of paint. I have no idea what colour it is, but what I do know is that my hair is saturated in the stuff, as is my upper torso. I gasp and squirm as the coldness trickles into my dress. Needless to say, redoing my make-up was a waste of time.

Cue further groaning and swearing. Resolving to get out of this damn crate if it kills me, I lunge head-first over the edge. I thrust out my hands to break my fall, but it’s not the floor I come into contact with. Instead, I dive straight into another box, and promptly find myself buried in a mound of small, soft objects, which I soon identify as polystyrene packing beads. They get everywhere, sticking to the ink and paint. After much floundering, I succeed in upending the box, and everything – beads and me – tumbles out onto the floor.

“Ash, what are you doing back there?”, Cassie calls across with infuriating earnestness.

“I know it doesn’t make any difference to you”, I splutter, snorting polystyrene out of my nose, “but it’s bloody dark in here!”

“The lipstick I gave you has a torch function”, Cassie informs me. “Press the end. Didn’t I tell you that?”

“No.” I could throttle that girl.

I retrieve the lipstick tube and, mindful that the ‘explosion of colour’ is the last thing I need right now, cautiously press it. As promised, an LED blinks on. I clamber to my feet, and make a futile attempt to rid myself of the beads. The paint coating my front and hair turns out to be the ubiquitous ‘Grumford Green’ that adorns most council property, and the ink soaking my rump is of the black variety. No doubt about it, the dress is well and truly ruined, but there’s hope that my shoes are ok, if only I can find them.

I sweep the torchlight back and forth, casting ghostly shadows around the cluttered loft, which extends further than the modest beam will reach. There are many more boxes, crates, chests and trunks, piled haphazardly to the rafters. A piece of stage scenery with a crude depiction of a fairytale castle is suspended on a pair of cables, awaiting the next Christmas pantomime. Moth-eaten costumes for said panto hang from a clothes rail. There are numerous props that get wheeled out once a year for the town fête, including a coconut shy, a dunk tank and a pillory. A bookcase is lined with hardbound volumes, revealed by glinting gold letters to be the council minutes from the 1920s and 30s. There are a pair of trapdoors that presumably open above the stage, and nearby Cassie is standing by what appears to be a large cistern, drumming her fingers on the top.

“Yep, I’m coming, I’m coming!”, I call. No sign of my shoes, but for the moment I’m better off without them. I squelch a path though the piles of junk towards the vat, which is about two metres long, and one metre in breadth and depth. “So what’s up? Looks like a regular water storage tank to me.” I’m beginning to wonder whether she brought me up to this dingy hell-hole to teach me a lesson about her superiority in the absence of light. She’d better realise that the lecture I gave her about not losing one’s temper doesn’t apply when dealing with subordinates.

“Uh-uh, not water.” Cassie pulls back the lid.

My torchlight falls onto a pale blue substance, opaque and shiny, and with a slightly uneven texture. A few droplets of green drip down from my hair, and remain unmixed on the surface. “Nope, water it ain’t”, I agree.

“This morning I took a sample and ran it through my chemical analyser, but it can’t make head or tail of it”, shrugs Cassie. “Seems there’s a bit of everything in it.”

“I have an idea what I might be.” That colour has become infamous through a recent spate of lawsuits over permanently stained hair. I reach down into the goo, and the sticky, slimy feeling between my fingers heightens my suspicions. I raise my hand to my nose, and the sickly-sweet, industrial fragrance is the clincher.

“As I thought, it’s HeadsYouWin shampoo”, I confirm. “A year’s supply of HeadsYouWin shampoo.”

Well this is odd. I assumed that the prize would be presented in the form of a bumper package of bottles, not loose like this, poised in a giant vat right above the stage. How is the recipient meant to take it home?

Unless someone is planning a year’s shampooing all in one go… I look again at the trapdoors.

“I want this tank under 24 hour surveillance”, I instruct Cassie. “Can you rig up a camera?”

“Sure, several if you want”, my assistant assures. “And a motion sensor across the door.”

“That’ll be great. Nothing that will alert the intruder though”, I stipulate. “We need the Assassin caught red-handed… or blue-handed in this case. This is a smashing find, Cassie. Well done!”

“Glad I could be of help, Ash”, Cassie replies. “Just one small favour to ask: would you mind loosening your grip on my shoulder?”

“But I’m not touching your sh…” With a pang in my gut, I turn the torch behind us. The beam falls upon wavy locks of glossy chestnut hair, and a pair of matching chestnut eyes blinking out of a pretty but naïve face.

“Lacey!!”, I hiss. “What are you doing here?!”

“I dunno”, shrugs the interloper. “I saw you go this way and thought I’d better follow. Didn’t want to miss anything important.”

“Well you aren’t. This isn’t part of the contest”, I tell her. “Go back downstairs, and don’t tell anyone that Cassie and I came up here.”

“Why? What are you up to?”, Lacey persists.

“None of your business”, I snap. “It’s private.”

The cogs grind for a couple of seconds and then a knowing smile grows across the simple countenance. “Oh I get it! So Penny was right then.”

“About what?”

“About you two being lesbians”, Lacey grins. “Came up for a bit of privacy, eh? Bit of peace and quiet?” She gives us an over-laboured wink. “Eh? Eh?”

I puff incredulously. “No we’re not… well, she might be but… look, the two of us aren’t… you can’t seriously think… oh whatever! Believe what you want, but just go away and keep schtum!” I point to the door and then round on Cassie. “Didn’t you hear her come in?”

“You were making enough noise for several people”, Cassie retorts sourly.

“It’s ok Ash, I’m very open-minded about this kind of thing”, Lacey witters on. “In fact, I think my boyfriend has a gay side. Every Saturday morning he gets together with a lot of other lads, and they all put their arms around each other and roll around in mud for an hour and a half. I ask if I can join in, but he doesn’t let me, though he does like me to watch. Then they go and take a shower together.”

“Lacey, that’s a rugby match you’re describing”, I sigh. “Now would you kindly piss o…!”

The room floods with cold, glaring light as fluorescent tubes clink on. “Shit, what’s going on?”

“Footsteps!”, Cassie discerns. “Someone’s coming up the stairs!”

“We must hide!” I scramble over to a small, rickety wardrobe. “There’s room for one in here. Cassie, you’re the smallest.” Cassie duly climbs into the wardrobe and I close the door on her.

“Where did all that paint and stuff come from, Ash?”, Lacey notices my dishevelled state for the first time.

“Never mind that now.” The footsteps are unmistakable, even to my mortal ear. “You need to hide too.”

“But where?!”, shouts Lacey hysterically. “Tell me what to do Ash!”

“Keep your bloody voice down!”, I hiss. I’m tempted to tell the stupid girl to immerse herself in the shampoo vat – I’m confident she’d oblige – but instead I grab her arm and yank her over to a sponge-throwing board. It has a faded seaside postcard picture of a very skinny man’s body in a pair of trunks and a very large lady’s body in a swimsuit. “You can go behind here with me.”

“Ash, I said I was open-minded but…”

“Just shut up and get behind the board!”, I order. “No, don’t put your head through the hole; you’re meant to be hiding!”

Once Lacey is crouched down, I take another look around the now amply illuminated room. My blood runs cold as I release I have left a trail of ink, paint and polystyrene beads, tracing my movements from the destroyed crate onwards. I can barely believe I’ve made such a rookie error.

But with a key turning in the door, there’s no time to do anything about it. I crouch down next to Lacey and hope for the best.

TellyGunge has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this work.

“Now, Mr Mayor, I’d like to ask you a few questions while leaning precariously on the edge of the deck. What can go wrong?”

Another excellent upload from TheMudFinger channel. Here are three abridged episodes of Get Your Own Back in the best quality I’ve seen them: strict scoutmaster Lynne, make-up selling mother Denise, and West Ham supporting Aunt Pat. And there’s even a bonus Edwina Currie at the end.

Female baseball player gets pied.

Not really sure what’s going on here.

Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is entirely fictional. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. The events and activities described in the story may NOT be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

The next lady bravely stepped forward and sat in the celebrity seat. Both Tiffany and Amanda looked at each other, their expressions somewhere between slight puzzlement and sheer bafflement. Quite where on the confusion scale it lay wasn’t entirely clear. Still, it gave the designated celebrity a slight feeling of uneasiness, as if they shouldn’t have been there.

“Tiff…”

“Yes, Amanda?”

“Who is this?”

Tiffany shrugged her sloppy shoulders. “I have no idea. I mean, I know there have been some really niche people so far but even I don’t know who this is.”

“Dangerous words there, Tiffany!” a male voice boomed from stage right. It was Troy, and he seemed to have a smug smile on his face. “Ladies, this is Quinn Weng. She’s from Taiwan, and since 2004, she has been the singer of power metal band Seraphim.”

Amanda tutted and rolled her eyes. “Should’ve known it would be yet another metalhead. Who keeps booking these people?”

Troy glared at Amanda, poking his glasses down to the end of his nose. “I’ll happily admit that there’s probably more of a demand for popstars or famous actresses to be on these things, but I don’t see anything wrong with putting someone more ‘alternative’ up for it. They get some more exposure, and get messy. Besides, plenty of mainstream celebrities are getting it too, so what’s the actual problem?”

Tiffany and Amanda looked to each other, nervous about what to say next. However, at long last, Quinn said something. “I’m sorry if I’m not as popular as you’d hoped, but I was more than happy to help raise cash for charity by coming here and doing this.”

“See? Ms. Weng’s not complaining, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either,” said Troy.

Tiffany and Amanda looked at the singer apologetically. “Well, I feel like a bitch,” sighed Tiffany.

“Me too. Sorry Quinn.”

Troy just about managed to crack a smile. “I’m glad we’ve got this sorted. I’ll leave you ladies to it now.” With that, Troy headed backstage.

“So,” said Quinn. “What’s going to happen?”

“I think that it’s better if we just show you.” Amanda loaded the dumping device with the next pair of barrels. “I think if you’ve seen the other messes so far, you’ll have a good idea anyway. Just so we’re absolutely clear, here’s a demonstration.”

Amanda yanked the first lever, and one of the barrels tipped over in much the same fashion as always. The gunk inside seeped out slowly in a thick, sticky blob. It had an orange colour and was slightly translucent, with a mushy texture. At least, that’s how it seemed to look. “It’s jam. I guess that it’s some fruit beginning with Q…” Tiffany started as she sniffed a tiny glob of the blob which had landed on her hand. The rest of it had dumped itself on her head and slowly ran down the sides.

“It’s Quince Jam, to be specific. Very expensive stuff, but when it comes to messes, we aim squarely to give out the best… or something.”

“What is a quince anyway?” Tiffany asked.

Amanda shrugged her shoulders. “Google it some time. We’re behind schedule as it is, so let’s not waste time.” She lowered the second lever.

Whatever a quince was, the jam you could make from a bunch of them didn’t look like the kind of stuff Quinn didn’t want in her hair. She hunched over, with her hands covering the top of her head. A tiny drop of the jam hit her on the knuckle of her right ring finger. She moved her hands away and looked up asking “Was that all?”, rather naively as Amanda yanked the lever down and sent the rest of the Quince Jam onto Quinn’s face. The metal diva flinched as the Jam ran over her, seeping down into the gap in her top. She squirmed, but smiled bravely. Her nerves had gotten the best of her once, so she decided to try and end the shoot on a high note. After all, this was the first time most of the viewers had ever heard of her! What kind of first impression was she giving by nearly wimping out at the last moment?

“Okay Quinn, we’re done here! You’ve already met Troy, so you know who to go to for your picture,” said Amanda.

“Okay,” Quinn said as she stood up. “It’s been interesting!” And with that, she left the stage, found the jar of Quince Jam on the backstage table and stood with it, ready for Troy to take the photo. Her pose was an attempt to make up for trying to cover up her head. She took the lid off and tipped it over her already Jam-covered head. The perfect moment for a shot was fleeting, but Troy managed to get it just at the right millisecond.

Meanwhile, Ms. R was about to take the stage…

Leave it up to the one metalhead to find someone really niche even by his own tastes in order to avoid cheating, right? ;)

Sorry for taking so long. I was pretty demotivated for a while. Thankfully I don’t have anything to do until part Z!

1. The C-word is banned, and the F-word should be used sparingly*.

2. Disappointing clips can and should be criticised without using hateful language against the participants or wishing violence upon them.

3. All members of the community are to be treated with civility, even when you disagree with them. Personal attacks, name-calling and swearing will not be tolerated.

4. No individual member is an arbiter of what is or is not worthy of posting or discussion.

5. The existing ban on impersonation and sock puppetry stands.

6. Being a prolific poster does not exempt you from following rules 1-5.

7. Those who break the rules will be put under moderation or, in severe cases, banned.

8. There’s a big internet out there. If you don’t like the rules, go elsewhere.

*Rule 1 does not apply to stories.

I will admit now that I am not very familiar with Seraphim – certainly not to the extent that I’m familiar with the other bands whose members I’ve written about in the A-Z. The Agonist, Arch Enemy*, Delain, Stream of Passion and Lahannya are all bands I’ve either seen live (SoP), own albums of (The Agonist) or both (the rest). Seraphim fits none of those categories. I hadn’t heard of them until I was looking for possible female celebrities to write about for part Q. Really, pretty much all I know about them is that they’re from Taiwan, they play power metal, and their vocalist Quinn Weng has done a photoshoot where she’s barefoot in some sort of dress thing in a pool.

Also, I’ve added a “photoshoot” category, for circumstances like this where someone takes part in a photoshoot with wet and/or messy aspects. It seems to be a niche we’ve overlooked, so consider sorted for the future.

…then pushed in the pool… then soaked with beer again… then pushed in the pool again…

Miley Cyrus smears some kind of black paint/oil on herself in her latest music video. I wonder whether this means she’s ok with getting slimed now.

Thanks to @mynd4life. Sports presenter Ashley Adamson presents a short compilation of sports pieings, and then gets a pie in the face herself. Video here (I’m working on a download).

Wam Jake posted an alert on this a couple of weeks ago. The Idoling girls meet another idol group called LinQ, and play them in the famous stone-paper-scissors game (losing comprehensively in a 5-0 drubbing). As Jake pointed out, this is newest generation of girls and most are too young to feature here, but here are the two who meet the cut. Not the best pies this show has produced, tbh.

“Best Pie in the Face Video EVER” is pushing it, but it’s a decent pie and it’s well thrown.

Another episode from a week ago. The first woman avoids the pie. The second also correctly guesses the video, but gets the pie anyway.

This story is purely a work of fiction. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Chapter 7

Ginger and Red’s lips parted.  The gooey chocolate blob reluctantly released Red’s face with her hands, and let her hands drop back into the frosting.  A little shiver went through her body.

Red looked at her.  “Are you OK?  Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”  A second shiver went through Ginger’s body.

“OK, don’t worry, baby.  I know where the thermostat is.”  Red walked over to the wall, between two of the large mirrors, and twisted a large gold plate, exposing a control panel behind it.  She increased the temperature in the room by a few degrees, then looked around the room.  The sun had completely set and the windows were now dark, with a dusting of stars faintly visible in the night sky.  The room was now only lit by the chandeliers and the lamps.  Red lowered the lighting to give it a dusky, romantic aura, then covered the control panel.

She returned to Ginger, who was dropping handfuls of chocolate frosting onto her breasts distractedly.

“Am I boring you?” asked Red.  Ginger giggled and shook her head.  “OK, I raised the heat in here a bit.  It’ll take some time.  It’s a big room, but you should start feeling warmer eventually.”

“Thanks, Alex.”

Red took a deep breath, then exhaled it slowly.  “I’m gonna get in there with you, all right?  I think that should warm you up a bit, too.”  The two women laughed.

Red pushed the trolley of cakes and pies between the two tubs, and placed the bowl of Reeses Pieces onto it.  She took the silver box that held the other jelly dildo, and placed it on the top shelf, with the lid open.  Her walking motions caused the pussy balls to resume their gentle rolling motions, and she imagined what it must have felt like for Ginger when she fucked herself with the jelly dildo earlier, filling her pink cunt tightly, the silver spheres pressing up against her pussy walls.  “Later,” she thought, trying to eliminate the thought of that delicious sensation out of her mind, but it continued to tease and tempt her at the fringes of her consciousness.

Red moved to the side of the tub, near the head of it, and facing the mirrors.  Ginger moved around until she was facing Red, her back to the mirrors and facing the darkened windows.  Red began to slowly unbutton her purple blouse as she looked deep into Ginger’s eyes.  She occasionally glanced down to note her progress, her black hair hanging in her eyes a bit.  After it was completely unbuttoned, Ginger’s eyes focused on the bare exposed skin between the silky fabric, extending from her neck, between the curve of her boobs, and down to her belly button.  Red removed the top, and dropped it delicately onto the floor.  Her breasts were now free and unfettered, magnificent and glorious in their ripe curves.  The mini-skirt was loosened, and Red shimmied out of it, shaking her hips from side to side as it eased down the curve of her pantyhose-covered legs.  As it approached her ankles, she delicately lifted one foot free, then the other.  She rotated around, then bent over at the waist to pick up the skirt and satin top from the floor, and also gave her lover an eyeful of her sexy, tight ass, smothered in the sheer off-black pantyhose.  She wiggled her derriere alluringly, then slowly straightened up.  She balled up the clothing and tossed it away from the tubs.

With her back still to Ginger, Red bent her left leg backwards at the knee, and reached behind herself to ease her peep-toe heel off her foot.  As it came off, she wriggled her toes around playfully, then placed her foot back onto the floor.  She held onto the side of the tub with her left hand, and repeated the process with her right foot.  She took both shoes in one hand, and tossed them to the side, the clatter as they hit the floor echoing in the room.

Red turned around to face her friend, and Ginger drank in the sight of her standing there, wearing only her pantyhose.  The crotch of her sheer hose was stained with her come from before.  Ginger began to imagine licking and sucking at the sticky hosiery, feeling the nylon on her tongue and lips, the combined taste of Red’s cunt juice and the fabric in her mouth, before pressing her tongue forward, a thin layer of nylon rubbing against her tongue, as she probed and licked at her lover’s clit, to send her into a squirming orgasm.  But she sat patiently in the tub.  “Not now,” she thought, but she resolved to do that at some point in the future.

Red hooked her thumbs on the waistband, and leisurely began to wriggle and pull the hosiery down her legs.  She felt the warming touch of the room’s air waft over her hot pussy.  The pantyhose was gracefully removed to expose her bare legs and feet.  Red was now completely naked.  She held the nylon in her hands, and brought the silky, milky crotch up to her mouth.  Her pink tongue emerged from between her lips, and she licked and sucked her cunt juice from the fabric.  Ginger whimpered, desperately wanting to join Red in the erotic experience, and she began to rub her thighs together, stimulating her pussy balls into action.  Red closed her eyes sensuously, and continued to hungrily suckle at the stained nylons, until just a patch of saliva remained at the crotch.  She pulled the nylon away from her tongue, balled them up, and threw them to the side.  Red stood by the tub, resplendently nude and keen to join her lover in the deep, sticky, and delicious frosting.

Red moved directly in front of the tub, facing Ginger.  She placed both of her hands on the sides of the tub, and lifted her right leg up, and slowly eased her foot into the frosting.  She murmured appreciatively, and caught Ginger looking at her pussy intently.  Her position had exposed her pink treasure, which was beginning to ooze a fresh trickle of pussy juice, to Ginger’s eyes.  Red pressed her foot down, making sure that she had a firm footing.

“Don’t fall,” said Ginger.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.  It’s not too slippery.”

Delicately, she lifted her left leg up, over the lip of the tub, and then brought her foot down into the frosting.  She squirmed her feet around, stirring the goo around her feet and calves.  She lowered her ass onto the lip of the tub, the cool porcelain pressing into her creamy, warm flesh.  She pulled her hands back until they were by the side of her ass, and spread her legs apart as much as she could.  Her pussy lips parted, and Red squeezed her vaginal muscles, just to feel the smooth surface of the balls within her again.

She looked at Ginger seductively.  She licked her lips provocatively, her pink tongue tracing the outline of her ruby red lips.  “Go ahead, suck my pussy,” she said huskily.  “I know you want to.”

Ginger squirmed forward as close to Red as she could.  She moved her head forward, and buried it between the milky white thighs of her lover, while she reached with both hands and wrapped her arms around Red’s upper thigh, gripping them tightly.  Red felt the cool frosting from Ginger’s body now pressed up against her formerly clean skin.  She gasped as Ginger darted her tongue out and began to lick at her clit.  Ginger traced her tongue in dizzying patterns all around Red’s swollen clit, then pressed her face forward even more, her tongue penetrating deeper into Red’s dewy pussy.  Red pushed her hips forward marginally, increasing the pressure exerted by Ginger’s twisting tongue.

“Ooooohhh,” she moaned, balancing precariously on the edge of the tub, while a human-sized blob of frosting continued to lap hungrily at her pussy.  She tilted her head back, and breathed out a sigh, before a spasm of pleasure ran through her body.  She moaned again, feeling Ginger’s warm breath and wet tongue buried in her sopping cunt.  She felt her toes curl, and she was approaching the brink of orgasm, when she felt Ginger pull her face away.

“Noooo!” she said.  “Don’t stop.”  She looked down at Ginger.  Her cheeks were now somewhat clean, the frosting having rubbed off onto her own thighs.

“Get down here with me,” replied Ginger.  “I have a better idea.”

Taking Red’s hands in her own, Ginger squirmed backwards, while Red slowly lowered her ass into the frosting.  She felt the rich chocolate caressing the back of her thighs and welling up around her pussy, until finally she was sitting in the tub, her bottom half completely engulfed.

“Perfect,” said Ginger.  She giggled, and said, “This should be interesting.”  A dawning realization came over Red, and she looked at Ginger in amazement.

“I think I know what you’re planning, but…”

Ginger laughed.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll show you.  Put your legs up,” she instructed, and Red folded her legs up at the knee, and held onto the front of her calves with both hands.  She spread her legs as wide as possible, and she felt the frosting oozing into her now gaping pussy.

Ginger wriggled farther back, the frosting starting to become easier to move around in, due to the increased warmth in the room.  She put her hands on the floor of the tub, and stuck her ass up into the air, putting herself on all fours.  She brought her head close to surface of the frosting, and moved her head between Red’s open legs, close to her pussy which was deep beneath the surface.  She looked up at Red, winked, then plunged her head beneath the surface.  Quickly, Red felt Ginger’s nose bump into her mound, which was quickly followed by a tongue slipping into her slit.

“Oh my God,” she squealed.  Ginger gave her friend a quick tongue-fucking, then pulled her head free of the frosting.  She blindly gasped in breaths of air, then dunked her head back down.  She wormed her head closer, and spiralled her tongue deep into Red’s clit.  The taste of frosting and warm cunt juice filled her mouth, and she ignored the sensation of needing to breathe as much as she dared, twirling and gyrating her tongue vigorously.

Red gripped her ankles tightly, and tried to spread her legs apart even more, to give Ginger as much access to her leaking pussy as possible.  It was an incredible sight to see Ginger’s frosting-coated face emerge, grab a few quick breaths, then dive back down below, to continue her ministrations on her spasming pussy.  The stop-and-go rhythm merely delayed her orgasm, and after a few minutes of this, she groaned deeply.

“Oh, God, please, I’m gonna come soon…” she panted.  Ginger had lifted her head out, and was also panting in deep breaths.  With dogged determination, she pushed her head down, and brought Red to a shattering climax.  Her lover’s pussy juice spurted out into the frosting as she tilted her head back, her face clearly showing the effects of the orgasm.  Red’s hands gripped her ankles tightly, and her toes curled as the tingling rush ran through her body.  Ginger sucked greedily at the luscious delicacy within Red’s pussy, gave her clit a final swirl with her tongue, and pulled her head out.  The two women were both gasping for air.  Ginger sat back up on her knees, and cleared her eyes.  Red was still breathing heavily, and looked drowsily at Ginger, her mind slowly coming back into focus, her skin flushed a gentle pink that was slowly fading.  She released her ankles, and let her legs unfold, to rest them completely outstretched on the bottom of the tub.

“My God, how many times can we come tonight?” she asked Ginger, her mind spinning.

Ginger laughed.  “I don’t know.  We’ve still got all of that,” and she gestured at the trolley and the other tub of chocolate fudge.  “And also, you’re still pretty clean.”  Red looked down at her chest, her succulent boobs and erect nipples free of any messy coating.

“I suppose I am.” She looked up, and saw Ginger reaching for a cream pie from the trolley, grinning wickedly.

“I think I can fix that.” Ginger replied.

Red laughed.  She placed her arms onto the edges of the tub, and looked Ginger directly in the eyes.  She smiled and said, “Do your best, my love.”

Ginger hurled the cream pie directly into Red’s face.  SPLATT!!  It exploded into a shower of white cream and crust.  The bits of broken crust slowly oozed down her face, plopping onto her breasts and into the frosting.  Ginger took another pair of pink cream pies, and plastered Red’s boobs with them simultaneously.  Red grunted at the impact, then moaned, tilting her head back slightly, her eyes closed in contentment as Ginger rubbed the pink cream all around her breasts, paying special attention to her swollen nipples with her fingers.  Ginger lightly pinched and pulled at Red’s stiffening teats, eliciting a deep groan from her.  Red’s earrings swayed gently, the diamonds catching the subtle light in the room, throwing glittering stars onto her creamy cheeks.  More pies followed in a steady stream of cream, cherry, blueberry, and an occasional black forest cake.  Red’s beautiful face was soon a complete mass of cream and dripping goo, as it ran down her cheeks, chin, and neck.  Her breasts were also coated in inches of gooey cream, broken crust, chunks of chocolate cake, and assorted fruit fillings.  Ginger giggled as she watched a single cherry ooze down Red’s cheek before plopping down onto the mass of debris that covered her bosom.

Ginger inched closer, brought her face close to Red’s tits, and began to hungrily suck at her engorged nipples.  She ran her tongue up and down the contour of Red’s messy breast.  She pushed her tongue deep into the sweet slop that smothered the boob, then doubled back to swirl it around the sensitive nipple.  Red moaned and bit her lower lip.  She felt Ginger’s tongue and lips begin to trail kisses from her breasts, up her gooey chest, and then along her neck and cheek.  She could smell the delicious combination of the assorted creams and cakes along with the chocolate frosting that surrounded their naked, soft bodies and that still coated Ginger’s entire form.  Their lips touched, and Ginger moved her hands to hold Red’s face tenderly.  Their lips and tongues darted and intertwined, each girl tasting the sweet, yummy goo on each other.  They were so close, their ripe, heavy boobs pressed up against each other as their nipples slid and rubbed together.  Their lips parted reluctantly, each girl breathing heavily.

Ginger giggled, and Red tilted her head questioningly.  “I just thought, I haven’t kissed your ass lately,” said Ginger.  She twirled her finger around, and Red understood.  The girls untangled, and Red got onto her knees, bent forward at the waist and placed her hands onto the edge of the tub, facing the mirrors.  She watched the reflections, and saw Ginger take a cream pie from the trolley.  Red waved her ass around a bit, and then SPLATT!!  Ginger slapped the pie onto the curve of Red’s tight ass, and a fresh spattering of cream and crust flew up into the air.  Ginger smeared the tin around, then lifted it off and let it clatter to the floor.  A black forest cake was next, covering Red’s bottom in a fresh layer of cherries, chocolate, cream and yummy cake.  Ginger looked at Red’s puffy labia, curving ever so enticingly beneath her ripe ass cheeks, hovering between her beautiful, gooey thighs.  Ginger pressed her middle and index fingers together, and slipped them into Red’s cunt easily.  Red grunted in surprise, then pushed her ass backwards.  Ginger’s fingers found Red’s pussy balls, and she wiggled her flexible digits around, sending the balls into random slithering motions within Red’s tight, pink cunt.

Red moaned, and closed her eyes.  Here she was, coated in layers of frosting, cream, and goo, having her lover finger-fuck her in a tub of frosting, and all she could think of was how damn good it felt.  She clamped her pussy muscles down onto Ginger’s fingers, and whimpered when her friend slowly pulled them out.  She kicked her feet in frustration, and murmured, “No.  Please, put them back.”

“Shhh,” Ginger said soothingly.

Red wiggled her butt invitingly, then felt a fresh pair of cream pies slap onto her derriere.  Her pussy was gaping now, and she felt the cream slither down between the cheeks of her ass and ooze into her sopping pink slit.

Ginger took a handful of the Reeses Pieces, and sprinkled them onto Red’s upturned ass cheeks.  A second handful followed, which adhered to the irresistible frosting-coated curves of Red’s butt.  She bent her head forward, and placed a loving kiss on her lover’s bottom.  She began to lick and suck the candy pieces off Red’s butt, feeling her warm, tight flesh underneath the goo.  A shiver ran through Red’s body and her flesh goose pimpled briefly as Ginger’s tongue darted close to her pussy.  Ginger murmured appreciatively, and continued to run her tongue along Red’s ass, enjoying the taste of all the cream, cake, cherries, chocolate, and frosting that adhered to it in thick layers.  When her bottom was clean of the candy treats, Ginger took a chocolate pudding and cream pie, and slapped it onto Red’s ass.  Her derriere was now coated in a fresh layer of goo, and Ginger nodded to herself in satisfaction.  She placed a quick kiss onto Red’s butt, her lips leaving a small spot of clean flesh behind.

“There, now that’s the way to kiss an ass,” Ginger softly murmured to herself in satisfaction.

Red was now arching her head back, thrusting her butt out as far as she could go.  Her breathing was getting heavier, and her breasts were gently rubbing against the cool porcelain, causing her nipples to ache slightly.  Her pussy quivered, and she longed to feel Ginger’s fingers back inside her twat.

Ginger took a fresh handful of candy between her fingers, and with her other hand, spread Red’s pussy lips apart, exposing her cunt.  She curled her fingers and gently pushed the candy into Red’s pussy.  Red squealed, feeling the little Reeses Pieces slide into her pussy.  She gasped in shock as she felt Ginger’s tongue follow them.  Her eyes widened momentarily, then shut tight as her face revealed the torrent of sensations emanating from her sensitive pussy.

“Oh God,” Red groaned, and again her feet drummed a random pattern on the floor of the tub.  Her pussy bucked and quivered as Ginger’s tongue was jammed deep within her sweet tasting snatch, her nose bumping up deep between her ass cheeks.  Ginger flicked her tongue around, trying to gather up the peanut butter treats.  Red whimpered, squealed, then felt her breath stop for a moment, as she tried to stop the impending orgasm.  A quick swirl of Ginger’s tongue, her warm breath on her clit, followed by the dancing pussy balls, and Red’s pussy exploded again in yet another orgasm.  A stream of pussy juice came gushing out, drenching Ginger’s lips and tongue.

Ginger savored the incomparable taste, and sucked even harder at Red’s pussy.  The feeling of her warm, soft pussy lips pressing up against her face, her nose buried deep between her lover’s sweet cheeks, hearing her moan and groan in ecstasy, was an exquisite symphony of delight to Ginger’s ears.  Satisfied that she had gathered up all of the candy treats, she slowly pulled her tongue free, and heard Red whimper in disappointment.

With a naughty glint in her eye, Ginger took three fingers, and swiftly thrust them up into Red’s twat.  Red gasped, her eyes widened in surprise and pleasure, then half-closed, as Ginger began to slowly finger-fuck her friend.  The soft SHLURP of Ginger’s digits as they slid in and out while she randomly curled them around into different positions, was accompanied by Red’s increasingly loud moans and grunts.  Ginger was careful to vary the angle as well, sometimes digging her fingers deep within Red’s hot pussy, and other times angling them to the side, never letting Red anticipate clearly where the next thrust would occur.  Ginger pushed forward, until her own tits were pressed tightly against Red’s ass, allowing stronger leverage as her body pressed closer.  What she lost in depth in her finger fucking was replaced by more power and greater variety, as her fingers merrily danced a bawdy waltz within Red’s twat.

Ginger’s fingers were now forcefully pumping in and out of Red’s tingling, sopping pussy.  Red slowly groaned, gasped, and then screamed, “Oh, fuck!”  A fresh spurt of pussy juice erupted from around Ginger’s fingers, which dribbled down her slick digits and ran along Red’s pussy lips.  It hung in thin, beaded strands from her cunt, swaying gently before dripping onto the frosting below.  Red was gasping for air, her mind an incoherent swirl of pleasure and desire.  She looked at her reflection in the mirror, a gooey nympho, and she saw Ginger’s eyes looking back at her.

Ginger eased her fingers free of Red’s twat.  Red watched in fascination at the reflected image of Ginger bringing her come and frosting-coated fingers up to her lips to suck them clean, her eyes closed in ecstasy.  Ginger slowly pulled her fingers out of her mouth with a small shlurp, and opened her eyes.  Both girls smiled at each other.

Red looked at the tub of chocolate fudge next to her. “Just one more thing,” she murmured, and saw Ginger’s eyes look at her questioningly. “Stay here,” she said, over her shoulder, and Ginger pulled back. Red oozed free of the frosting and stood up in the tub. Her beautiful body was coated in the sugary mixture, and blobs of it slowly oozed down her skin. She carefully got out of the tub, and reached for a creamy white pie from the trolley.

SPLATT!!  Red smashed the pie into the girl’s face, and peeled off the silver plate.  Ginger remained motionless, as the broken crust and white cream slowly oozed down her face.  Red reached for a pair of pink cream pies, and gave Ginger a pie sandwich.  The pink cream obliterated the sides of Ginger’s head, and the spatter mixed with the white cream on the front of her face.  Red heard a faint moan emanate from the gooey blob before her, and she reached for the last cake from the trolley.  She squatted down while still holding onto the heavy chocolate cake, rich with layers of chocolate and vanilla icing and gooey cherries, and carefully balanced it on the edge of the tub, supported by her hand.  She reached forward, and grasped a handful of Ginger’s hair.  Tenderly, lovingly, she massaged Ginger’s gooey tresses, softly guiding her face closer to the cake.  Ginger was completely blind, her eyes closed tightly underneath the coating of cream and frosting.

SPLUTT!!  Red pushed Ginger’s face into the cake, and dragged her head back and forth to smear as much of the cake and cream across her face as she could.  Ginger’s moans were muffled by the thick dessert, and she dipped one of her hands back into the frosting, running her palm along the curve of her mound, and began to gently massage her pussy.  Red continued to drag Ginger’s face in the cake, until she was satisfied that it was as messy as it could be.

Red pulled Ginger’s face free of the now destroyed dessert, and placed the empty, messy plate back on the trolley.  Ginger sat quietly, emitting an occasional squeak as her finger slipped in and out of her tight slit, as hunks of cake oozed down her face.  Red released her hold on Ginger, and ran a finger across the messy girl’s cheek.  She sucked her finger clean of the assorted, sweet goo, and watched as Ginger slowly opened her eyes.  The messy cherub looked angelically back at Red, her face plastered with thick layers of sweet goop.  Red leaned closer and kissed Ginger on the lips.  Their tongues darted out, and the sweet taste of all the sugary treats filled their mouths, accompanied by smacking lips and faint moans that were the opening adagio to the erotic duet to come.

Red removed the remaining jelly dildo from the box.  Ginger plunged her own hands deep in the tub, and located her jelly dildo from before. She had almost forgotten about the pussy balls, her movements had been so slow and leisurely for some time now. Her pussy twinged as she remembered fucking herself earlier, and she realized that Red had not yet used the dildo. She watched as Red eased her body into the tub of melted chocolate fudge next to her. Slowly, lovingly, Red sat down in the thick goo, her back to the windows and facing the mirrors. Ginger squirmed around into the same position, until both girls were deep in their respective tubs, their entire bodies buried beneath the frosting and fudge, with just their heads free, resting on the wall of the tub. With her right hand, Red slowly eased her jelly dildo into her pussy, and began to thrust it in and out. She reached out with her left hand toward Ginger, who responded in kind, and their gooey hands clasped together in amorous pleasure, their fingers entwined.

Ginger began to plunge her jelly dildo in and out of her own pussy. Both girls grunted, moaned, and squirmed as the thick cocks explored their pink, tight slits, causing the dormant pussy balls to roil and churn yet again. Waves of tingling pleasure radiated from their pussies, their legs squirmed and tightened, their breathing intensified, accompanied by the occasional moan or groan. The dildos continued to lunge and thrust in and out, in and out, at a quicker and quicker pace. The girls gripped their lover’s hand tightly, attuned to the other’s sounds and moans, then the familiar dizzying orgasmic wave began to wash over them.

“Oooohh, fuck!!” screamed Ginger, while Red uttered an incoherent stream of squeals and gasps. Their pussies exploded in ecstasy, and a fresh stream of juice rushed down around the jelly dildos, spurting around their puffy, engorged pussy lips, and leaking into the surrounding frosting and fudge.  Both girls screamed passionately and plunged their bodies beneath the surface simultaneously while releasing their grip on each other. A roiling mass of frosting and fudge quivered and convulsed within the tubs.  Their hips bucked, their legs squirmed and writhed in erotic ecstasy, and their pussies erupted with a fresh round of cunt honey. The surface of the fudge and frosting continued to churn for some time, as each girl writhed in sexual euphoria beneath the surface, the jelly dildo filling their tight cunts.  The sapphic duo luxuriated thoroughly in the salacious experience as the last orgasm of the evening suffused their trembling bodies.

——————–

Natalie handed Kate the jelly dildo she had found in the silver box.  Natalie pointed at Ginger, who was dropping the blobs of chocolate onto her breasts.  “She looks so beautiful like that, doesn’t she?”  She knew that she wouldn’t receive a reply from Kate, who instead was looking at Ginger intensely on the other side of the glass mirrors.  “Go ahead, dear.  You keep watching those two, and I’ll just sit here and watch you enjoying yourself a bit.”  Natalie smiled at the muddy blob wallowing in the tub, with just her eyes peeking out at her, swimming deep within the sea of thick, rich mud surrounding them.

Natalie ambled to a chair that was near the fire, and sat down.  From that spot, she could see the Duchess in the tub of mud, and also the pair of lovers in the reception room.  She crossed her legs, admiring how her glossy copper-colored stockings shimmered in the firelight.  She alternated between watching the Duchess, who was gently slipping the jelly dildo within her royal pussy, and Ginger and Alex.  She observed Alex perform her slow strip tease for Ginger, and she felt her own pussy stir at the sight of her friend slowly slipping off her pantyhose, to stand naked before Ginger.  Her hand drifted down underneath the soft satin panties that were caressing her pussy, and a finger slipped into her own slit, which was starting to ooze juice.  She curled her finger, and pressed her fingertip against her pink clit, while her puffy pussy lips surrounded her digit.  The warm flesh of her mound and pussy was also massaged by the pressure of her hand, and she tipped her head back, closing her eyes to revel in the experience.  She had enjoyed so much seeing Ginger coated with goo two days earlier, and had loved  being with Red at that time, getting to finger-fuck her friend to an orgasm, then finishing everything off by licking the strawberry frosting from Ginger’s warm, slippery pussy.

She looked back at the Duchess, a blob of mud buried deep within the tub.  She watched the mud’s surface ooze up and down rhythmically above Kate’s hand, as the jelly dildo was being thrust with increasingly deeper and stronger stokes into her royal, pampered pussy.  The room was silent except for the crackling fire, the sound of Kate’s moans, and the occasional plop or burble of mud from the tub, joined by Natalie’s own moans of pleasure, as she voyeuristically followed the erotically charged acts of all three women.

The Duchess was lost within her own world of pleasure.  She watched intently as Ginger was kissing Alex, and again she longed for the touch of a woman with her just like that.  Instead, although Natalie was with her, she was alone in the tub, and the dildo, although it was very pleasurable, could not compensate for the soft touch of lips, or the press of gooey boobs against each other, arms and legs intertwined sensuously deep within the tub.

Kate cast a quick glance at Natalie.  Her eyes were closed, her fingers moving beneath her lacy panty, while her lipstick-covered lips were slightly parted in lustful pleasure during the occasional moan.  Kate’s eyes lingered over her legs and stockings, the coppery glow highlighting the tempting curve of her calves and thighs.  Kate imagined running her tongue up and down Natalie’s calves, clad in the silky stockings, feeling the thin nylon beneath her tongue, inhaling the scent of the hosiery and the perfumed scent of Natalie’s own warm flesh.  She watched as Natalie continued to masturbate, her panties hiding the erotic sight of seeing her slick finger plunging into her cunt.  Natalie grunted, and her legs shook a bit, while one of her feet trembled and shook in nervous sexual anticipation in her high heel.  Kate imagined kneeling at Natalie’s feet, having rained kisses onto her beautiful legs, to nestle her tongue in between her thighs, and tongue-fuck her to a squirming, screaming orgasm.

A myriad of thoughts ran through her mind.  Natalie clean, clothed in her finery, as Kate pushed her into the tub of mud, her clean skin engulfed by the thick, slippery muck as it soaked into her lacy lingerie and stockings.  Kate joining her, their arms and legs entwined in the goo, their lips locked together in a flurry of kisses, their stiff nipples rubbing together, their sensitive clits grinding against each other, legs quivering in ecstasy, all culminating in an ecstatic, simultaneous orgasm.

The thought of that flashed through her mind in an instant, and she felt her pussy begin to twinge and spasm.  She thrust the jelly dildo deeper, the pussy balls roiling again and again in a dizzying sensation of stimulation and eroticism.  Kate’s eyes returned to observe Ginger and Alex, and she watched in envious jealousy as the two lovers experienced their simultaneous orgasm.  She imagined doing the same with Natalie, and with just a few more quick thrusts of the dildo, her own snatch exploded with juice.  She groaned and moaned, and pushed her head backwards into the mud, submerging completely beneath the surface.  The mud hungrily sucked her deep down, and the roiling surface of the mud danced in the firelight as the Duchess experienced her own intense orgasm.

Natalie watched in amazement at the sight of Katherine’s total and complete immersion, and she felt the faint stirring of a desire she had not felt before race through her body.  She watched the roiling, churning surfaces of the three tubs of goo, filled with frosting, fudge, and mud, as the trio of beautiful women writhed in blind, silent orgasmic ecstasy, their tight, pink pussies filled with large jelly dildos as their cunt juice squirted and dribbled from warm, slippery slits.  Natalie grunted and uttered a low moan, and felt her own pussy spurt warm juice onto the fabric of her panty.  She gasped, felt her legs tighten, riding the crest of the orgasm, then her limbs slowly relaxed as the orgasm eased down and faded off.  Her eyes half-closed dreamily, the heat of the fire suffusing with the tingles running through her body.  She slowly eased her finger free and sucked at her sweet juices.  Her lips left a faint lipstick trail behind, glistening in the warm firelight.

——————–

“Why won’t you get messy with me?”

Natalie froze, the washcloth that she was using to clean the Duchess with halting in mid-air.  The two women were now in the washroom that Natalie had used earlier.  A large porcelain bath tub was in the center of the room, and Natalie had managed to wash the Duchess clean of all the mud from her body.  Her wet, golden hair clung to her shoulders and back, the soapy, sudsy water covering the water’s surface and parts of her naked body.  Natalie looked at Kate.  Her light gray eyes were free from anger.  Instead, they were filled with frustration and want, mirroring the tone of her question.

Natalie moved the washcloth forward, and began to rub gently at Kate’s skin.  She sighed, and said, “We’ve had this discussion before, Kate.  You know I like being with you, and I don’t mind at all that you like to get messy.  And yes, I do like seeing you messy, or even other people.”  She hesitated, then continued, “But I’m not ready, yet, to get messy myself.  Maybe next time, OK?”

“Next time.  That’s what you always say.”  The Duchess let more irritation creep into her response than she intended.

Natalie let the washcloth drop into the water.  She stood up, and looked down at Kate.  “I’m sorry.  I’m just not ready to do that.”  She sighed, and closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts and choosing her next words carefully.  She opened her eyes.  “I know that you’re used to people doing whatever you tell them to do.  That’s not how it is with you and me.  You don’t own me, and you don’t own Ginger or Alex.  You know that, whether you care to admit it or not.”

The Duchess looked at Natalie, then broke her gaze as she turned her face away.  “You’re dismissed, Natalie.  Please leave, now.”  Kate commanded in an icy tone.

Natalie sighed.  “Yes, my lady.”  She left the washroom, and left Katherine sitting motionless in the tub.

The Duchess opened her mouth slightly to call out to Natalie, but she hesitated, and the apologetic words were not spoken.  Kate listened sadly as the sound of her attendant’s footsteps faded away into silence.