Things have been a little quiet here recently, so I thought I would get the ball rolling on a little discussion.  I was thinking to myself of the many wam stories I’ve read, and how often the wam-ee seems to be set up to, in one way or another, deserve it.  This isn’t always the case, but when it is, often it follows a fairly standard pattern; a trope, if you will.  And what strikes me as a particularly popular trope is the idea that a person can be deserving of a wamming if they are guilty of vanity.

Sometimes it’s the head cheerleader who cannot hide her sense of superiority.  Sometimes it’s the boss at work who orders around her underlings without a hint of respect.  The main thing is they will be good looking and well aware of it, and this itself will be the magnet for the mess.  The stooge will be written up with lovingly detailed descriptions of their outfit and accessories, with notes of how proud they are of their appearance and how much time and expense they went to in order to achieve it.  And that’s the ironic twist – that effort and expense are undone in an instant as something awful goes splash all over them.

Interestingly it’s something I (think I) have tended to avoid in my own fiction.  I don’t know that much about fashion and the idea of vanity in and of itself deserving a put-down just strikes me as (forgive the pun) old-fashioned.  I enjoy exploring other motivations for pouring a bowl of pudding over somebody, and some of my stories have even involved self-wam, which is pretty much the opposite of vanity.  Yet it is a classic idea and the foundation of many a wam scene and story, and as such provides a shorthand way of understanding the psychology of the incident without spelling it out.  We all know intuitively that someone who takes pride in their appearance will be aghast at having it so unexpectedly transformed.  If stories work on the principle of problem-reaction-resolution, it is a satisfying resolution to have the problem pulled down a peg and know exactly why it bothers them so much.

Now, your turn.  What kind of tropes have you noticed in wam, and what do you think of them?  Do you have a favourite?  Least favourite?

One for the wetlook fans. The channel that makes Tigerenten Club (that German show where teachers get dunked in soapy water) has been posting full episodes for the past few years – the recent ones in HD. Perhaps this is common knowledge in the community, but it’s a new discovery for me and I’ve not seen it mentioned here before. I’ve gone through and identified the ones where a female gets dunked. I like the swift dunk-in-pull-out mechanism here. Would be even better with gunge.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42

A few weeks ago, XWammer posted on the requests page asking after ebony WAM, something that I myself am very fond of. Black women are among the most beautiful females on this planet, and it is a real joy to see the contrast of cream on dark skin, or curly afro hair getting flattened by gunge. It’s also something of a relative rarity, both within the community and beyond. I’d had it in the back of my mind for some time to make a dedicated ebony WAM post, and this recent request has spurred me to do it.

The below list is not exhaustive. I hope that others will jump in with stuff I’ve overlooked, and I intend to add more myself. I would be great to have as much as much ebony/black WAM collated here as possible. So here goes:

Caroline on GYOB – perhaps my favourite GYOB of all time. As one comment on the video puts it, “If u look closely u can see her thick black hair disappear into the gunge very sexy”.

Josie D’arby on GYOB – an appalling sport for wearing a cap and refusing to go under.

However, she did also get pied on To Me To You.

Angelica Bell gunged well on Live and Kicking and not so well on the Saturday Show.

Pam Grier in a muddy catfight in 1971 film The Big Doll House

Halle Berry slimed at the KCAs – pics here, crappy video here – I’ll try to arrange a better one.

Tanya Chisholm on Figure It Out

Elsa de Vassoigne (Roger Black’s then girlfriend) plus decoys on NHP

Sabrina “for goodness’ sake” Washington on I’m A Celeb part 2

Juliana Alves in a food fight in Brazilian novela Ti Ti Ti (28 mins)

Jerry Springer – “Turkey” pied for thanksgiving

Richard Bey – Gossip has the beans spilt on her
Wedding wreckers made into cakes
There’s also a “Wall of Shame” scene where mothers pie their miscreant daughters, but I can’t find it.

Two members of girl group 411 get the gunge and foam on MoM

Sinitta on Sing If You Can

Monique Coleman self-pies on a game show

Big Brother Africa

Freema Agyeman emerges from slime in Dr Who

Jasmine from Redwood gets pied

Kosplay pie challenge

An old scene from Family Matters

I’m pretty sure there’s a scene from Saved by the Bell in which a well-dressed black lady gets pied.

Trailer for Bride vs Bride

Numerous black girls pied in Vevo’s Guess the Video

Family challenge mom pied

Driving academy

Family Wipeout (5 mins and 8 mins)

Plenty of great mess with girl group Bonde das Maravilhas on Passou ou repassa

The producer of Slime Time Live gets pied

Chromakey slow-motion paint gunging

Coins for camp – spectacular sliming and ok food dump

Pies and eggs at a sorority event

Best friend challenge

Colourful goop in line-crossing ceremony

There was a civilian vid called “Empire gets pied” in which a black lady in a business suit gets very nicely pied. It’s been taken down now and the computer I have it downloaded to is out of action, but maybe someone has it?

That’s it for now – please everyone post more ebony mess!

Readers in the UK will probably be aware of the recent exploits of a student backpacker called Eleanor Hawkins. For those not in the know, Miss Hawkins, along with several travellers of other nationalities, found herself in hot water after stripping naked atop a mountain summit in Malaysia. It seems that the immodest act not only incensed the mountain’s mortal residents, but also angered the local god, who expressed his displeasure with an earthquake a few days later. Miss Hawkins potentially faced some serious jail time, but happily was set free after paying a fine, and is now back with her family in England.

The following story is not about Miss Hawkins or any of her fellow travellers, nor is it specifically set in Malaysia, but it is inspired by said events. It’s also my first fiction writing in half a year, so I’m a bit rusty.

“This is an outrage, a disgrace! Completely unacceptable!” Tessa Montague-Fawkes ranted as she paced up and down the narrow gap between the pair of bunk beds (as best as one could pace in such a confined space). “What makes them think they have the right?”

Stretched out on her hard, narrow matress, Sarah Steadman sighed as she surveyed a spider at work in the springs of the above bunk. “Who knows what got into them? Maybe being the police in this area makes them think they have the right to, uh… police things?”

“Well wait til my daddy gets here. Then we’ll see who polices who.” Tessa picked up an earthenware drinking vessel from a squat table between the bunks. “PLEUGH!!” She spat through rasped lips. “This water is warm!” She marched to the cell door. “Room service!”, she called sharply. “Hello, anyone there? ROOM SERVICE!!”

Sarah cringed. “Tess, this is a prison, not the Ritz. Be thankful that your human rights are being respected… unlike those of most visitors to the UK.”

Tessa harrumphed. “It must be against my human rights to have to wear rubbish like this”, she complained, scratching at her hessian prison uniform.

Tessa, 18 years old, stood six feet tall with a large yet lean frame – attributes that had served her well in the rowing team of her Surrey girls’ school – and an ample endowment in the chest department. Straight, flaxen hair flowed from a centre parting down to her mid-torso, framing a face that still bore week-old sunburn. She had wide-set blue eyes, a small, hawkish nose, and full pouting lips. The daughter of businessman and Tory MP Sir Stanley Montague-Fawkes, Tessa was using her father’s money to “see the world” before commencing a course in business and management at the University of Exeter.

Sarah, a prospective linguistics student at UCL, was also 18, but that was where similarity with Tessa ended. The daughter of a couple of leftist academics, she had been raised in West London on a stodgy diet of neo-Marxist theory, washed down with Palestinian olive oil. But for all her proletarian bluster, Sarah’s family were in fact even wealthier than Tessa’s – something neither of them liked to acknowledge. Shorter than Tessa but taller than the female average, Sarah had a leggy figure and a modest but perky bust. Her face was a pleasing heart shape, blessed with high cheekbones and beset with deep chestnut eyes, and her brunette hair was styled in an unfussy shoulder-length cut.

Rain lashed against the prison walls, now a barely-noticed background noise after several days of incessant downpour. A fine mist wafted through a small, barred window, delivering the fresh fragrance of sodden vegetation as a welcome counterpoint to the jail stench. Intently watching the moonsoonesque deluge were the emerald eyes of Imogen Fraser. The 19 year-old possessed an exquisite petiteness and baby-face that necessitated her carrying proof of age wherever she went, though the subtle signs of womanhood were there to be seen by anyone who perused her figure. As she knelt on her bunk beside the window, her curly flame-red hair draped down over back, ending just shy of her tight and tiny bum. Hailing from the Isle of Skye, Imogen was lined up to study English Lit at St Andrews after her gap year.

“Fer the rain it raineth every day”, she brooded.

However, it was not supposed to rain every day in this part of the world. Not like this. And herein lay the girls’ troubles.

A gong sounded from somewhere inside the jail, marking the hour with three dull chimes.

“That’s one hundred hours”, came the voice of the room’s fourth occupant, Laura Johnson, who was languishing on the bunk below Imogen.

“Ye what?”, asked Imogen.

“We’ve been incarcerated for one hundred hours”, Laura replied. “Or four days four hours, if you prefer.” She paused. “Or nine and a half Saturnian days. Or 295 half-lives of carbon-11…”

At 22 years old, Laura was the eldest of the improbable group. Having already obtained a degree in Natural Sciences from Cambridge, she was taking some time out to travel before starting a PhD at CERN. In principle, she could have kept a responsible eye on her younger companions, but in practice she was too absorbed in a world of facts and figures, which she could recall and compute with astonishing speed. A dark-skinned afro-brit from Birmingham, Laura was 5 feet 8 tall and had a healthily curvy figure. Her long black hair was braided, and true to her geek persona she wore a pair of unfashionably large, round spectacles.

“…Or eighteen million strokes of a hummingbird’s wings.”

“It’s TOO BLOODY LONG, that’s what it is!”, barked Tessa, marching back to the door. It was at that moment that the door groaned open and Tessa found herself nearly colliding with a burly guard.

“Room service at last!” Tessa ranted. “Look at this water – it’s warm! What do you think you’re playing at!?”

The impassive jailer made no acknowledgement of Tessa’s existence, but instead ushered two visitors into the cell. The first was a wiry Caucasian man in a checkered shirt and khaki shorts, looking like he’d stepped out of a colonial timewarp. A shock of grey hair, roughly brushed into a side parting, sat above a sun-addled face, the centrepiece of which was a moustache that must have had hours of twizzling in the making. Behind him stepped a diminutive woman, scarcely reaching five feet, bearing the darker skin-tone and Asiatic facial features typical of the local population. A pinstripe skirt-suit clad her tight body, and her black hair was cut into a short style that bordered on the severe at the back and sides, but was tempered by a feminine quiff at the front.

“Good afternoon, Ladies”, the man spoke in a classic tea-and-tiffin accent. “I’m Lionel Fairfax, from the British Consulate. And this is my personal assistant, Miss Ann Chung.”

Fairfax bent over and kissed each prisoner’s hand in turn – much to Sarah’s chagrin – and Chung followed up with a surprisingly steely handshake for such a slight woman. The prisoners had initially gauged her to be thirty, but a closer inspection of her youthful visage betrayed that she was barely older than themselves.

“Have you come to free us?”, demanded Tessa. “About time!”

Fairfax regarded Tessa with a crooked smirk beneath his twizzled moustache. “I must say, Miss Montague-Fawkes, you’ve grown into a big girl since your christening.”

“You were at my christening?! So you know Daddy?”

“Why of course – I fagged for Monty at Eton”, Fairfax revealed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

“Is he at the consulate? Can’t wait to see him!”, beamed Tessa. “Hope you have the Bolly on ice!”

“Your father isn’t in the country”, said Chung coldly, in an RP accent as clipped and crisp as Fairfax’s. “And I wouldn’t count on leaving this jail any time soon.”

Fairfax nodded grimly. “You ladies have got yourselves into a nasty spot of bother with your mischief.”

“Give me a break”, huffed Tessa. “All we did was flash our bits at some old monument.”

“Aye, ye see lasses wi less on fer a night oot in Glasgy”, added Imogen.

“It wasn’t ‘some old monument'”. Chung fixed Tessa with icy contempt. “You desecrated the temple of Wam-pie-goo, one of our most sacred sites.”

“Indeed”, nodded Fairfax. “And I’m afraid the priests took a rather dim view of your behaviour.”

“Those patriarchs?”, snorted Sarah. “Must feel threatened by the female form if you ask me.”

“Yeah, who cares what a few old beardy-wierdies think?”, chimed in Tessa.

“Unfortunately, it’s a bit more serious than that”, said Fairfax, gesturing to the meagre window. “See this weather? Most untypical for the time of year. It’s flooding homes and playing havoc with the crops. And the locals blame you for it.”

“Huh?” Four jaws dropped simultaneously.

“They believe that your actions have angered the god, er… what’s his name again?”

“Wam-pie-goo”, Chung filled in. “This rain is his retribution for your immodesty. Water is a speciality of his, you see.”

“But that’s ridiculous!”, piped up Laura. “Don’t the locals realise that the anomalous precipitation we are presently experiencing is caused by a low-pressure vortex interacting with an occluded front?”

“No, they don’t”, replied Fairfax, who evidently didn’t either.

“I guess if we cause offense in other countries we stand to be judged by their belief systems”, reflected Sarah. “Are we looking at jail time?”

Fairfax scratched his chin and looked at the floor. “In your case, Miss Steadman…”

“Ms Steadman.”

“… and also in yours, Miss Fraser and Miss Johnson, a likely sentence is two years. Eighteen months if you’re lucky.”

There were gasps from the trio. Imogen began quietly weeping.

“Only for those three? So I’m getting off with it?”, grinned Tessa. “I knew Daddy would sort it out. So long, suckers!”

“Not so fast, Miss Montague-Fawkes”, said Fairfax. “Your companions only exposed their upper halves, whereas you went the whole hog, as it were. That’s a far more serious crime, and carries a much stiffer sentence.”

“What?” Tessa’s grin evaporated. “How long?”

“I hope you don’t have plans for your twenties”, Chung simpered.

Tessa was shell-shocked. “This can’t be happening!” She resumed her pacing of the cell. “This can’t happen. Not to a British person!” She turned angrily on Fairfax. “What’s Cameron doing about this? Daddy needs to get onto him to take action!”

“Unfortunately, we’re outside of British jurisdiction, so there’s not much the PM can do”, Fairfax informed her.

“This is a sovereign nation, Tess”, added Sarah.

“Nonsense! Send in the RAF and we’ll see who’s boss!”, Tessa ranted. “Give ’em twenty-four hours to release me or we nuke the place!”

“Erm, wouldn’t that kill you?”, frowned Laura.

“Ladies, let’s not get carried away!”, said Fairfax. “Luckily there is an alternative to jail, as Miss Chung will explain.”

“I’ve been in discussions with the priests and they are willing to pardon you”, said Chung, “so long as you revisit the temple and each perform an act of penance to Wam-pie-goo.”

The news brought much cheer to the despondent girls. “Why didnae ye tell us that before?!”, cried Imogen.

“Whatever, I’ll do it”, Tessa nodded.

“Jolly good!”, smiled Fairfax. “Then if we’re all agreed, Miss Chung will arrange for the penances to be performed tomorrow.”

“Wait, I’m an atheist”, said Sarah. “As much as I respect their beliefs, it’s against my principles to take part in organised religion.”

“Suit yourself, Steadperson”, shrugged Tessa. “If you want to spend a couple of years in a jail cell with only your principles for company, that’s your call. As for me, I’m doing this silly penance thing and getting the hell out of this tin-pot country.”

“But we don’t know what the penances actually entail”, Laura pointed out.

The four looked expectantly to Chung.

“The exact nature of your penance will be decided on a individual basis by the priests. But let me warn you: it won’t be as easy as saying a few prayers.”

“This isn’t good old C of E, I’m afraid”, Fairfax chipped in.

Chung continued. “The penances are designed to teach humility, and you will duly find yourselves… how shall I say, publicly humbled by the experience.”

“Publicly humbled? How exactly?”, asked Sarah warily. “Can you give a specific example?”

“Maybe a demonstration would be best.” Chung battled to contain a smirk. “With your permission, Mr Fairfax?”

“By all means, Ann”, nodded Fairfax.

Chung spoke with the jailer in their native language, then turned back to the prisoners. “Follow me.”

The four girls followed Chung and the guard down the corridor, until they came to a door leading out to the muddy courtyard, the opposite side of which was barely visible due to the driving rain. Chung stood to one side of the door. She motioned Tessa, who was first in line, to step through.

A gust of wind caught a sheet of the rain and blew it inwards at Tessa, causing her to flinch as it wetted her front and face. “Go out there? Not bloody likely!”

“You don’t have an option.” Chung shoved Tessa through the doorway, again showing surprising strength for her size. Tessa bleated in indignation as her feet splashed in the mud. The full force of the rain beat down upon her head and torso. In quick succession, Chung cajoled Tessa’s three companions through the doorway.

“What the fuck ye dain?”, exclaimed Imogen, as the girls turned round to see the door slam behind them. Within seconds they were soaked. The rain blasted their hair against their scalps, flattening Imogen’s curls, weighing down Laura’s braids, plastering Sarah’s bob against her face, and turning Tessa’s wheatfield locks a dull woody brown. The rough hessian uniforms imbibed the rainwater like sponges, hanging uncomfortably against the girls’ bodies, and threatening to slip off completely.

“Let us in! How dare you! YOU BITCH! LET US IN!”, Tessa hollered and pounded on the door. Laura, Sarah and Imogen resigned themselves to their soggy fate and huddled together as best they could protect themselves in the barren courtyard. Within half a minute, all were fully saturated, yet the ordeal wore on. The barrage from the heavens almost seemed to force its way through their skin.

Whether minutes or hours later (actually, Laura timed it to 5 minutes 21 seconds), the door finally reopened. The bedraggled prisoners squelched their way inside, their shoulders remaining reflexively hunched as they sought refuge in the dry. Water ran from their prison uniforms in rivers. By this time, even Tessa had lost the will to speak, and the four stood staring at Chung in shocked silence.

“What th… what the hell did you do that for!?”, Sarah eventually spluttered.

“I thought you were going to demonstrate a typical penance.” Laura shivered, removing her glasses.

“But I did”, said Chung with mock surprise.

“That wa’ the penance?”, frowned Imogen. “The penance is to stand aroond gettin’ drenched?”

“Not exactly”, smirked Chung. “The penance is likely to involve something more… substantial. Consider this a taster. Now, back to your cell. Hope it doesn’t take too long to dry off.”

Imogen, Laura and Sarah were too incredulous – not to mention bedraggled – to argue, and waddled off obediently with the guard escorting them. As usual, it was Tessa who stayed behind to pick a fight.

“That your idea of a joke?”, Tessa hissed, rainwater continuing to drip from her hair and her nose as she accosted Chung in the doorway. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“No who the hell do you think you are?”, Chung rejoined. “Half of my consular work is cleaning up after loutish tourists. Smarmy, spoilt, boozed-up brats who think the rest of the world is their urinal to piss all over. But you – you put the rest of them in the shade, Miss Monty. You think the whole world revolves around you. Well guess what? Tomorrow it will, but you’re not going to like it. All of the world’s media will be at the temple tomorrow, and I’m going to make sure you get a worse punishment than the other three girls combined. You’re going to get the humiliation you deserve, Miss Monty, and there ain’t nothing ‘Daddy’ can do about it.”

“Why you little bitch!”, growled Tessa, barely able to believe her ears. “Let’s see how you like being shoved out in the rain!” Tessa grabbed Chung by the lapels of her suit and made to push her through the doorway. But the Asian wouldn’t budge. Despite Tessa’s considerable size advantage – and all that rowing training – her petite adversary remained rooted to the spot. This made Tessa even more furious, and she shouted and swore as she ineffectually threw her weight against Chung.

Chung didn’t break a sweat. “You want to be careful”, she purred. “You might slip and get a faceful of mud.”

Tessa felt her legs being kicked out from beneath her, and began to fall fowards against Chung. Chung leapt to one side, leaving Tessa with a clear trajectory through the doorway, and then gave Tessa a shove for good measure. Time slowed down for Tessa as the slick of light, clayish mud that coated the courtyard loomed up towards her. There was nothing she could do; she was going down. She opened her mouth to scream…

SPLUT!! Tessa’s slo-mo descent came to an abrupt end with a wet, cloying slap to her face and front. The mud flowed into her open mouth and obscured her eyes. She could feel it permeate her already sodden hair and flow inside her uniform, oozing along her cleavage.

“GREEEUUUUGH!!!” Brown-faced and mortified, Tessa staggered to her feet, spitting out the rank muck. Between the mud in her eyes and the lashing rain, she couldn’t see a thing. She felt a draught around her legs and realised that her trousers had slipped down to her ankles. Cursing as she spat, she began to bend over to pull them up…

THWWACKKK! A sharp blow was delivered to Tessa’s chest, sending her sprawling backwards. She landed in angel formation, sending mud splurting in all directions.

“EUUGHHH!” Tessa slowly levered herself up through the rain. Her hair, back and legs were completely coated.

“Having fun down there?”, Chung’s smug voice chimed somewhere above Tessa.

“YOU EVIL, WICKED BITCH!”, roared Tessa. “Wait til I get my hands on you!”

“Oh, you want some more do you?”, retorted Chung.

Floundering in the mud and rain, Tessa managed to manoeuvre herself into a squatting position. BOPPP! Chung’s foot connected hard with Tessa’s backside. Tessa jolted forwards and landed once more on her front in the mud, aquaplaning across the courtyard. The sopping, cloying mud washed over her face and hair, and piled up in what remained of her clothing.

“What’s all this commotion?”, Fairfax’s voice approached. “Oh my golly gosh!”

“She tried to escape, but she slipped over”, explained Chung, “I do hope she hasn’t hurt herself!”

“Miss Montague-Fawkes, behave yourself!” exclaimed Fairfax. “Playing silly beggars isn’t going to help your case!”

Tessa raised her face from the morass. “She’s lying!”, she spluttered. “The bitch is lying! SHE DID THIS TO ME!”

“That’s quite enough, Miss Montague-Fawkes. You expect me to believe that a tiny lady like Miss Chung could do that to a big girl like you? Pipe down at once and return to your cell… or I shall have to have words with your father.”

Fairfax’s closing threat seemed to have a pacifying effect on Tessa, who meekly crawled out of the rain and staggered to her feet. Chung and the prison guard regarded the soaked, mud-caked girl with amusement, exchanging wisecracks in their native language. Tessa turned to stare daggers at Chung, but then did a double take; Chung had not a single drop of mud or water on her. Not one fleck. Her pinstripe suit was spotless, her tights were bone dry, her shoes gleamed like mirrors.

How could this possible if Chung had been out there mauling her in the mud? Had it been someone else? But Tessa was convinced that it was Chung’s voice she had heard towering over her.

Chung smiled sweetly as Tessa’s eyes swept incredulously over her petite figure. “See you tomorrow for your penance, Miss Montague-Fawkes. I’m looking forward to it.”

cc0

Fairly slim pickings from the Dreaming Spires this year. Perhaps the eggs, flour, custard and beans of yore are too pricey for student budgets these days. Good thing jumping in the river’s free.

So, according to a notification I saw on WordPress, I registered for this account four years ago. Doesn’t feel like it at all, but it apparently has. Wow.

Don’t have a lot to say this year. I mean, four years isn’t that much of a milestone really. I suppose it’s the entire length of one American Presidential term, or the amount of time between major sporting events such as the Olympics or World Cup. Then again, as someone who pays minimal attention to US politics and sports… I suppose when I started writing I didn’t think I’d still be writing four years later. I’ll probably say that every year, though.

So, for the future… My main priority will be getting The Pairing Game back on schedule. I’ll also try and contact PML about part Y of the A-Z, or write one myself if I can’t contact him. I’ll also part Z and the epilogue, which I was going to do anyway. I’ve also got some ideas for stories featuring some of my other characters too. I’ve also got a few ideas for future editions of Suzi’s Slop Drop and The Pairing Game, as well as side-stories featuring some of the various Suziverse characters. Hopefully I’ll get to do some of those too. I’ve been pretty bogged down with non-WAM stuff lately, but my schedule should be freeing up a little bit.

“Testing, testing, one two”, Maria Jaczinski repeated, as her sound man sought to extract her voice from the pounding of rain on the temple roof and the hubbup of the other news crews packed into the designated press area. She brushed back her mid-length, dirty-blonde hair, then casually placed a hand on her jean-clad hip. Initially she had rocked up with her pale pink shirt tied around her midrift, so as to exhibit her toned navel, but the solemn air of the temple and its priests had made her think the better of it, and said shirt was now respectfully untied. She didn’t want to end up in the same predicament as the girls she had come to report on.

Maria was Polish, but had worked in the UK for the past ten years as a journalist and social media personality, and was presently a frontline reporter for the independent and irreverent internet channel Nowhere News. Though 41 years old, she could easily pass for 30. Her shapely figure and slavic cheekbones had built her a solid following among male viewers, but she had also won wider respect for her incisive and insightful journalism, proving that booty and brains could indeed coexist.

Despite her successes, Maria had for some years been splashing against the sides of the small pond she occupied, always hopeful that her next scoop would launch her into the news-media premier league. When a mysterious, well-spoken woman had phoned her yesterday, with a tip-off that the arrested backpackers would be facing possibly cruel and certainly unusual punishment, Maria had jumped on the first plane. Alas, from the throng of reporters that had converged on the temple, it was evident that many others had been alerted too.

That twat from the BBC has got a much better position from me, Maria fretted to herself. Damn those goons who held us up in Customs!

Through her earpiece, Maria heard the studio newsreader preparing to hand over to her. She swished back her hair once more, and fixed the camera with her light hazel eyes. “Well hello dere folks! You join me live at de Temple of Wan-Pie-Goo, high in de beautiful moutains of de Kingdom of Gunjor”, Maria announced in her strong but engaging accent. “It was here dat de ‘striptease four’ were arrested five days ago. Today dose girls return to atone for deir misdeeds. Dis promises to be a fascinating demonstration of de justice system of dis secluded part of de…” Maria paused as the latest update came through her earpiece. “…and I have word dat de prisoners arrive right now!”

Sure enough, a prison van heaved its way up the final stretch of the mountain track and juddered to a stop outside the temple steps.

“Now remember Ladies – tip-top behaviour”, Fairfax advised as the detainees prepared to disembark. “With a bit of luck we can get this ugly matter cleared up in time for afternoon tea.”

“Don’t do or say anything unless instructed to”, warned Chung.

“Errm, Tessa”, Imogen whispered. “Ye still got a wee spot of mud behind yer ear.”

Tessa thanked Imogen with a scowl for her troubles, and scratched away the dried mud.

Flanked by guards, the prisoners emerged from the van into a gauntlet of flashbulbs and shouted questions.

“Hello ladies! Do you know what punishment you are facing today?”

“How are they treating you in prison?”

“Miss Montague-Fawkes, what do you have to say for the embarrassment you have caused your father?”

“Hi girls! Fancy doing a shoot for Bloke magazine? Wearing nothing but backpacks?”

“Hello dere, ladies!”, Maria called. “So why did you remove your clothing in de temple?”

The girls didn’t get an opportunity to answer her question, but the answer would have been different for each of them. For Imogen, the reason had been to commune with the restless carnal spirits of the mountainside; for Sarah, to liberate the female form against oppressive societal norms; for Laura, an experiment into the effects of the high altitude on the human physiology. In Tessa’s case, it had been a few too many measures of a bright green liqueur in a local bar the night before.

The prisoners left the media scrum behind them and traversed the temple floor, with the suit-clad Chung leading the way. The temple was hewn entirely from a light greenish rock that prevailed in the region. A vast roof, supported by huge pillars, provided much-welcome shelter against the elements. Beneath this, the temple was mostly open-plan, though interspersed with smaller internal buildings. Embedded in the floor were numerous fountains and pools. While some of these, as one might expect, gushed with crystal-clear water, others flowed with less orthodox substances. For example, one pool bubbled with thick brown mud, while one fountain sprayed a bright yellow substance that bore the distinct smell of custard.

Some of the decorations were similarly questionable – a statue showed two women engaged in some kind of a brawl, each thrusting a dessert into the other’s face. A mural depicted some kind of ritual in which a young maiden was seated in a cubicle, with a substance being dropped on her from a compartment above. There were also various contraptions and devices assembled throughout the temple, extremely intricate in their construction, though dubious in their purpose.

Fairfax issued a parting plea for good behaviour and went off to smoke his pipe on a bench. Chung ushered the prisoners through an archway into one of the enclosed buildings, down a passageway and into what appeared to be some kind of changing room. Four white robes hung on hooks. “The robes of purification”, Chung gestured.

Tessa passed the material between her fingers. “More cheap clothing”, she grumbled.

“You are to wear no other clothing other than your underwear, and you must go barefoot too”, Chung instructed them. “Be ready in five minutes. Now, I must go and make some… preparations of my own.”

The four girls took off their prison uniforms and put on the robes, which were were all the same standard size. Tessa’s proved overly tight and short, while Imogen was at risk of tripping over hers. The material was extremely fine, and wouldn’t offer much protection against anything wet or sticky that might come the girls’ way.

“Typical, they chastise us for taking our tops off, then they want us to wear next to nothing”, complained Sarah.

Chung returned shortly and led the four back into the open, delivering them to a grand square at the very heart of the temple. At the opposite end of the square, three priests, clad in green robes, sat on thrones. Chung took a bow and prompted the prisoners to do the same.

The priest sat on the central throne picked up a piece of paper. “Lau-ra John-son”, he read, mauling the English name in his mouth as if it were a sour piece of fruit.

“That’s you!”, hissed Chung, pushing Laura into the centre of the square. The other three breathed a collective sigh of relief, though they knew their reprieve would only be temporary. Laura shuffled her feet and fiddled with her glasses as she stood in the priests’ glare.

The head priest barked a few sentences and his co-clerics nodded in agreement. Many though Laura’s mental abilities were, inferring obscure Eastern languages was not among them. However, Chung was on hand to provide a translation.

“The priests have decided your fate”, the Asian revealed with a satisfied smile, “Laura, you love to be bombarded with facts and figures; now you must face the Pie Pod of Penitence. Come with me!”

Chung led to Laura to another square, situated in the corner of the temple. In the centre of the square was a stone plinth, from the top of which protruded two posts. Chung instructed Laura to stand on the plinth, between said posts. She then proceeded to tie Laura’s wrists and ankles to the posts, such that the curvy black girl was stretched between them in an X shape.

The lenses of the world’s press trained on the unfolding spectacle. “Dis is science genius Laura Johnson”, Maria commentated to her viewers. “She’s due to start a PhD at de Large Hadron Collier… but right now she has collisions of a different kind to worry about!”

Surrounding the plinth were dozens of stone catapults, arranged in several concentric rings so as to point towards the plinth. On the end of each catapult’s arm sat a Tiswas-style pie, composed of a layer of coloured frosting with a generous coating a creamy foam on top.

They appear to be levers of some sort, Laura deduced, as she perused the arrangement before her. If the catch is released, then the spring-loaded mechanism will apply a large moment about the fulcrum. This will give the pie sufficient momentum so as to be projected into the air.

Chung rechecked the tightness of her knots and then jumped down from the plinth. “Enjoy yourself sucker!”

The pie will then follow an approximately parabolic trajectory, until it comes into contact with the ground… or another object, Laura’s machinations continued. Interesting… the levers that are further away look like they’re set to project their pies further. In fact, it looks as if all the pies will converge on a single focal point. Which appears to be… Laura rattled off the calculation in her head. “…where I’m standing!”, she cried.

“And FIRE!!”, shouted Chung.

TWANG! A catapult directly behind Laura was the first to deploy. The pie flew through the air and, with a resounding splut, scored a perfect hit on the ebony girl’s fullsome ass.

“Oooo!”, moaned Laura, swooning slightly against the ropes as she felt the cool cream seep through the thin robes and into her panties. The foil pie tin slipped to the floor, revealing a hefty covering of white cream and light blue frosting covering her behind.

TWANG! A catapult in front of Laura fired. The pie arced through the air and smacked into her left breast, spurting cream and orange frosting across her front.

“Oh my!”, Laura cried, as she watched another catapult launch. Her eyes widened as she computed the destination of this projectile. Sure enough, the pie socked her square in the face, blasting her pretty features with cream and green frosting, and coating her glasses. In quick succession, a yellow pie from the left and a red pie from the right sandwiched her head. Then a purple pie from behind came crashing down on the top of her head, completing the ruination of her braided hair.

The barrage intensified. Now blinded by pie, Laura tried to judge where each missile would land from the location of each respective twang. She screamed and jolted against her restraints as the pies pelted her all over – on her front, back and legs, in her hair and at her feet. She could feel the cool creaminess of each one through the fragile fabric of the robe. The dark-skinned girl soon turned a dazzling, creamy white, interspersed with pastel shades. At one point her glasses fell off, leaving two circles of relatively untouched skin and granting Laura some vision. This proved to be short-lived, as another pie slammed into her face.

Meanwhile, Imogen, Sarah and Tessa stood watching in disbelief. “Shit, is that gonna happen to us?”, shuddered Imogen. Tessa, in particular, was deeply worried, remembering what Chung had told her during yesterday’s encounter: “I’m going to make sure you get a worse punishment than the other three girls combined“. In the journalists’ enclosure, Maria and her fellow commentators also watched with a muted awe.

The ammunition became depleted, and the onslaught of pies dwindled to one or two laggards. The catapult directly in front of Laura was one of the last to fire, its payload exploding right in her crotch. Laura let out a deep moan and slumped against the restraining ropes. The cream and frosting continued to slide off her body and plop to the base of the plinth.

“Well folks, dat was quite some pieing! And quite some justice!”, Maria commentated. “Should we instigate dis kind of sentence for petty offenders in Britain? It would certainly bring some life to our town centres! As always, tweet your views @mariajaczinski.”

A hand wiped Laura’s eyes and she discovered that Chung had clambered back up beside her. In a rare display of kindliness, Chung picked up Laura’s glasses, wiped them clean and replaced them on her face. Laura was left breathless by the bombardment, but as she returned to her senses, a smile began to rise under all the cream. Her calculations had been correct.

The priests came to stand at the edge of the array of catapults. One of them raised a hand and uttered a few incomprehensible sentences.

“You are duly pardoned”, Chung told Laura, as she began to untie the restraints. With a slight grudging tone she added, “You are now at liberty. Free.”

“Wooo!”, Laura pumped her fist.

“But that doesn’t give you licence to misbehave here”, said Chung. “This is a holy place, remem…”

TWANG! Unnoticed by everyone, one catapult had failed to fire… until now. The tardy tart swooped in from the left, making a beeline towards Chung. A gasp (not entirely negative in tone) went up from the spectators as the perilous pie homed in on the smart, suave, suit-clad assistant, swooping straight for the petite Asian’s face.

Chung didn’t duck. She didn’t even flinch. Instead she turned to face the projectile, as if daring it to strike her. When it got to within half a foot of her, the pie exploded in mid-air. Globs of creams and pink frosting sprayed out in all directions, some of it onto Laura.

Initially, everyone assumed the missile must have slammed into in Chung’s face, but when the mist of cream cleared, there was no evidence that the pie had gone anywhere her. Her face was clean, her suit pristine, her business-like hairstyle unsullied. It was as if every particle of pie had somehow veered away from her. Chung nonchalantly returned to untying Laura.

A murmur of disbelief rippled through the gaggle of journalists. Fairfax removed his pipe from his mouth and examined it, wondering exactly what he was smoking.

“Did you see that?”, Sarah nudged Tessa and Imogen. “What the fuck happened there?”

“I don’t know”, replied Tessa. “But something… something similar happened yesterday, when she threw me out in the mud. There was no mud on her legs or shoes or anything.”

“It’s like the lass has got some kinda invisible shield against mess”, remarked Imogen. “But that cannae be possible.”

Maria was also scratching her head. Had it been an optical illusion – some flukey trick of perspective? Or had she just witnessed an extraordinary event – a modern-day miracle? And who was this enigmatic Asian woman? Although Maria had only heard Chung’s voice from afar, it sounded awfully like the telephone tip-off that had led her here.

“Did you get dat?”, she hissed to her cameraman, who nodded.

Maria sensed she had an even bigger story on her hands than she had first thought. But if she was going to scoop it ahead of all the other journalists, she’d have to work fast. And she’d need to break some rules.

Maria watched apprehensively as a very creamy Laura squelched her way down from the podium. The penalties for upsetting the priests were great, but so were the rewards for uncovering this story. And Maria was determined to uncover it, no matter how messy it might get her.

cc0

It’s been about 6 months since I last published any stories, during which I’ve been working on this long novel length project called Paradise by the Fairground Light. As I write this intro I now have it about 95% done, and hope to be uploading 1 part per weekend for the next couple of months, although I’m not going to guarantee that, as real life could get in the way and stop me. It’s a story that started as an idea I’d been playing with for a while, as far back as while finishing with my Caroline Kronos series.
Now if you’ve read my previous work, and maybe Googled the names Bernard and Bianca you might know I’m a big fan of a Disney film called The Rescuers, featuring two main characters of the same names. Well I liked the idea of using the character development and basic plot as a starting point for my own story. That being a confident and outgoing woman meets a shy, but lovable man, and they fall in love when embarking on an adventure together. I played around with a couple of ideas to set this too, like a big competition, or an espionage caper, but the one I settled on, influenced by my own enthusiasm for the subject, was the setting of a travelling sideshow at a carnival.
From there I developed ideas for plot, characters and of course messy scenarios, including quite a few like this first one that developed from the setting of the series. I won’t delve into any further details, for fear of ruining any surprises, but I hope you enjoy it as an introduction to things.

Chapter 1:

Roll up, Roll up, gather all.
Come see delights that will enthral.
The greatest rides to make you scream.
Hot dogs and candy floss, taste like a dream.
Skee ball and hoopla, prizes to win.
The bright lights, the sounds will make your head spin.
Young or old, we‘ll see you there.
Come to the carnival, a place without a care.

You see that man wandering around this place of magic on his own, looking forlorn while others around him have fun frittering away the hours. That’s me.

It wasn’t always like this. Granted I’ve never been a major social butterfly, but there used to be a time when I wouldn’t spend one of my favourite times of the year on my own.
It might not surprise you to know a girl was involved, Sara was her name. I could spend forever going on about her, but I’ll try to give you a condensed version.
We met at school when we were 12, and started dating at sixteen, and for the next four years everything was great, well in hindsight not all great, but at least good. We kept regular contact and went out to dinner or the cinema at least once a week. Then after 4 years together we went on our second holiday together to Prague. What a disaster. She spent the whole holiday moping about and feeling sorry for herself because she was missing home, to the point she wouldn’t even walk side by side down the street, she spent most of the holiday following six foot behind me, rather than with me to try to get involved and have a good time. Of course when I said something to her she’d refuse to talk about things, preferring to spoil things for both of us instead of trying to put things right.
For the next 2 years things went downhill. She became obsessed with what people thought of her, or at least everyone except me. I’d not see her for a month at a time because she was afraid of upsetting her boss if she didn’t cover for every bit of overtime she was asked to do. She’d be afraid to hold hands in public as she feared complete strangers might not like it, or she‘d find it embarrassing. She’d let herself be stopped and hassled by hawkers and swindlers on the street as she was afraid to walk by with a no thanks.
Our relationship became more and more erratic. One day she’d be happily flirting with me, the next she’d call to say she just wanted to be friends, then change her mind when I said that meant I wouldn’t pay to take her out to dinner when she wanted any more.
Then there was her drinking that got worse and worse as the time went on. We’re not talking about heavy drinking when going out here either. She started buying large bottles of booze just to consume at her house. Towards the end she’d be refusing to do stuff, and cutting days out short, just so she had some booze money.
In the end the booze was the final nail in the coffin. During another of her nights of heavy drinking she started pestering me with messages and phone calls. I called her parents the next day and told them things had to change, and that this couldn’t go on. Half an hour later I get a call from her saying her parents don’t want us to see each other any more.

Of course I was upset, and angry. Angry for her for making no real effort. Angry at her parents for letting this go on, and maybe a little angry at myself for allowing it to happen.
That was 4 months ago. Since then I’ve felt a constant despondent loneliness. I have a few mates, but Sara was my only close friend, outside of my family. Everything I used to do with Sara I now had to do on my own. A day out anywhere, on my own. A trip to a show or concert, on my own. Now on the opening night of my favourite 2 weeks of the year, the Brighton Golden Gate Carnival, held on the seafront in Hove, everyone else was having fun with friends and family but I was on my own.

Chapter 2:

“Hey there Captain. Can I interest you in a good show.”
My gloom was temporarily interrupted by the approach of what I initially assumed was a promo girl. She was wearing a denim mini skirt, that had some sort of tiger tail decoration hanging from it. The tiger theme continued with a bare midriff strapless top decorated with a white, orange and black tiger stripe pattern. I found myself checking out her shoes, and saw the pleasing site of a pair of 6 inch stiletto platform pumps, decorated with black and white leopard print.
“Do you like my shoes” she asked, placing an affectionate hand on my shoulder.
I looked up, blushing a little at the embarrassment of being caught out. It was well worth looking up to see her beautiful facial features. She looked around the same age I was, with piercing blue eyes and baby pink lipstick bordering an affectionate smile. Her most striking feature though was her long hair, dyed a vibrant flame red, that formed a flamboyant mane to below her shoulders. The tiger theme was completed by a headband with a cute pair of tiger ears decorating them.
“Your shoes are very nice” I stuttered.
“You should come and see some of the other stuff I wear for the show” she said, leaning in a little closer to me. I nervously took the pamphlet she handed me.
“The Wild Cats” I read out. “Live music and dance spectacular.”
“It’s where I really get to strut my stuff” she said. “I’d really like to show you a few things.”
“I’ll definitely pay a visit at some point” I said.
“I’ll tell you what” she said. “Seeing as I think your so cute why don’t you have this.”
She reached into her little handbag and pulled out a pen. On my flyer she wrote the words admit 1, reserved, and signed it with her signature.
“That will get you in to the last show tonight for free” she said. “It’s when we do our really wild stuff” she said before leaning in and placing a quick kiss on my cheek.

It’s odd what you miss when a relationship ends. The sex is something I thought about in the first few weeks, but I soon got over missing that. What I really missed though was just the warm feeling that female interaction created. The affections of that woman had lit up a spark inside me I’d not felt for a long time. How could I resist the show where I might get too see her again.
I found the Wild Cat’s sideshow on one of the main midways. It was a large structure with fabric walls, including a large banner facing the midway. Below the banner was a raised platform where I spotted the girl I’d talked to earlier. I soon found out her stage name was Tigress. She was doing a preview show to entice in customers with two other women, both also wearing cat themed costumes, and sporting flamboyant long hair. There was a tall black girl called Panther whose hair had been styled into numerous long thin plats, some a natural black, others dyed pink and gold. The other girl was shorter and had fair, almost milk white skin with long jet black hair and was called Jaguar. As they made their big spiel I’m sure Tigress spotted me in the crowd and flashed an affectionate smile at me.
With the spiel over I was one of the first to head to the ticket booth where Panther had headed to sell tickets. It had occurred to me by then that the offer of free entrance might just be a way to get people to come over, and I’d still end up handing over money. It turned out I needn’t be concerned, not only did the ticket get me in, but I’d had a seat reserved for me on the front row, adjacent to the aisle near the centre of the stage. The viewing area consisted of about 200 folding wooden seats in several rows, and a large area to stand and watch the show behind that. The stage was another wooden platform, larger than the one out front, with two doorways at the back, obscured by curtains. Between them was another large painted banner, this time depicting 3 big cats, not unsurprisingly a black panther, jaguar and a tiger.

Around me the murmur of the crowd got louder as the tent filled up. Soon all the wooden seats were filled up, and it was standing room only at the back. Then the murmur dies down as the lighting in the tent went pitch black, and a loud jungle drum beat played over the sound system. As the drum beat got louder and louder no other sound could be heard as all eyes focused on the stage. Then suddenly 3 figures lit up in the middle of the stage. I’d seen paint that glowed on UV light used on ghost trains and fun houses numerous times, but here it had been used to decorate some brightly coloured costumes. The 3 figures put on an enthusiastic dance routine for the next several minutes, which thanks to the fact their costumes were the only thing visible in the otherwise pitch darkness created an amazing spectacle, until the music ended and they disappeared almost as suddenly they first appeared.
There was a brief pause before a spotlight came on, focusing on one of the doors at the back of the stage. My heart fluttered a little as out stepped the beautiful Tigress, wearing the same costume she’d worn on the midway earlier and holding a microphone. She introduced herself to the crowd, and then the music started and she started singing a lively rock n roll song. She wasn’t the most accomplished singer in the world, but she did things with enough enthusiasm and stage presence to keep everyone’s attention.
I watched captivated for the next 20 minutes as the show continued with a combination of spectacular dance and music numbers, enhanced with some good lighting effects, and a few other sideshow entertainments as one of the girls juggled, did illusions or swallowed swords.
The moment I shall always remember came towards the end though. Out came all 3 girls, wearing leopard skin bikini tops and hula style grass skirts. Jaguar and Panther were both carrying pairs of flaming torches which they used to dance with, juggle and even breath out spectacular ball of fire. My attention wasn’t focused on them though, for just a short distance in front of me, looking me directly in the eye was Tigress. She seductively crawled to the edge of the stage, where she playfully grabbed out in my direction. She then danced around on the ground in a sexy manor, while Panther and Jaguar continued to show off their fire juggling skills.
“Normally that’s how we finish our show” called out Jaguar, “but seeing as this is the last show of the evening we‘ve one last thing to show you we call the blood-bath.”
“For which we’ll require some prey from the audience” said Panther. “Tigress I believe you’ve located someone.”
I immediately realised they were talking about me. I’ve never been one for mass attention, and found myself rather reluctant to walk up the steps on the side of the stage. I looked out into the audience, at least I didn’t see anyone I knew.

Chapter 3:

Tigress greeted me and took my quivering hand and led me up the steps. I nervously waved towards the applauding crowd.
“It’s O.K. Captain” Tigress quietly purred into my ear, as she put her arms around me. “You and me are in for a great time together.”
A magical sensation quivered through me at the sensation of her touch and sound of her voice. I found myself momentarily forgetting about the crowd, and everything else in my life as our eyes met. With a wry smile she took my hand again and led me to centre stage, where while I’d been distracted what looked like a green inflatable paddling pool had been brought on. It was about 4 foot in diameter with an 8 inch high rim. Tigress stepped inside, and indicated for me to remove my shoes and socks. Now eager for whatever she had in store I did as I was told. As she stepped in she indicated for us both to kneel down on our knees.
That was the signal for the blood-bath part of the show to officially start. All the lights in the tent went out other than 3 spotlights on the stage. One on where Panther and Jaguar stood, and a larger light over the pool where me and Tigress were. A rhythmical jungle style drum beat started playing over the music system, and all 3 girls let their bodies gyrate to the rhythm. I watched intensely as Tigress swayed her hips, and rubbed her hands over her body. She then reached over and slowly began to remove my t-shirt. Normally I’m not comfortable going shirtless in public, but I was so captivated by Tigress’s charms that I didn’t even think about it. She threw my t-shirt to one side, and took both my hands and placed one on each of her hips. Then she placed one of her hands on my cheek, and tenderly caressed the other across my chest as she continued to seductively gyrate her hips in time with the music.

Then there was a sudden change of pace. The drumbeat stopped, and a sudden scream was heard over the sound system, and the spotlights on Jaguar and Panther went out. Suddenly from the ceiling poured down a trickle of a dark red coloured liquid. I edged towards the edge of the pool, but Tigress positioned herself in the centre, allowing the liquid to pour over her. The music changed to a more ambient jungle sound, as I watched fascinated as she slowly rubbed it over herself, until it covered every part of her body. I curiously swirled my hand in the puddle we were both sitting in. It had a thick, warm and gooey feel to it.
I saw Tigress wipe her eyes, and playfully look at me through the crimson mask that now covered her body. I was helpless to resist as she put her hands on my shoulders and pulled me in and under the stream of slime. I put my arms around her waist and closed my eyes. I was overcome with euphoria as Tigress massaged the slime across my neck and shoulders, and then slowly rubbed it down my arms and across my chest.
I felt Tigress’s hands resting on both my cheeks, I nervously opened my eyes, and saw Tigress’s beautiful blue eyes returning their gaze at me. We exchanged smiles, and I was overcome by a sudden desire to have those lips pressed against mine. Perhaps sensing my desire she leaned in and placed a warm and sweet kiss on my lips, before tenderly pressing her cheek against mine, while taking handfuls of the red slime and rubbing them down my back.
She leaned back and gave me a passionate look of desire. She took my hands from around my waist, and placed them on her wonderful feeling arse. She leaned in close, pressing her body against mine. She slowly gyrated her body up down against mine. I felt her hard nipples through her bikini rubbing across my chest, as the slime squelched between us. I heard her give out a quiet moan of pleasure, I found myself deliberately moving a little myself to increase the stimulation on her nipples. After a number of gyrations she made one last thrust upwards until her breasts were level with my eye line, where I nervously looked at them. They looked incredibly alluring covered in a layer of glistening red slime.
She leant back and down, we exchanged another smile looking each other in the eye. As we did this the slime stopped trickling down from the ceiling. She gave me a playful lock, before a snarling sound effect was heard over the sound system. She made a snarling gesture with her mouth, before softly biting my neck as the lights went out.
We continued to hold on to each other in the darkness, listing to the sound of each others deep breathing, as the audience gave their last round of applause. She broke contact just before the stage lights came back on where Panther and Jaguar were now standing beside us. Me and Tigress slowly stood up to take a final bow for the audience before I was led backstage.

Chapter 4:

It was about 15 minutes later. In theory I was getting cleaned up in the shower cubicle set up in the small backstage area, but I couldn’t really concentrate. I’d been led backstage while my coat and bag from the audience. The backstage area was a small continuation of the tent, costumes were hanging on a large rail and over the backs of chairs, and props I‘d seen used in the show were randomly found about the place. A couple of body length mirrors hung on the wall, and in one corner was some sort of electronic control desk, and the other was where the shower had been set up.
All I could think about was what I’d done with the beautiful flame haired Tigress out on stage. How our bodies had touched, the sensation of us both being covered in that red slime, how she’d let me touch her arse and how she’d tenderly kissed me on the lips.
What I really needed at that point was a chance to clear my head a little. It seemed though that other plans were afoot as the door to the cubicle was swung open.
“Are you cleaning up OK?”
I looked round, and my heart started pounding out of it’s chest. Standing their, still with a fare amount of red slime clinging to her body was Tigress. My immediate reaction was to cover myself up with my hands.
“It’s OK” she smiled. “There’s nothing there I don’t want to see.”
My breathing deepened and I was stunned into silence as her eyes keenly looked over my body.
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced” she grinned. “My name’s Hayley”
“I’m Mathew” I stammered. “I’ll be out in a minute, you can get cleaned up then.”
“Oh, I wasn’t planning on letting you go anywhere” she said.
My heart skipped as her previously obscured right hand came into view. In them she was holding a pair of chrome handcuffs. Flustered as I was, I could offer no resistance as she took my wrists and handcuffed my hands to a fixture above my head. She paused only to pick up some sort of toiletry can before stepping in the shower cubicle and closing the door behind her. I took a deep breath, as I realised I now was closely confined with this delectable beauty, who now had me under her control.
“Is that all they gave you?” she smiled pointing at the bar of soap on the shelf. “I’ve got something much more fun here.”
She held up the toiletry can, it said foam burst gel on it. She sprayed a handful into her hand, and then slowly rubbed it across my chest. I breathed deeply in response to the incredible feeling as she lathered up the gel, leaving my chest covered in a soapy foam. That was more than enough to excite me, but it was only a warm up for what she did next. Her hand worked it’s way down my body, until it was teasingly stroking my cock. I closed my eyes, tilted my head back and panted heavily, completely overcome. My wrists struggled in the handcuffs, desperate for more stimulation than she was teasingly giving me.
“Oh my God” I gasped as she took her hand away.
She put the gel on the shelf, and stepped in even closer to me, her body pressed against mine, her beautiful wry smile mere inches from my face.
“Is this the first time you’ve ever been handcuffed?” she flirtily asked.
“Yes” I gasped.
“Really?” she smiled. “You’ve never had someone have completely unrestricted access to your beautiful sexy body?”
I shook my head as both her hands took a firm grip on my arse. She looked at me suggestively as her hands slowly explored my arses contours, before slowly sliding up my back, and taking a firm hold of my head. She moved her head closer until our faces touched.
“Never had someone be able to do whatever they wanted with those beautiful kissable lips?” she said.
She leant in and we were locked in a passionate embrace. It started with both are lips passionately locked, before she softly bit my bottom lip. I traced my tongue across her top lip, savouring the taste of her pink lipstick. She then placed kiss after kiss across my face. My cheeks, my forehead, my neck, a nibble of my ear, and a lick of my nose before another final passionate kiss on my lips.
She moved back, and regarded me with lustful eyes, obviously enjoying seeing the effect she was having on me. She gave me a flirty smile as she picked up the shower gel. She sprayed another handful and this time rubbed it over herself. At a deliberately measured pace she slowly washed off the last of the red slime, replacing it with an equally enticing layer of lather, that made her skin glisten beautifully. Having lathered her arms and legs she playfully put some of the foam bubbles on her face and slowly rubbed her stomach until she work her way up to her breasts. She reached around behind her back and the back strap of her bikini tantalisingly fell down to her side. She teasingly dangled her top by the shoulder straps, looking me in the eye before slowly removing her top to expose her beautiful breasts.
She teasingly draped her top over my shoulder as she move back closer. I tingled as our bodies touched once again and she placed another heavenly kiss on my lips. My hands still struggled, so I reached up with my right foot to gently stroke her, wanting any contact I could get.
We regarded each other with measure deep breaths as she stepped back under the stream of water. She teasingly licked her lips as she slowly slipped her right hand down the front of her bikini briefs. I watched in fascination as she slowly caressed her crotch as her eyes lost focus and she quietly moaned. She then slowly penetrated herself with two fingers, rubbing slowly at first, but rubbing faster as the look on her face intensified. I was unable to take my eyes of her, until she gave out a last loud moan and she leant on me, arms around my shoulders, looking me directly in the eye as she caught her breath back.
I would have been happy if it had ended there, but she wanted to return the favour. Without breaking eye contact she reached down and started to firmly rub my now throbbing cock, running her fingers along the underside of my shaft. Almost immediately I lost all focus, other than on the ever increasing paralysing sensation. After a number of rubs she paused momentarily.
“Don’t stop” I pleaded.
With a wry smile she knelt down. She then started to massage the head of my penis with her lips, while stroking the shaft with her fingers. My wrists pulled on the handcuffs harder than ever as I let out numerous involuntary squeals. As the squeals intensified she took a firm grip on the base of my shaft with her hand, and took my penis deep into her mouth, stimulating the whole shaft with her lips and tongue. I was completely overcome by the sensation of euphoric pleasure, thinking of nothing else, until finally with one last gasp an overwhelming wave of intense pleasure hit me as I ejaculated into her mouth.

I was still recovering as she slowly got back up, and reached for the tap to stop the flow of water.
“Well that was fun” she smiled.
“Amazing” I whispered back.
“Well I’d better get dry” she said. “Then I’ll get the key to those handcuffs.”
She left the door open as she stepped out the cubicle. This let me watch her towel herself off, put on a transparent red bra and a matching lacy thong, and re-apply her lipstick. She then cheekily held up the same black and white tiger stripe stilettos she’d caught me checking out earlier, and then strapped them to her feet.
Looking as radiant as ever she came over with the keys and unlocked my wrists. I stepped out the cubicle and she handed me a towel from a rail.
“We rinsed the slime off your cloths” she said. “They won’t be dry to this mourning though. We can always snuggle up under the blankets together to keep warm if we need to.”
“Won’t someone say something?” I asked. “If we’re walking around semi nude.”
“Kelly and Lilly have gone to Club Revenge together” she said.
“That’s the other two girls, Jaguar and Panther, right” I said as I draped the towel over my shoulders.
“That’s right” she said. “We’ve got the place to ourselves for a few hours. How about I show you the living area out back.”
“Sounds good” I agreed.

Chapter 5:

It was the next morning, and I was lying in a semi awake state in the Wild Cat’s camper van. It would be inaccurate to call it a bed, it was actually a number of mats and blankets on the floor, but the lack of luxury was the last thing on my mind.
You know sometimes when your in the trees you really can’t see the woods. It had never occurred to me before, but my ex-girlfriend Sara had never been a particularly thoughtful lover, happy to just lie back at let me do all the work. Having spent the night with the enthusiastic and eager to please Hayley had been a true revelation of what I‘d been missing. We’d stayed up late together and I was still in a sleepy haze, even as daylight threatened to pierce it’s way through the curtains.
I let out a little smile as for the first time in over a year I was waking up with another warm body. Still not fully awake I rolled over to be close and place an affectionate arm around her.
“Now I don’t mind, but I don’t think I’m who you think I am.”
Hearing that shocked me into waking up almost instantly as I rolled away. As I did the person I was with came out from under the blankets. I recognised her as the fair skinned, black haired wild cat from last night, wearing a pink chemise. She regarded me lying on her belly, resting her head in her hands.
“You must be Mathew” she said.
“Err Lilly I presume” I stammered.
“You know” she said. “I’m surprised you found any time for small talk.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked. All things considered that was a good question.
“Me, I always sleep here.” she said. “There’s nowhere else for us Wild Cats to go.”
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“They’ve gone out to get some lunch” she said. “They’ll be back soon.”
Well I now knew why I woke up with a different woman to the one I went to bed with. Seeing the sleeping arrangements did remind me of another question I had.
“Do you 3 always sleep together?” I asked.
“Are you thinking what I think I am?” she said, looking rather perturbed.
“Well” I said.
“Honestly” she cried. “Would you think that if 3 guys had to shack up like this?”
“It’s just Hayley said you and Kelly went to a gay bar together last night” I said. “So I just assumed.”
“Oh right” she said, relaxing a little. “Normally we get to know people a bit better before revealing anything. I’m surprised Hayley said something.”
“Well she didn’t say specifically” I explained, “but she mentioned the name of the club. It’s one I’ve heard of obviously.”
“Ah right. I’ll tell her to be a bit more careful in future” she said. “As I’m sure your wondering me and Kelly are a couple. Hayley’s strait and single. At least she was yesterday mourning, Captain.”
She gave me a playful punch on the shoulder.
“Really” I said. Last night had been such a whirlwind I’d not really thought much further ahead.
“Well we don’t normally invite members of the audience up to join us for the blood bath” she said.
I nodded, smiling at the memory.
“Did she say much about me?” I asked.
“Well I know she saw something in you she likes” she said. “I also know to make sure to get you to clean the shower properly before I use it.”
She smiled with amusement as I profusely blushed. Normally I don’t share details about what I do in the bedroom with anyone I‘m not sleeping with. During the pause in conversation she took the chance to grab her phone, I rolled over to check my own. I had a few random texts, and a few from my mum who was still worried, even though I had messaged her to let her know I was staying out for the night.
“You ready to get up, and hopefully get this place presentable for when Hayley and Kelly bring us some lunch” she said.
“Sure” I replied. “I better just text my mum first and reassure her I’m not dead.”
“Don’t take too long” she said. “You wouldn’t want Hayley to find you in bed with another woman.”

Note:  Been a while.  This is just something small, inspired by TG’s excellent new offering.  Hoping to parlay this renewed enthusiasm into finishing up some cliffs long left hanging, but… well time makes fools of us all.  Enjoy.

…
Katy was wide awake, but kept her eyes closed tight.   She looked asleep, but was actually acutely aware of everything else going on in the room.   Sure, she had been sleeping mere minutes ago, but she would have had to have been Rip Van Winkle’s direct descendant not to wake when her roommates came clattering home.  Katy had heard them enter, loudly, through the back door, clomp across the kitchen, and enter the living room.  Now, listening silently, she could tell from their soft whispers and hushed giggles that they were up to something.

It wasn’t too hard to figure out what they were up to either.  Since moving in together, pranks had been a regular occurrence; there were at least two rubber spiders still hidden somewhere upstairs, and every hair-dryer in the house occasionally coughed up a weak puff of flour.    Obviously, appearing to be deep asleep, Katy made an appealing target.  The pretty third-year physical therapy major was sprawled out on her back, lengthwise across the well-worn beige couch, one trim denim-hugged leg draped across the far end and the other dangling off the cushions.  Her hands rested atop her taut midriff, displayed by a wispy maroon blouse, and her dense chocolate-brown curls spread over a ratty throw-pillow, framing an angelic face.   Steeling herself mentally, Katy continued to feign slumber.  Whatever practical joke they were cooking up, she was going to catch them in the act.

“Shh!” hissed one of the voices, after an indiscreetly loud chuckle.  “It’s upstairs.  Go get it.”

The conspiratorial whisper belonged to Rachel, the blonde, bespectacled, would-be-kindergarten-teacher who had the room down the hall.   Sweet as anything, she nursed a secret dark side, one which relished an occasional bit of prank-based mayhem.

Which meant that the footsteps trying to creep quietly up the creaky stairs belonged to Heather, the third and final roommate.   Short and also a brunette, Heather was a history major and the resident cynic of their little group.   She also had the least patience for pranks out of them all, so this was almost certainly Rachel’s brain-child.  Nevertheless, Heather was always happy, or ambivalent, enough to join in on an easy prank.

Katy made mental note of Heather’s eager collusion as she heard the girl in question tip-toe back down the stairs, evidently having found what she was sent to retrieve.

“Perrrfect.” Rachel purred softly.

“I know, right?  I got it at the museum where I interned.  Never thought I’d have a use for it.” Heather whispered in reply.

Her nervous curiosity already piqued, it was further inflamed as Katy felt a set of delicate fingers very carefully rotate her own left hand, so that it lay on her stomach with the palm facing up.  All the while she played her best possum.  With a slight hissing sound, everything became as clear as if she could see it with open eyes.

Suddenly, she felt something light and soft growing on her palm.  It was shaving cream.  And not a women’s variety, but the thick, creamy white foam that comes in big red and black cans.  Katy knew for a fact that Rachel kept one or two such cans in the upstairs bathroom; she claimed she occasionally used it shaving her legs, but it was obviously purely for pranks.   Pranks like this, a regular classic.  Which meant Katy also knew the identity of mystery item #2, even before feeling its touch.  I was no doubt the big brown replica quill-pen that Heather usually left gathering dust on her desk.  Suddenly, a scheme of her own wiggled into Katy’s mind.

Her plan, thus far, had been to wait until both girls were gathered close, then jump up and yell boo, or something.  But now that she knew exactly what they were plotting, a new plan fell into place…  Instead of settling for startling her mischievous roommates, Katy would give them a shock and, with any luck, turn the tables on Rachel.  All she had to do was keep up her charade, wait till she had a big handful of cream, and let Rachel’s prank-happy excitement draw her in close.   Then whap, blondie gets a face full, and a taste of her own medicine.

Katy’s internal conniving was making her mind wander, so much so that she wasn’t ready when the big fake feather first grazed her nose.  The tickle was intense, and she legitimately had to halt the impulse to brush at the offending sensation.

The feather came again, this time glancing off her cheek.  Again, her hand didn’t move, but instead, for show, Katy nestled her head deeper into the lumpy pillow. She heard a small frustrated noise, she suspected from Heather.

For the third pass, the feather returned to her nose.  Now fully playing games with her prospective-pranksters, Katy let her left hand drift heavily, drowsily toward her face.  Mere inches away, she took a slumbering swat at the source of the tickle and, much to her roommates’ dismay, left just a cute little button of shaving cream on the tip of her own nose.  As her hand flopped dreamily back to her waist, Katy heard an exasperated sigh and the sound of feet leaving the living room.

But she also heard the muted squeak of knees on a rug placed over an old wooden floor.  Rachel wasn’t giving up, and she’d drawn closer.  The hiss returned, and now she felt the mound of dense foam in her hand more than double, edging onto her wrist and pushing between her fingers.  It was almost her time to strike.

Another sweep of the feather.  It flitted back and forth across her sculpted eyebrows and danced just inside her ear.  Now Katy could smell Rachel’s perfume, a subtle lilac scent.  She was very close.

Footsteps again, approaching as the feather returned, sending a tickle flickering over her Cupid’s bow. A bead of sweat formed at the base of her neck.  She could swear she felt Rachel’s warm breath on her cheek.  Now.  Now was the perfect moment to…

“This is taking waaay too long.” Heather said, at full volume, from directly above the couch.

Before Katy could even open her eyes, an enormous amount of shaving cream engulfed her entire face.

Heather had used a dishtowel, or some other piece of fabric, as an improvised pie tin, rubbing the payload in through the cloth.  Her impatient roommate peeled away the towel and Katy blew foam into the air before taking a gasping breath.  Without thinking, her hands finally flew to her face, inadvertently adding Rachel’s mound to the mountain covering her head. With a groan, Katy smeared it out of her eyes and back into her cream-choked curls.

“Well…” Rachel mused, “I guess that’s one way of doing it.”

Katy flailed her foamy hands at the spot where her roommate had been kneeling, but of course Rachel had moved.

Sitting up and spitting shaving cream, Katy sulked on the couch.  She scraped her palms over her mouth and slicked back her hair, feeling it settling into a cream coated helmet, only able to imagine what a mess she looked like.  Regardless, it meant an unplanned shower before her evening class.

Katy couldn’t hear whether her puckish roommates had left the living room, or were taking abundant cellphone pictures of her creamy predicament, because there was shaving foam in her ears.  Although she was wide awake, she kept her eyes closed tight, wishing she’d just stayed asleep.

Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. 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.

—

OK, bit of a random story here!

The idea for this just suddenly came from writing the latest ‘NGYOB’. The way I had just messed up a character in the first game and it just got me wanting to stick on a similar wavelength. Of course I couldn’t do that in ‘NGYOB’ so I threw this little story out quickly with two of my favourite celebrity stars from across the pond.

Second of all, this is inspired also by various scenes and stories depicting bakeries, the main one for me being 102 Dalmatians. Expect similar tropes here, but in honesty, I’m excited to see where this goes…

Hope you enjoy, as this is on a whim!

—

*Just for people who don’t know them…

Zooey Deschanel

Bryce Dallas Howard

Bryce Dallas Howard stopped, not being able to bear the aching any longer. She reached down and took off the white high heels she had been wearing. Grasping them in one hand, she lifted up her right leg and give the sole of her foot a quick rub, and a glob of white fell onto her toe. Trying to keep balanced, she she put it straight back down on the mat and held her arms out for a moment steadying herself.

So much for all that damn training when on set.

She pushed open the door and looked around.

“ZOOEY! Where are you, you evil little cow…”

—

20 minutes earlier

Bryce took a sip from her glass and smiled, laughing along with her to friends. She had just gotten back from touring international for the release of her latest film, Jurassic World, which had been smashing box office records across the world. Because of this, her fame had shot up over the past few weeks. She had been invited out to dinner with two friends she had known for a long time, Cathy and Tim, and they were currently discussing the film in front of her.

“…I mean even with everyone complaining about the heels, you still did it, no special effects or whatever so people don’t need to question it. But no yeah, loved it Bryce. Well done, and well done on all of the awards.”

“Thanks Tim.”

Bryce, before the release had been a kind and modest person. She still was at times, but recently the success of the film had given her the reputation in Hollywood and beyond that of someone with a big head. She was currently talking in interviews a lot about awards, new opportunities with umpteen directors, and recently she had been doing herself up to look stunning for even simple jogs in the parks. With Cathy and Tim tonight, it was no different, only they were such good friends to barely notice.

“Alan – you know Alan my agent – he’s said that there’s about 9 or so awards that my name is secretly down for.”

She took a sip from her glass.

“9 of them?”

“Mhm – er, 10 – more than likely. One of the maybe a famous gold statue, hahaha!”

She took another mouthful of her drink as her friends looked at her questioningly.

“Er…there’s a few different gold ones -“

“Oh for gods sake Tim I’m talking about an Academy Award. Best female? Probably a few others. A few networks too have been talking to me, I could be the next break out TV star. Probably will be actually. Even Netflix has been looking into work with me.”

Cathy raised her eyebrows.

“Wow, that’s pretty sweet.”

“Well, when you’re a big star, like you know starring in the film that has the biggest opening weekend on record then…well, you get these kinds of rumours popping up all the time, hehe.”

Bryce laughed and went to take another sip of her drink when she paused the glass on her lips. In the distance, wearing a black polka dotted dress, black tights and flat shoes, hair down straight and flowing behind her, was Zooey Deschanel. Zooey was another big star in the world of film and television at the moment, and one that was on a show once with Bryce. The two women got along well, but Bryce at the time had always felt like she was second to Zooey. People told her this wasn’t true and that Zooey was a really nice person, but Bryce at this moment couldn’t help but think one thing; I’m winning. Bryce kept her eyes fixed on Zooey, glowering as she downed the rest of her drink and stood up.

“I’ll be back in a few moments, oh! Tim, tell Cathy of the part when I shot one of the Pterendons, that’s like the scene in the movie where my character develops most. All the tabloids are on about it at the moment!”

She picked up her bag from the table and briskly walked toward the bathroom that Zooey had disappeared into, consciously touching her hair to make sure it was perfect when she walked in. She was faced with a mirror which showed her full reflection. She was wearing a white, the front of which showed off her slender legs. The back of it draped down behind her legs to her knees. Her chest was visible as the dress hugged her, and she had a slight cleavage, not a ridiculous amount, but a noticeable one. Her red hair was neatly done up and tied behind, a little of it hanging by the sides of her face. She was all ready as though she was about to go to a premiere of sorts. Out in front of her stepped Zooey, from of the sinks in a cubicle.

“Oh, hi uh…Bryce! Didn’t know you were here.”

Bryce gave her an icy cold look, and she just looked from side to side.

“Is…something wrong?”

“No. Well, possibly. I mean first of all you just forgot my name.”

“I didn’t forget it, it just took a second to -“

“REMEMBER IT?”

Zooey just stared at Bryce wide eyed.

“Er…OK. I’m going to go, I have someone waiting for me outside so…yeah. It was…fine?…seeing you here -“

Bryce looked down and smiled.

“Oh are you too good to be talking to me.”

“What? I -“

Bryce nearly stamped her foot.

“FOUR YEARS AGO. On the today show. You thought you were so incredible, new show, new image -“

“What new image..”

“Everyone raving about you, well. Now everyone is raving about ME.”

Zooey just continued to look at her, wild eyed and not knowing what to say, after a moment she walked past Bryce who stood there, shocked.

“I’m talking to you, Zoo-Zoo -“

“WHAT did you just call me?”

Zooey turned around, gobsmacked. It wasn’t offensive but just, weird.

“I think you’re drunk -“

“I think you are a jealous little -“

“Woah, OK. No need to go that far. Look Bryce I don’t know if someones upset you -“

“You have upset me.”

Zooey turned around.

“So I’ll leave then.”

Bryce stared after her for a moment and then followed her through the door, following her to a nearby table and nudged her forcibly into it. Zooey steadied herself by throwing her arm out, and right into a piece of fudge cake on the table.

“What the hell!?”

“You should show me some respect -“

Zooey held her hands up, one of them dripping with cake and chocolate sauce.

“OK, ok. Look listen Bryce just er, just meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes ok? I’ll tell  you like…why I’m a little disrespectful tonight. Just, it’s…kind of personal stuff.”

“Why can’t we talk -“

“Out here? With reporters listening to try and get a scoop. They’re everywhere.”

Bryce was about to answer but then thought for a moment, picturing an image of her socking Zooey in the face on the front pages. Although funny in her mind, it could ruin her future projects.

“Fine. A few, short, minutes.”

Bryce pointed at Zooey and walked away to her table.

–

“It’s a shame though Bryce.”

“Oh I know, but Alan said it couldn’t wait.”

Cathy sighed.

“Are you ok getting to him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you look like you’ve had a few.”

“I am perfectly ok Cath, thanks.”

“Cathy but…OK, we’ll see you soon!”

Tim and Cathy both embraced her and left. Bryce looked over to the kitchen, Zooey must have spoken to the chef and got them privacy. Bryce strutted toward it, her blue dress flowing behind her and hair bobbing up and down, clutching her bag. She didn’t know or care what Zooey had to say, but she would put her in her place. She had had plenty of tips about awards, projects photo ops. She was bigger and better and she wasn’t drunk, she simply knew she deserved respect. A waitress walked out in front of her holding a plate.

“Excuse me, I’m coming through.”

The young girl, of about 19 or something jumped and backed out of the way.

“Oh uh, sorry Miss -“

“Howard, and whatever, look where you’re going.”

Bryce kept walking and whacked both of the doors open, letting them close behind her.

“Alright I’m here, this better be quick as I’m a busy – MMPPFFHHHH!”

Her world went dark, and suddenly cold. Zooey walked out from behind the counter laughing. Bryce Dallas Howard stood, arms at her sides, clutching her bag with a large plate sticking to her face. It fell away and the pie crust underneath began to slowly break, revealing a bit of yellow and white. A classic old custard pie. It broke in bits, and a huge glob of cream fell in between the stars cleavage.

“That’s the kind of respect you deserve right now Bryce haha.”

Bryce gasped finally, a hole appearing in the cream where her mouth was. She dropped her bag and clawed away the fluffy whiteness from her eyes.

“WHAT THE HELL.”

“It’s a pie.”

Bryce stared daggers at Zooey, who turned around.

“YOU BI – IIIMMMMPPHHHHHH!”

Bryce only saw dark brown before the blackness, feeling a very sticky chocolate brownie cake make contact with her already white and yellow features. Zooey laughed and rubbed the pie tin a little more in, and stepped to her side, turning Bryce, who complied on the spot.

“Bottoms….down?”

Zooey pushed hard one more time before she released her hand from the tin and Bryce stumbled on her heels backward onto the counter, with a soft, squidgy ‘puft’. Bryce was in a weird position; she could feel the pudding on her face, which was slowly breaking away in bits, and she could also feel a very soft and squidgy substance plastering and sticking to her dress. She gasped again and realised; Zooey had plonked her right down into another cake.

“AGHHHHHH.”

Her frustrated shout caused Zooey to jump and run, whilst Bryce hopped off of the counter, clawing at her eyes once more and shrieking in loud angry bouts.

“IM GOING TO MURDER YOU. YOU JEALOUS BITCH. MY DRESS, OH MY – AGHHHH!”

Bryce yelled in anger again and looked around. Zooey was gone, but the door to the far end was flapping.

“Oh you just try and hide.”

–

Zooey looked around her. She had come in for a place to hide but couldn’t believe what she found; it was some sort of huge factory or bakery. There was all sorts, a conveyor belt of pies and cakes being pumped out, a machine that must have been making some sort of spaghetti, and other weird contraptions too. Toward the back, there was a cat walk hanging over a large vat of chocolate, which was part of some sort of the largest machine that seemed to make –

“The L.A cake stand. Oh wow.”

The cake stand was a part of an annual fair on the outskirts of L.A. It was a baking fair, and each year a special giant cake was made to put on show in front of the fair. This must have been where it was made. Zooey heard a bang behind her; Bryce had decided to follow. She looked around for somewhere to hide, but couldn’t see anything.

I’ll have to keep running I suppose. Maybe though I can use her chasing me to my advantage…

Picking up a large sticky toffee cake, She looked to her right, a panel of sorts with some buttons. She ran to it, not even knowing what it was for.

“ZOOEY! Where are you, you evil little cow…”

Bryce had just flung open the doors and looked around. She spotted Zooey near a conveyor belt grinning like mad.

“There you are.”

“Oh hiya Bryce!”

Standing tall and regaining her posture she walked over to Zooey, trying to look as important as she could, although with her face covered in chocolate and cream, and the back of her dress also dripping with chocolate, it was hard for Zooey not to laugh.

“What is so fun -“

“You’re covered in cake and all Bryce and your face looks ruined.”

The red head opened her mouth as though she had been slapped.

“HOW DARE YOU.”

“Well it’s true.”

“AS TRUE AS IT MAY BE…Well, it’s not ruined.”

Zooey shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe you’re right. It’s never looked good anyway.”

“RIGHT.”

Bryce lunged forward and Zooey continued to smile, she took one small step to her right and Bryce flew past her. The now screaming hollywood star tripped at the start of the conveyor belt. Her eyes wide, she saw a large and particularly sticky looking brown cake, and a second late her face fell right into it, cream and toffee spurting out all over the belt, her chocolatey behind pointing into the air. As she slowly lowered it, while slowly pulling up her plastered face, Zooey pressed a random button on the panel and grinned like mad.

As easy as – 

Suddenly Zooey found herself being catapulted through the air, landing in front of Bryce.

“OW. Pie.”

“You said so -“

Bryce picked up a white fluffy pie and planted it on Zooey’s head, pressing it down. Little droplets of cream fell down the sides of her hair and one in particular plopped onto her nose, the white contrasting brilliantly with Zooey’s dark hair.

“What the hell.”

“Why did you think pressing some button on a machine you didn’t know how to work would do anything to me?”

“I – I don’t know.”

The conveyor belt began to move and suddenly both women laughed at each other, until Bryce stopped.

“This doesn’t mean we’ve made up.”

Zooey had also stopped looking at her new enemy with dislike.

“Obviously.”

All of a sudden both of them scrambled, Bryce getting up to kneel with a growl. Zooey meanwhile sat up, but felt a hand on her chest, pushing her back down. She fell flat on her back and with a moment, Bryce pounced sitting atop Zooey on the belt.

“I have a ‘ruined’ face huh? THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE. Time to cake I think.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense either you idi – MMPPHH.”

Zooey Deschanel was muffled out as Bryce pushed another white pie down into her face, pressing firmly, enjoying hearing Zooey’s whimper from under the tin. She pulled it away and smiled and looked up as she threw the pie away.

“I think I might be winning.”

Her smile vanished, and eyes widened with sudden horror, as she was looking right up into the barrel of a nozzle.

“Oh shit.”

With a splurging sound, it threw a cascade of icing down onto her, the thick mixture completely coating her sleek red locks. It dripped all down her shoulders and into her cleavage, seeping into her dress and down her arms. She kneeled there, as the white icing turned her into what looked like a statue. After a moment it stopped and Zooey laughed out loud maniacally. From her view, still underneath Bryce, it was amazing to watch. Seeing a below view of the thick cake topping engulf her rival, and drip downward. Best of all, Bryce was well and truly mortified. Bryce’s icy bob of a head lowered so it was looking right in front of her, and she slowly spat out a bit of icing.

“Still winning I think.”

“What is you’re obsession with winning?”

Bryce wiped her eyes and looked down at Zooey.

“Beating you.”

“At what?”

Bryce smiled and held her arms up as the conveyor belt continued.

“I guess baking.”

Zooey looked at her in confusion for a second, expecting something else, then pushed upward, causing Bryce to scream and fall backward landing with a squelch in icing and some remains of cakes and pies from a few moments earlier. As Bryce opened her eyes she saw the nozzle once ,ore directly above her, and knowing what was about to happen, she scrunched her face up. Zooey crawled in the direction the conveyor belt was headed and looked around, watching a deluge of white falling, a pair of legs kicking from under it.

There’s a maze of god knows how many machines here, what the hell?

She blinked through the cream on her face and kept crawling and after a few moments, turned around again, to be met face to face with a devious looking Bryce, who quickly pulled back at the top of Zooey’s ruined polka dotted dress. Smiling, she let a big mound of her icing fall down off her hand and right onto the actresses chest, spying what was behind her.

“Au revoir.”

She pressed firmly on Zooey’s dress and the icing inside squelched and spread all across her chest and in her bra, and then pushed hard at the wide eyed Zooey who suddenly went falling backward. Bryce turned and reached for a button at the side which stopped the belt. She looked back in time to see a screaming Zooey land with a thick spludge on her back into the vat of custard that was below. The New Girl star hung on the surface for a fraction of a moment, before submerging into the yellow mire quickly. It barely moved from the impact, and after a few moments all that was left was a pair of black tights slowly sucking under. Bryce sighed and stood up.

“Finally.”

She turned around and began to walk back the length of the belt when she heard a sloshing sound and some welping. Behind her, Zooey had surfaced, a yellow looking ghost of sorts. She was wiping her face clean and slicked her hair back. Bryce couldn’t resist, she slowly strutted back toward the vat.

“Oh Zooey, love your new look.”

In the vat Zooey just watched her and sighed as Bryce continued holding her hand up and laughing.

“Honestly, I’m green with envy…of you looking yellow.”

“Oh, haha.“

Bryce closed her mouth and smiled almost with sympathy.

“Hmm. I guess we know who is better.”

“Where has this pathetic thing about winning come from? I mean seriously?”

Bryce wondered for a moment.

“I guess it’s just a bit of fun. Us famous people are allowed to have such fun, you may not know much about it though.”

Zooey watched her and flicked her eyes for a second to the side. Bryce was either really drunk or crazy insane. Probably both, and to be fair, Zooey felt a bit insane too. She flicked her eyes once more to the side. She knew what she was going to do.

Yeah, both totally insane and I love it.

“Yeah you’re right Bryce. You’re, much, much, better than me. I hold up my hands, my custard covered ones to you.”

Bryce smiled. Seeing Zooey covered and waist deep in custard was pleasing, and arms up in defeat even more so. Zooey waded to the conveyor belt edge.

“Allow me to kiss those feet, the ones that everyones been on about to do with them heels in Jurassic Park -“

“World.”

“Whatever – allow me.”

Bryce glowered then sat down on the edge and sighed, crossing her legs over each other.

“OK, I’ll humour you. In fact they’re sore you could rub them too please.”

Zooey came forward to the dangling toes, nails painted a dark red, soft looking yet slightly worn. Without a moments hesitation, she grabbed them and yanked. Bryce screamed, falling from her sitting position, to her back.

“WHAT THE – OH NO, NO NO NO! ZOOOEEEEEEY!”

Bryce sat up again, just in time to see Zooey yank once more. As though being dunked at a fair, Bryce fell forward screaming and landed face first with a soft thud in the vat of custard with Zooey,  her front engulfed in the slop and her legs below her knees sticking up comically. They fell down a second later and with a blub, she disappeared under the surface. Zooey grabbed the sides of the belt and heaved up, dripping yellow all over it.

“Yeahhhh. Definitely drunk.”

She hung her yellow soaked legs, the tights taking in a tiny bit of the custard, over the vat and a bubbling patch, she quickly dipped her foot in and pulled it out. Bryce popped up spluttering, looking like Zooey; covered in thick yellow custard. Zooey looked to her side and off the conveyor belt. A pie had seemed to have fallen off at some point in the past few days. It was a white cream pie but looked slightly yellow and a slight whiff coming from it. Below, Bryce wiped her face clean and looked up when her rival spoke.

“Hey ginge. Up here.”

“I’M NOT GING – UMPH!”

The pie dropped down right onto her face and Zooey smiled. Another good view of Bryce, wearing a an off and smelly pie on her already tortured face. The red head looked down slowly and the crust and bits of the yellow cream fell off and into the custard.

“Euuurghh, what the hell was in that.”

“What was that about winning Bryce honey?”

“God…that pie smells…old.”

Zooey cringed as she looked at Bryce.

“Yeahhhh, doesn’t smell nice does it?”

“Uck.”

Zooey took off one of her shoes and dipped her foot into the custard.

“Know what else probably doesn’t smell nice?”

Bryce didn’t turn her head, but watched with her eyes as Zooey’s foot dipped right in front of her and then hung just above, toes wriggling and custard from it pattering down onto her face. Her cheeks suddenly caught fire and she imagined a photo in her head, one where she was LOSING. Zooey sighed and looked up, closing her eyes, exhausted as she pushed her foot into motion, pressing her foot down onto Bryce, who simply looked at it falling toward her with horror.

“Man I need a drink.”

Below her, Bryce’s expression was of disgust, her mouth open in a downward gawp of embarassment. It felt cold, sticky, wet and a tiny bit silk like from the tights. Bryce cringed; Zooey was right about it probably not smelling nice. She was utterly humiliated. Considering she was currently one of the biggest names in film at the moment, here she was; covered in various puddings, slathered in icing and coated in custard, and finally face up, with Zooey Deschanel’s foot planted in her face. Zooey rubbed it around a little, side to side, forward and back, Bryce’s expression still frozen as her head bobbed to Zooey’s control. With fresh custard all over Bryce’s face and with one final, muffled moan from the redhead, Zooey pushed the redhead down. Bryce slid her face down from Zooey’s foot, mouth open in shock and sank under the custard once more, the surface bubbling where she had been. Zooey stretched, lifting her foot out and rolled off the conveyor belt, hitting a button on the panel. The vat lifted up and poured, a steady stream of yellow pouring into the chocolatey vat next to it. A large yellow covered blob, gasping for air and squealing fell also and landed with a thick splash in the chocolate and custard mix as it began to slowly swirl.

“Now for my prize.”

—

Sarah walked up to her manager, sighing. What a bitch.

“Order for table 34. Two key lime pies for dessert and a bottle of the house wine.”

She turned but heard a clicking of fingers behind her. She walked back to Jean.

“Yeah..”

Even though he was stern faced, he spoke with a kind voice.

“You look like you ‘ave been crying. Now as manager I tell you that’s unprofessional and not good service, and as friend I ask, what is ze matter?”

“Just a rude guest earlier. I’ve had a lot of guests been rude tonight but this one really takes the cake, she -“

There was a loud bang and both her and Jean looked round. A large trolley came rolling out, atop it a large multiple tiered cake, and not a neat one. It was bulgy, and messily standing, bits of it falling off as it was pushed out. It even looked like it was about to fall at any second as it was leaning dangerously. It was pink, and all manner of decorated colours. There was criss crosses of yellow and white, tonnes of messily placed bows, mounds of whipped cream all over the place and the red form of decoration at the top, with a few candles lit looked strange. It looked almost like –

“Is zat hair?”

From behind the large disaster of a pud walked Zooey. It had been about an hour or so, and so she had quickly tried to tidy up a bit. Her tights where gone, her dress more or less mess free but looking damp and a little powdered with flour, and her hair was in a tight pony tail behind her, also damp. She had removed pretty much her whole makeup.

“I made the cake stand early! SURPRISE!!!”

There were mumbles of chatter as she stood there, arms held up to it and grinning like a mad woman. One person at the back of the room clapped twice and then realised this wasn’t a joke of any kind, his wife slapping the back of his head. Jean and Sarah walked up to the cake.

“Mizz Deschanel I…well…I mean…”

“Er, chocolate custard filling with what I think will be a *winning* look this year on the outside. Oh yeah and er, hair. Sorry about that.”

All of a sudden with a groan, which collapsed into a frustrated growl, the top of the cake wriggled and broke away, bits of cream and decorating bouncing down and off the cake. Bryce Dallas Howard was encased in the cake, her hair was ruined; bits of dried cream and cake and chocolate and custard, all sorts, had made her hair ragged, hard and standing in parts on end. It was on these sticking up parts that small flames glowed. Her face was red, half from humiliation and half from being boiling warm, and the lines of her once perfect makeup showing. Bits of dried cream and chocolate clung to her features, one bit of dried icing right on the tip of her nose. Adding to the embarrassment and her discomfort, she could still smell the rotten pie that Zooey had dropped on her earlier, bits of it probably in her hair still. Up to her neck in the cake, all she could do was watch Zooey, the manager and that annoying waitress from earlier on who had gotten in her way.

“Mmmm.”

Jean simply stared and shook his head, and spoke as Sarah went from smiling to frowning as she reached over to pull what looked like a sleeve out of the cake.

“Maybe you should get going Mizz Deschanel.”

“No worries, I’ve had a great time. Five stars Mister Caluccio, will be back again. Ta, ta!”

She blew a kiss to Bryce, a final goodbye to her defeated enemy and walked away as Jean scratched his head and Sarah held th mess covered tights Zooey had thrown into the mixing process at some point. In the cake, Bryce went nearly as red as her mess coated hair, the cake trembling a little as Zooey walked away, leaving her to the mercy of the jittering crowd which was beginning to laugh at the whole debacle.

“ZOOEY! YOU INSOLENT COW. YOU EVIL LITTLE SHIT. YOU CAN’T JUST DO THIS AND WALK AWAY. WHO DO YOU THINK I AM? YOU’RE NOTHING, NOTHING BUT A PRETTY FACE WHO HAS NO TALENT. YOU COME BACK HERE -“

Sarah acted quickly rolling up the tights into a ball and grabbing a nearby large lemon tart, which she thought was fitting, and reached up.

“YOU – You stupid little girl what do you want? Get the hell away from me you  – wha – NO! MMFFF.”

Sarah pushed the lemon tart into the stars manic face and rubbed it around, with audible squelching. The tin stuck there for a few moments, and then slowly slid downward, lemon slime covering Bryce’s face, droblets dripping down her face. Sarah pulled the tin off and slapped the remnants on top of the her heard, more bits of yellow gloop dripping down her face and onto her cake casing. Through her yellow glazed face, her mouth was open in disbelief of who had just added to her misery. She stayed like that, eyes closed as Sarah stuffed the tights into her gawping mouth, whilst pulling away one of the legs and letting it droop down over the cake. The room erupted into cheer, and from the doorway Zooey took a snap on her phone.

“Yeah, definitely insane. Both of us.”

—

Yeah, I have no idea either. Totally random and crazy, and quickly thrown out within a couple of hours. I may write more of these if I ever get a similar and sudden idea pop into my head; random silly situations which I made up as I went along. Very silly at times when I read back, but I like it and I hope you do too. That’s fiction for you after all, and I enjoyed writing it!

And very quickly, as I mentioned at the start, yes ‘NGYOB’ is returning very soon. It will be with two brand new nominations that YOU THE READERS have sent in. Dave’s not disposed of any of your letters, do not worry.

Be on the lookout for it over the next couple of weeks.

MsM

Nicole Scherzinger had been the face of Muller Yoghurts in Britain for a few years and in that time had produced numerous adverts to the point of irritating many. For regular TV viewers, it had become nearly impossible to not catch one of these adverts on a daily basis. The adverts would always end the same way, with Nicole somehow ending up with some of the yoghurt on the tip of her nose following a farcical accident that caused her to drop the yoghurt. What had became confusing is how it was only her nose that managed to get covered in the yoghurt. The combined ridiculousness and frequency of the adverts made Nicole an irritating figure to many people in Britain. It was because of this that Nicole found herself in her current predicament, appearing on some short-lived Saturday night prime-time television show in a skit involving Muller yoghurts.

The producers of the show wanted to capitalise on Nicole’s new found infamy and hence created a skit that involved of retribution for the British public. Nicole was invited onto the show to promote a new single that was shortly coming out, and the producers of the show hoped to capitalise on this opportunity with their yoghurt stunt. Upon arriving to the studios on the afternoon of her appearance on the show, Nicole was informed of exactly what was planned for her. Needless to say, she refused at first, feeling the stunt would harm her publicity. It was only following a chat with producers and the realisation of her true perception by the British public that Nicole reluctantly accepted, hoping this publicity would raise her public profile right in time for the release of her new single.

A few hours went by and it was time for the show to begin, as per usual the first part of the show involved the male host talking about current affairs and entertaining the audience. Nicole nervously waited backstage, waiting for her interview and following that, the planned publicity stunt. She had been instructed by production staff to act like she did not know what was going to happen. In reality, she knew very little about what was going to happen, all that she knew was that a spare change of clothes and a pile of towels was waiting for her backstage. That was not a good omen.

When it was time for Nicole’s appearance, she was introduced by the energetic host to a mixed reaction of applause, cheers and and a few boos. She strutted onto the set and over to the red sofas where the interview was taking place. Nicole was wearing a white shoulderless top that revealed her neck and shoulders as well as her toned, tanned stomach. The top half of her legs were covered by a pair of figure hugging multi-coloured leggings that accentuated her rear and revealed the bottom half of her gorgeous olive coloured legs. On her feet were a pair of black heels. Her long, flowing dark brown hair was curled and swept to one side with dark blonde highlights. It draped over her bare shoulder and reached halfway down her body. She looked nervous as she embraced the host before sitting down for the interview.

Nicole answered questions about her career and new single, which she promoted. At the back of her mind was the stunt that was still to come, and Nicole had to try and hold the nerves back. The conversation soon settled on the Muller adverts and the host was quick to point out how the public felt about the annoying adverts. Nicole was shocked to hear this as it was the first time she had been made aware of the situation. She always thought the adverts were fun and contained a hint of sexiness to keep the audience interested. Perhaps this was right a couple of years ago, but the frequent use of these adverts had led to a change in attitudes towards the yoghurts. The audience laughed as the host mocked the adverts before asking about the ending of the adverts. He asked Nicole why it was only her nose that was covered. She replied nervously that she thought it was cute, knowing in her head that this was probably leading into the imminent skit involving the yoghurts. Suddenly, the host got up from his seat and guided the audience’s attention to the other side of the set. A large curtain that Nicole had previously not taken any notice of was removed, revealing to the audience and Nicole at the same time what the future held for her.

“If you’d like to follow me please Nicole, we’re going to create our own Muller advert” said the host, leading Nicole by the hand over to the other side of the stage. A large perspex booth had been set up with a plastic stool inside. Above the booth was a large tank containing on close inspection what appeared to be sloppy white gunge, a substitute for yoghurt. This was unmistakably a gunge tank, and its intended occupant was only one person, Nicole.

Upon the sudden realisation of what was about to happen, Nicole’s heart began to beat faster. She had been expecting something, hence the spare clothes and towels, but this was beyond all expectations. The crowd were going wild, cheering and applauding loudly as the host explained what was going to happen.

“Now, for a few years Nicole, you have been acting in these yoghurt adverts,” explained the host. “And you might not know this, but the public have been beginning to grow tired of these same adverts repeating daily.”

This was greeted with another cheer from the audience. Nicole nervously giggled, adjusting her hair.

“In these adverts Nicole, you always seem to be so clumsy, ending up with yoghurt on your face.” The host was now beginning to smile. Nicole knew where he was heading. “Us guys here at the show thought that we would recreate this, but give the people what they want to see”

This was followed by another loud cheer and Nicole tensed her shoulders, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. This was happening, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She tried reassuring herself by thinking of the positive publicity that would come from this on the eve of her new single’s release.

“Nicole, this advert we’re creating here involves you stumbling across a large tank of yoghurt and getting trapped underneath it, so if you will follow me please. Best acting face now,” The host took Nicole by the hand and led her over to the tank. He opened the door and ushered Nicole inside, urging her to act like she was in an advert. Nervously, Nicole feigned curiosity as she stepped inside the booth. She looked around before looking up. Greeting her was the the sight of a vast amount of gunge poised above her head, only held back by the closed nozzle of the tank, ready to release the deluge of slop down over her in just a matter of moments. The pure thought of that made Nicole shiver. That thought was about to become reality as the host was gearing up the audience in anticipation of their revenge for all the adverts.

Nicole tried to stay in character for the show, looking at the camera in shock. She managed a seductive look towards camera and bit her lip whilst looking upwards at the gunge suspended above. Then she went back to nervousness, tensing her shoulders and kicking out her legs.

“Oh look,” said the host in character. The smug look on his face revealed to Nicole that he was loving every minute of this. He walked to the side of the tank where a chain with a large red handle was hanging down. He grasped it with one hand. “We seem to have Ms Scherzinger trapped inside this tank. What do you say, shall we let her out?”

There was a large cry is disagreement from the audience. It was visible now to all that Nicole was hating this experience, and the host was making it worse, drawing out the moment.

“Well then, we better give her what she deserves then!” This was greeted with rapturous applause and cheers from the audience. Nicole sighed. “Sounds like a plan then! Help me count down…”

“Three!”

Nicole glanced up quickly at the gunge one last time before lowering her head. It wasn’t the best idea to be looking up at this time.

“Two!”

The host banged on the perspex at the side. Nicole ignored him and kept her head down, shoulders still tensed and arms by her side.

“One!”

Nicole shut her eyes and took a deep breath. This was it.

The host tugged on the chain, causing an audible creaking sound from the tank. The loud audience cheers still continued as the slop began to fall. Nicole felt the cold gunge slap down onto the top of her head with force, causing the stream to umbrella around her, ricocheting off her head. The funnel of white gunge covered her shoulders and arms in the gunge and splattered the side of the tank. The dome slowly began to collapse in on itself, pouring gunge into Nicole’s lap, down her legs and then down the front and back of her body. She squirmed as the inside of her loose fitting top filled with cold gunge, pressing against her bare skin. The slop poured off of her boobs, streaming down her lower body and pool in her lap. Nicole remained frozen in her position as the gunge now attacked her hair, flattening her curls and saturating her dark brown locks under a coat of thick white slop. Nicole raised her head slightly and gunge poured down her face, covering her features in a layer of white. Within seconds she had been absolutely covered in the white gunge and the deluge still was continuing. Gunge streamed down off the top of her head, running down her back, causing a cold shiver. Even the tight leggings could not keep out the slop and it pooled around her crotch, causing an unpleasant and new sensation for Nicole. The gunge also pooled on the floor of the tank around her feet, which were now nearly completely submerged in the large puddle of goo forming. The cold gunge against her skin was revolting, and as the stream subsided, Nicole ran two hands through her ruined hair, creating trails through the layer of excess white slop. She wiped her eyes and looked out at the audience, who were still cheering loudly.

“Oh my word!” Shouted the host, looking in at the ruined singer. “This is nothing like the adverts!” There was a ripple of laughter from the audience as Nicole managed a smile from beneath her slime covered hair which she slicked back with her hands. She pushed the gunge from her lap with both hands, pooling more gunge onto the floor where it was up to her calves. There was barely an inch of her that wasn’t covered, which made a change from the usual adverts. Ironically, the tip of Nicole’s nose was not covered. The complete opposite from the usual adverts had happened.

As the host wrapped up the show, Nicole was led out of tank, dripping gunge all along the studio floor. As a stagehand handed her a pile of towels, draping one over her shoulder, Nicole thought to herself:

‘I should’ve stayed with the shampoo commercials…’

She could’ve certainly done with some now!

Hey guys, this is my first attempt at writing a WAM story in quite a while, I’m going to continue writing more, so watch this space…

“PICK UP THE PHONE, YOU STUPID BITCH!!!!”

Hayleigh winced as her co-presenter gave up trying to get through with a strangled cry. Erin had always been one to let her emotions get the better of her. Still, even by her standard, leaving her boss a voicemail calling her a ‘stupid bitch’ was not a bright move. As they pulled up outside the office space that housed their base of operations, Erin exited the vehicle at a run. After taking just a moment to make sure her makeup looked okay, and that her rich blonde hair was sitting straight, she followed behind her. Hayleigh, who pretty much refused to run anywhere on general principle, made do with a walk, although her long legs were going at quite some pace. She wasn’t freaking out or anything, but she was concerned. First, the stream had gone live at 10.15am, approximately forty-five minutes earlier than scheduled. Secondly, the stream had gone live without either of the two hosts being there to do the planned introduction segment. Thirdly, while the girl currently on stream certainly bore a resemblance to the chosen contestant, she was unmistakably the wrong girl.

She caught up to Erin at the security door just inside the building, who was fumbling in her bag for her pass. Rather than wait, she smoothly pulled out her own and swiped them both in.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm right now,” said Erin, sounding breathless. “You do remember what happened the last time we got caught up in one of Larissa’s little whims, Hay?”

Hayleigh supressed a shudder.

“We’re almost there. And for heaven’s sake watch what you say to her in there. I don’t want us both ending up on her shit list because you can’t control yourself.”

Although the two presenters weren’t particularly friends outside of work, they shared a look of complete and total empathy as they took places outside of the door to the room where the show was being run from. After a moment, Hayleigh decided empathy needed to be abandoned in favour of self-preservation and gave her easily-led partner a nod to enter the room first. Better Erin stepped into the lion’s den ahead of her, she reasoned.

Hesitantly stepping in behind her meat shield, she looked up to see screen after screen arrayed on the wall in front of her. Most of the screens were deactivated right now; a few held a bustle of activity as members of the public, completely unaware they were being filmed, went past going about their day. On one of the screens, a girl wearing an orchid purple t-shirt and denim shorts was fussily going about a medium sized bedroom picking up various items of clothing strewn around the place haphazardly. Judging by the irritable look on her face, either she had been forced into cleaning up her own mess, or she’d taken it upon herself to clean someone else’s mess up for them. Hayleigh already knew which, since she knew that this room belonged to Rachel Bardsley. Judging from the resemblance, it was reasonable to say that this must be her older sister Claire.

The two sisters weren’t identical; both she and Erin had recognised as soon as they noticed the stream had started that they weren’t looking at the right girl.  Rachel’s hair was dyed blonde, while Claire’s was a fresh medium golden brown worn straight. Claire was quite a bit shorter, she’d noticed, petite even without the comparison. Mousier too; that was the key distinction, she realised. Definitely pretty, no doubt, with doe-like eyes, a light smattering of freckles and a cute little button nose that screwed up quite adorably with disgust as she looked upon a half-eaten banana that was peeking out from underneath the bed. That she left lying there, instead making her way over to the dresser where several books had collapsed in a heap. She gave a very satisfied nod of the head, and smiled once she’d arranged them neatly on a nearby shelf. Although to Hayleigh’s mind this made her an absolute dork, she would concede that the smile transformed the girl from cute to really quite stunning; the girl had a smile to die for.

Larissa Johan Lurinsky was leaning forward slightly in her chair looking up at Claire with eyes that were glowing with an energetic mischief. As Hayleigh and Erin approached, she turned and gave them a smile that showed a perfect set of teeth.

“Larissa,” said Erin, sounding nervous. “You didn’t answer your phone. I left you a message butyoucanjustdeletethat, no need to listen to that now… um, you do realise that the stream is live right? Everyone can see that girl poking about in her sister’s room.”

“I was just testing out the equipment,” said Larissa sweetly. Her voice sounded melodious, pleasant. It always did; in all the time Hayleigh had known Larissa, she’d never once heard her get angry. “Honestly, look at the two of you, running out here making quite the fuss over nothing! Three hundred people are logged in already, you know. Just to watch that girl clean up her sister’s pigsty of a room. Oh, she’s an adorable one, don’t you think?”

Larissa’s voice still sounded pleasant; to most people she would have sounded as soothing as chimes in the wind, but to Hayleigh, they sounded like warning chimes. The problem with Larissa was that she really liked people. Which didn’t sound like a problem, until you began to get a grip on how Larissa saw people. After she’d spent a certain amount of time around her, Hayleigh had begun to realise that there was something about the way the twenty-four year old woman was with other human beings that reminded her of how a child might play with her dolls. If a child had only one doll, then they would be inclined to take great care of it, treating it as something both special and delicate. If however, a child realised that the world was in fact full of dolls, then they might start to grow curious as to say, how far they might be able to twist one’s arm before it snapped off, or how high they might have to drop it before it smashed into pieces.

No-one would have believed such base cruelty could have existed within such a beautiful young woman, however – her appearance was every bit as sweet as her lovely voice. That wasn’t to say she looked innocent like the girl on the monitor; there was definitely a flirtatious edge to the clothing she wore, with her vibrant, orange summer dress with the off the shoulder top that clung to every curve of her shapely body. It wasn’t only her clothing that consisted of bright colours, with her long, flowing hair a sensuous copper red. Two long pigtails, worn high at the sides of her head, ran down past her shoulders. Her full, well-defined lips were complimented with an intense bright red lipstick that went perfectly with her hair. The bright colours were actually a nice contrast with the pale smoothness of her skin, which had a beautiful natural look about it even to Hayleigh, who had been lucky enough to be given a few tips as to the spa-treatments and lotions which helped maintain it.

Standing up now, Larissa practically skipped over to Erin. She thrust her face up close to Erin’s, a coy smile appearing on her lips. Although Erin was looking down on Larissa, she couldn’t meet her gaze. Her eyes awkwardly moved from one side to the other; while Larissa’s head bobbed from side to side to force her to see her, pigtails bouncing as she did.

“So what’s this about a message you want me to listen to?” Larissa asked cheerfully, suddenly snatching her phone up from off the desk.

“No no,” said Erin quickly. Pure instinct overwrote the woman’s common sense as she reached out to try and take the phone. Larissa, smile never leaving her lips, leapt backwards just as nimbly as a deer, holding the phone back out of reach. “You DON’T have to listen to it, I said.”

Tilting her head to one side, looking to Hayleigh much like a bird eyeing a particularly juicy worm, Larissa – completely ignoring Erin’s protests – hit a few keys on her phone. The opening message to her voicemail played. As Hayleigh already suspected, it announced that Larissa had no new messages. And one saved message, which Larissa played on loudspeaker for the room to hear.

“PICK UP THE PHONE, YOU STUPID BITCH!!!!”

Silence hung in the air. Hayleigh had never met anyone who could do uncomfortable silences quite as well as Larissa. She really never had seen her get mad before, and that always made her silences seem that more ominous somehow. They seemed to hold the promise and threat that they really, really might not like what happened if what came out on the other side wasn’t perpetually bubbly, happy Larissa anymore.

Larissa giggled.

“You should see your face right now! Oh, come on Erin. How long have we known each other? Look at me. What’s all this now? Did you really think I’d get upset over you calling me a bitch? Do you have any idea how many people have called me that over the years? It’s like… it’s just what people call me, at this point. I don’t know why mind you; I must just rub people up the wrong way I guess, but I’m used to it. I answer to it just as easily as if it were my very own name! It’s not like I’m going to take offense to it or anything.”

Erin looked relieved.

“But ‘stupid’ on the other hand, now ‘stupid’ is another matter entirely.”

Erin looked considerably less relieved.

“Larissa, I-”

“Now I’m not mad. I don’t consider myself just your boss, you know? You and Hayleigh, I consider you my friends, and I hope that you feel the same way…”

“I do!” said Erin quickly. “Larissa, I do, I just, I just, I’m just so stressed out with everything, you know…”

“…which is why I’m so very disappointed that you would speak to me that way.”

“I’m sorry!” Erin blurted out desperately. She looked over to Hayleigh, imploring her to help. Hayleigh averted her gaze.

Leave me out of his, you stupid girl!

“You know what the punishment is, sweetheart.”

Erin’s eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. Her pretty features were pulled back in a rictus of horror.

“NO! Larissa please, anything but that! I’ll do anything! It’ll never happen again I swear!”

Larissa shook her head, her smile widening. She waggled a well-manicured finger back and forth at her.

“Larissa… p-p-please… punish me, yes. Spank me again! Dock my pay! Even… even put me in the gunge tank, if that’s what you want… but not that. NOT THAT!!!!”

“It’s ‘The Blackening’ for you I’m afraid!”

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!” cried Erin, horrified. “NOT THE BLACKENING LARISSA PLEASE…”

Grin threatening to split her face, Larissa reached up and cupped Erin’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing her to look at her now, and also holding the woman’s trembling lips close to her own.

“Oh, ‘The Blackening’, sweetheart!” cried Larissa cheerfully, giving her cheek two quick gentle slaps with her free hand. Two smartly dressed security guards appeared to either side of Erin, each placing a hand on one of her shoulders. Erin didn’t even acknowledge them as they escorted her from the control room; she knew there was only one person worth talking to in this equation, and that was Larissa, who turned her back and walked over to her chair.

“I’ll be with you shortly,” she said sweetly, ignoring Erin’s protests and resting her hands on the back of the chair. “But first…”

Hayleigh didn’t even have time to react. Larissa’s hand slammed down on a button on the control panel in front of her.

“Hello, Claire!”

***
Someone had to be the responsible one, Claire told herself as she ran a finger over her sister’s dresser, pleased to see it now cleared of dust. She dreaded to think how long it would have been until the room had any kind of proper clean if not for her. Of course, Rachel should have been the one to do it, but instead she was sitting out back in the garden, soaking up the sun, having completely ignored Claire’s very reasonable attempts to convince her to pull her weight. Their parents jobs kept them both so busy that Claire always made sure to pick up as many chores as she possibly could. Someone had to be the responsible one. She just wished that sometimes that didn’t have to be her.

The fact that her sister was skipping out on her university classes today didn’t help earn her any sympathy. Claire too had classes today; but not until the afternoon. This was her second year on her Illustration Animation degree. Normally she would have went in early in the morning anyway and went straight to the library to study or work on her projects, but it was still early in the term and she didn’t have all that much going on at the moment. So today her plan was to tidy up the house, enjoy a quick lunch in town with her friend Ethan, and then catch the first afternoon bus up to the University. Technically she had time to get a later bus, and therefore take more time to enjoy her meal, but Claire was extremely meticulous in her timekeeping; she’d never been late a single time in her life. She always got the bus before the one she needed to get, so that in the event that the bus broke down (which had never once happened), she’d still get to the campus just in the nick of time to be nice and early for her first class.

She stepped back and did a final inspection of the room. Certainly much better, she told herself, with the exception of that disgusting half-eaten banana, which she certainly wasn’t going to be touching. She should have insisted that Rachel clean that up herself, but for all her protests at constantly having to pick up for her younger sister, Claire took a great deal of satisfaction at being the person her parents could depend on, so she couldn’t leave the job unfinished, so instead she pulled a selection of tissues out from the box on the dresser and carefully wrapped them around the gross remains before depositing it in the wastepaper basket at the corner of the room. That she would arrange to empty later.

There, she told herself, pleased with another job well done. It wouldn’t last, but for now her sister’s room was as meticulously clean and tidy as her ow-

“Hello Claire!”

Claire jumped out of her skin.

Claire had always loathed jump scares with an absolute passion. Occasionally Ethan would invite her to the pictures to watch the latest horror movie, and she went, partly because she was definetly crushing on Ethan, but also because ever since she was a little girl, she’d thought the cinema was the absolute coolest place in the world. But she hated horror movies. The gore, despite the fact that Claire was perceived by most as a delicate flower, didn’t really bother her that much. Monsters didn’t frighten her. But any time she went to see a horror movie, she immediately slumped down in her seat, tense as a pigeon thrown in with the cat, nervously awaiting the one, two, twenty times there was a bang on a window or a cat leaping out of a bin or someone turned around and someone unexpected was right there…

“Whoops! Sorry about that – I didn’t mean to scare you! Claire, I’m sure there’s a lot of things going through your head right now, so before you get all bent out of shape, let me tell you that right now, you have been chosen to be a contestant in a live game show that’s being streamed all over the world.”

Claire’s mouth hung open, eyes wide with horror. Her brain was completely unable to process anything that was happening. Claire was a painfully shy girl; the thought of people watching her was an utterly horrifying one. The thought of people watching her when she hadn’t even known they were watching her was even worse. She would never in her life have applied to be on any kind of game show. She dimly recalled one evening at the University when they’d held a raffle for charity, and the winners had to go up on stage to collect their prize. She’d shrunk in her chair when they read her number, almost as if she was trying to disappear under it, and in the end she’d convinced her friend Heather to go and collect it for her rather than face being on stage in front of all those people.

She completely froze up, apart from her hands, which were trembling.

“Ohmygod!” squealed the woman who was talking to her through a speaker hidden somewhere in the corner of the room. Her voice sounded very much like she had just seen a cute little puppy perform the world’s greatest trick. “You are just the most adorable girl I’ve ever seen in my life! Oh, it’s okay Claire, I know you must be so nervous right now, but I’m going to take care of you. We have cameras hidden throughout your house – with your parent’s permission, I might add – but don’t worry about that. There’s only a few hundred people or so watching – only a select number of people who contributed to the show have access to the stream. First things first – if you open the middle drawer in your sisters dresser there, you should find an envelope hidden away at the bottom. Inside the envelope is a tiny earpiece; now only your sister is at home at the moment, and she can’t hear us right now, but I want you to find that earpiece and place it in your ear. That’s going to be my main way of contacting you.”

Claire looked at the drawer. She took a step back towards the door. Claire’s body was not at all in the grip of Claire’s mind at the moment, but she had a vague idea that she was going to run right out of the house and not come back until this woman and all her hidden cameras were long gone. In fact, the only reason she hadn’t was that, despite initially almost giving her a heart attack, there was something very soothing about the voice coming from the speaker; it was so pleasant-sounding as to be almost hypnotic. Her concerns were obviously not lost on whoever it was watching her through those cameras.

“You can choose to opt out of the game, if you so desire. But you should at least hear what I have to say first. Naturally, since this is a game show, there is a prize on offer here. If you succeed, you stand to win fifty thousand pounds.”

Claire stopped backing up.

“Fifty thousand pounds!?” she blurted out without thinking.

“That’s right!” said the woman, sounding pleased. “Now that caught your interest, didn’t it? So if you want to hear the details, all you have to do is put in the earpiece. If not, then you can leave the room and I’ll take that as your refusal. We’ll turn the cameras off, come and collect them later, and we’ll move on to one of the other possible contestants we have lined up.”

Nervously licking her lips, Claire opened the drawer after only a moment’s hesitation. It helped that – other than the owner of that pretty voice – it really didn’t feel as though anyone was watching her. She hated being in crowds, never mind being in front of a crowd, but somehow the idea of people watching her through their screens was something she couldn’t quite process. Fifty thousand pounds was a life-changing sum of money, at least to her. Claire was well aware that many art graduates struggled to find employment in their chosen field and had to take menial jobs to pay the bills. The truth was, for all that she was very much a responsible person, she viewed her life after University with a sense of dread; it was a future filled with a whole lot of uncertainty. At nineteen years old she was an adult of course, but she still had yet to really step out into the real world. Still lived with her parents, never had a real job, had her core group of friends that she was comfortable with and struggled when it came to meeting new people. With that kind of money under her belt, so many of her worries would simply disappear – she’d at the very least be financially secure.

And yet… and yet she had an awful feeling about this. Even though this mystery woman hadn’t explained any of what was to come yet, Claire already instinctively knew what the show would be about – her humiliating herself for money. The weird set up with the cameras, and especially the very peculiar notion of this being streamed over the internet to a select group of people, made that readily apparent. Didn’t that seem especially suspicious? Still, there was no harm in at least hearing the woman out, even if this did end up just being some dumb prank. She fished out the envelope from the bottom of the drawer. On the front was a drawing of a smiley face along with the helpful instruction ‘Insert Earpiece’. The ‘i’ in earpiece was dotted with a little heart symbol. The envelope did not tell her where to insert the earpiece, Claire thought wryly, but happily she was able to figure it out.

“Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you,” said Claire.

“Perfect! Time to fill you in on what’s going on then. So, always assuming you decide to proceed Claire Bardsley, you will be the first ever contestant on our new game show. This is a show with few boundaries or limits. You’ll be playing all around town, and you’ll be playing along with unsuspecting members of the public. My name is Larissa, and I’ll be in charge of the game. I’m going to give you seven tasks to complete, all based around a particular theme. Easier to show you than to explain it. Inside the cupboard behind you is a box: take a peek inside and I’ll tell you what the first task will be.”

Pushing open the cupboard door, Claire moved a row of Rachel’s clothes out of the way so she could pull a large white box out of the cupboard. Sizing it up with her hands

(oh god what if it’s full of spiders or bugs or…)

she gave it a gentle shake. She could hear something sliding around inside. It didn’t appear to be anything alive, she thought with considerable relief. Placing the box on top of Rachel’s bed, she slowly lifted the lid off the box, instinctively recoiling in case something inside leapt out at her. When nothing did, she opened one eye and cautiously took a peek inside the box.

Inside was a large chocolate cake, topped with vanilla buttercream. There was a little love heart on top which was completely lopsided.

“I made that myself!” said Larissa, sounding very proud of herself. “What do you think?”

What Claire thought was that Larissa had slavered the cake with so much buttercream that it was a completely inedible disaster, but she was too polite to ever speak so bluntly. Besides, she didn’t particularly think she was really looking for constructive criticism of her baking.

“Um…. Am I supposed to eat this?” asked Claire, raising a sceptical eyebrow. There was no way she could manage to do that; even without Larissa’s over-enthusiastic topping she would puke all over the place before she could get a quarter of the way through this thing.

“Nope! I’ll give you another guess.”

Claire considered for a moment what one might do with a cake if not eat it. Her pretty features screwed up with disgust.

“It’s not going in my face, is it?”

“Actually, no, but now you have the right idea: this is a messy game show, and all of the tasks you’ll be asked to complete will involve an individual or individuals getting covered with all manner of unpleasant things indeed. Let’s get the rules out of the way: as I’ve mentioned, to win the game you have to complete seven tasks. In order to win the money, you have to succeed at all seven tasks: fail at any point, and you get nothing I’m afraid. If you’re in this, you’re in it to win BIG, or not at all. The game will run across two days. You have a mobile phone, right?”

“Sure,” said Claire. She was a little surprised at how easy she found talking to Larissa, but then, it was easy to talk to someone else when they did ninety-nine percent of the talking . Considering how utterly terrified she’d been mere moments before, however, this seemed like a minor miracle.

“We’re going to exchange numbers,” said Larissa, reading a number aloud to her. “And just in case anyone in the stream gets any ideas about calling me in the middle of the night and breathing down the phone at me: one, that isn’t my real number, and two I get enough people doing that to me as it is. Now here’s a very important rule, Claire: at times when you’re not wearing the earpiece, I may call you at any point during the next two days. You can miss a call one time only, no more. And keep the earpiece with you at all times – you’ll need it. Fail to answer after your first missed call and the game will come to a rather anticlimactic end. Other than that, there’s one main rule you’ll want to keep in mind: you can never tell anyone else that you’re playing the game. Only myself, my team, our select group of viewers, and your parents know. Once we’re finished talking here, you can call your father who’ll be able to confirm that the game is legit – but that’s ALL he can tell you, I’m afraid. Beyond that, your parents are under strict orders not to involve themselves in any way. So, before we go any further, it’s time for you to make a decision.”

“Why me?” asked Claire suddenly. She’d been mulling it over the entire time Larissa had been speaking. She hadn’t been selected as some random bystander from the street. Larissa, and whoever else was behind all this, had specifically approached her parents about this.

“A fair question,” said Larissa, sounding thoughtful. “In truth… your sister put her name forwards to take part. She wouldn’t have known exactly what the show entailed, mind you, but she did apply to be a contestant. But when I saw you in here cleaning up her room for her while she lazed about outside in the sun… well, on a whim, I decided to offer the opportunity up to you. Unfortunately now that I’ve given you all the details, I wouldn’t be inclined to hand her the shot back, so don’t let that influence your decision. Now I’m sure you have further questions, but I won’t answer them. Call your father, take a couple of minutes to think it over, and then tell me what you want to do.”

Claire pulled out her phone, scrolling down to her father’s number. She removed the earpiece while she waited for him to pick up.

“Claire?” he asked, clearly surprised to be hearing from her. Larissa’s words still fresh in her mind, she cut right to the chase.

“Dad… this game show… is it for real?”

There was a moment’s silence.

“Yes, Claire.”

Her father abruptly ended the call. Claire tapped her finger to her lips thoughtfully. She was not a fan of reality TV, nor was she comfortable with the idea of people humiliating other people or themselves for money. Yet now that she was dealing with real money, rather than hypothetical money, it seemed, well… it seemed somehow almost TOO moral to turn it down. The idea of a messy game show sounded a bit weird, not to mention embarrassing, but it wasn’t as if she was being asked to do anything cruel or anything. It was… just a bunch of practical jokes, really, although she was concerned over just how much of the joke would be on her. The idea that she might have to get messy – an idea she had never before contemplated in her entire life – in front of an audience numbering in the hundreds sounded exceptionally humiliating to her. Under any other circumstances she would have said no way… but this was an amount of money that would take her years to save on her own. She would plainly be staying clean in the first task at least; she was pretty sure she knew what that one was going to be already, and Larissa had said that the cake wasn’t meant for her. She wished she had that reassurance for future tasks. Still, wasn’t it better to take the risk than to walk away and forever wonder what could have been? If it really came to it, if she was really placed in a position where she would be forced to humiliate herself or someone else in a way that was simply too much, she could always quit then. And she would too. She was the responsible one, after all.

And that thought gripped Claire almost as tightly as the thought of all that money. All her life she’d held the belief that the world worked a certain way. When it came to religion, she wasn’t entirely sure what she believed, but one thing she had always believed in was karma. If you sent positive energy out into the universe, the universe would give positive energy back. If you did good deeds, you would be rewarded. Claire had been a good person all her life. She’d never gotten detention at school, never been grounded by her parents, never caused trouble for people. She always did more than her share of work around the house, she was always willing to give her time and money to charity, and she always took the time to help her friends if they had problems. And because of this belief, she couldn’t escape the feeling that this was the universe giving her something back. Larissa’s words almost seemed to prove it to her, how she’d acted on a whim to give this to her.

“’I’m in,” said Claire, wishing she sounded more confident. Already she could feel butterflies in her stomach, but something had been handed to her here, she knew, and she couldn’t just throw it away. If Rachel had only went and cleaned up her own room like she should have, it would be her sister competing to win fifty thousand pounds right now. And Claire realised, it would be her who would be getting cake splattered all over her face, yuck!

“Yay!” Larissa squealed. “I’m so glad you’re up for this! We’re going to have so much fun, I can already tell. You might have already worked out what your first task will be, but just to make sure we’re on the same page: in just a moment, I’m going to start a timer. Once it begins, you’ll have five minutes with which to take that cake I’ve given you and put it in your sister’s face. And remember, she can’t know that this is part of a show.”

“But she’s the one who signed up in the first place!” Claire protested, feeling this was enormously unfair. “She’ll figure out right away what’s going on.”

“Highly unlikely – as I’ve said, she didn’t really know what she signing up for. All we put out was that it was an internet game show with a fifty thousand pound prize. There was nothing about what it entailed whatsoever. Anyway, enough talking – time for a caking! Clock starts NOW, Claire. Good luck!”

Claire licked her lips nervously, trying to stop panicking long enough to think. Her sister almost certainly wouldn’t catch on if what Larissa said was true. However, Claire was the absolute last person you would ever expect to play a practical joke on you. It would be tremendously out of character for her to simply walk up to someone and throw a cake into their face. Rachel would certainly know something was up, and then she’d be asking all sorts of awkward questions, and Claire was such a terrible liar she was afraid she might end up giving the game away. She had to make it look like an accident. She closed the door to the cupboard and lifted the box with the cake still inside it; she didn’t want her sister finding it and asking any questions as to why it had been in her room.

Five minutes was plenty of time, but she went down the stairs at a run. Whether it was a university assignment or caking her sister in the face, Claire liked things do be done in a timeous fashion.

“Sorry to be disturbing your train of thought, Claire, but I should point out that in addition to the overall rules already set, each task may have it’s own special set of rules that have to be followed. I make the rules, and I have the final say on what the tasks are, and whether you pass or fail. However, rest assured that I do have to play fair – so no say, telling you to get to Paris in an hour to gunge the Prime Minister or anything.”

When she made it to the kitchen, Claire placed the box on the counter and removed the cake, sizing up how it felt in her hand. If she put her hand on her heart, she would have to admit that she was an unathletic nerd; she couldn’t exactly place much faith in her throwing arm. The idea of her completely missing her target and limply throwing the cake onto the grass was a pretty mortifying one, especially when you considered it would cost her fifty thousand pounds.

After taking a moment to try and compose herself, she opened the back door and stepped out into the garden, holding the chocolate cake at arms length in front of her as if it were a bomb that might go off at any moment. Although it was still early in the day, they were in the peak of summer and it was already blisteringly hot outside. With absolutely no sense of decency or consideration for the neighbours, Rachel was lying on her back on an outdoor chaise lounge wearing nothing but a white bikini and shorts, revealing plenty of pleasantly tanned, smooth skin. Claire did envy her that much; any time spent in the sun caused her own skin to burn, although many parts of flesh on display were parts that Claire would never, ever have exposed to the sun unless in an entirely closed off space, and maybe not even then. In a sense, she actually admired her sister for being such a free spirit, but in another sense, she wished her sister would put some goddamn clothes on before one of the neighbours next door looked over the fence and actually saw her.

She winced as she came to the sudden realisation that, if the caking was taking place here, then there must be cameras planted all over the garden as well. Everyone watching could see her sister stretched out on the chair with virtually no clothes on whatsoever. What if someone reported her for being a public nuisance or something!?

Completely oblivious to all this, and her impending sticky fate, her sister lay with her eyes closed; a content, clueless smile on her pretty fox-like face as she soaked up the sun.

“Hey Rachel!” cried Claire, moving towards her sister at a rapid pace. “You remember how I helped Heather out with her assignment last week? Take a look at what she made for me as a thank you!”

With a yawn, Rachel slowly started to sit up. Pretending that her excitement was getting the better of her, Claire excitedly bounced over towards her sister and just as Rachel opened her eyes, she pretended to stumble awkwardly over her own feet. Claire fell forwards, lifting the cake upwards and depositing it as late as possible to make sure she didn’t miss. With a shriek, Rachel jerked forwards and the cake splatted into her face with a loud smack. Her arms flailed wildly while her legs kicked in all directions, obviously in complete shock over what had just happened. Claire watched as the bottom half of the cake dropped off her chin and deposited itself between her smooth, bronzed young breasts, her white bikini now stained with dark chocolate and sticky white cream. The rest of the cake stuck perfectly to her fox-like features for just a moment, the top of her blonde hair now covered with white cream. Then the bulk of the cake slimed it’s way down her face, exposing a grimace of disgust underneath, before dropping and landing smack on her lap. She whimpered, looking up at Claire, who had caught herself from falling by placing her hand on the side of the lounge chair. Her face was just a chocolate and buttercream disaster.

Beautiful, musical laughter echoed inside Claire’s ear. There was something utterly infectious about it, and as her sister spat a smattering of that surely sickeningly-sweet cake from her mouth, Claire slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from joining in. For a moment, she felt exhilarated, almost liberated in a way. There was something almost arousing about the fact that she’d, for just one moment, forgotten about her inhibitions and morals and just done something brash and impulsive. To, for the first time in her life, actually get one over on her sister who never lifted a finger to help her, or cared about how she might feel. As quick as it came, it was gone, and she felt ashamed of herself for those feelings.

“Oh my God!” said Claire, pretending to have covered her mouth with shock, and not to stifle her own laughter. “Rachel, I am so sorry! I… I totally didn’t mean for that to happen…”

“Look at what you’ve done!” spat Rachel, wiping her face first with her hands, and then once those were all covered in cake, trying with her elbows. Neither of these made any headway in clearing up her extremely gooey face. “Honestly, you’re so clumsy it’s unreal. Thank god no-one can see me right now.”

Despite everything, Claire still had something of a mother within her, and she reached out to try and brush some of the crumbs off of Rachel’s hair. She got her hand slapped away angrily for her trouble.

“You’ve done plenty, thank you very much,” said Rachel. “I’m going inside to get cleaned up, and if you were you Claire, I would just stay out of my way for the rest of the day.”

As Rachel stormed into the house, leaving a trail of crumbs and icing behind as she went, Claire breathed a sigh of relief. Rachel might not be at all happy, but she completely bought that her caking had been an accident. Of course she did; Claire would never deliberately pull something like that, after all.

“Congratulations, Claire,” said Larissa. “You’ve passed your first task, but we still have a long way to go. And I will warn you that they’re going to get harder from here. You don’t have time for a break I’m afraid, and we’re going to start with the second challenge… right now!”

Claire closed her eyes, but opened them again as Larissa explained what the second task would be. Absolute dread filled her, and she could feel a blush starting to envelop her face. The first challenge had been simple, almost fun, if just for a moment.

This one was going to be an absolute nightmare.

Welcome to the second part of my called Paradise by the Fairground Light series, which I finally wrote the end of this week, reaching chapter 50. Yes I did do a little editing to get that conveniently round number.
You may be wondering why I don’t upload sooner. Well as I go along my plans and characters often change as I write and develop things, which often means going back and making changes, which I couldn’t do if I’d already published it.
In this section for instance I had to make an edit that would have led to a future continuity error if I hadn’t made it, and make sure I’d got Kelly’s character right. Her character was the one that took longest to develop, so I had to make sure there was nothing out of character to what I finally settled on later on.
The story itself is a continuation of the first part, that continues to introduce the characters, and sets up the main plotline for this series. It also features a messy scene, based around the idea for a set up I’d been playing with for a while, and had even considered using on previous series. I’m glad I did wait to use it here in the end, as it’s a much better fit for the Wild Cat characters than it would have been for any of the other characters I previously considered for this set up.

Chapter 6:

“Ok that was Johnny singing his own interpretation of My Way. Next up to sing we have Mathew.”
“Over here!”
Now that was a surprise.

12 and a half days have passed since I last updated you, and to say my life was a bit different to how it was going a fortnight ago would be an understatement.
Nearly all of my free time had been spent with Hayley, and often the other Wild Cats. We’d been out to lunch together on my days off, and the evenings had been spent at the carnival. I finally had someone to do the rides with between shows, but most of the time had been spent at the show tent. I’d not just been watching, and participating in a few more bloodbaths though. Rather than remain idle I had been helping out, selling tickets while the Wildcat’s did their spiel on the promo platform, learning how the lighting controls worked, and helping out with the costumes and props.
I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the changes. I’d overheard Mum say how she was worrying about how much time I was spending at the carnival, and staying out overnight. In reply Dad rightly guessed I’d met a girl, which was a good thing after spending the last several months moping over my ex Sara.
Even at my work at one of the supermarkets on Western Road I’d been happier going about my job, despite being tired from the late nights. It had helped that Hayley and the others had popped in to see me on a couple of occasions, something Sara had never bothered to do, even when she came into the town centre. This had meant I’d been asked a few questions by my work colleagues, but I remained tight lipped on the subject.
It seemed a huge shame the carnival ended this weekend. The good news was Hayley family were fairground showmen, based in Eastbourne around an hour away from Brighton. This meant we would continue to see each other when she wasn’t touring. The bad news was the Wild Cats would be touring Europe for 2 months when the carnival ended. For now I was intent on making the best of our time together before she went off on tour.

That brings us to the present. It’s Thursday and we’d done the last show for the night. We’d opted to head to a small but lively bar, a short distance from the carnival for a couple of hours, where we discovered it was Karaoke night. I’ve always been happy to sit back and watch Karaoke with bemusement and have never got up and sung before. It was a bit of a shock when my name was called out and Kelly and Lilly pointed me out.
“What?” I said.
“Well we’ve been singing for your entertainment for 2 weeks” said Lilly.
“It’s about time you returned the favour” said Kelly.
With all eyes in the bar now looking at me I found myself reluctantly walking up to the Karaoke machine. As I looked behind me I saw Lilly and Kelly leading Hayley by the arm to watch things front and centre. I had a fair idea of what had happened when I saw the song someone (and I had a good idea who) had nominated me to sing. “What’s New Pussycat?” by Tom Jones.
With all eyes on me I made a fair go of the song. Of course I was put of a little by Kelly and Lilly’s obvious amusement at mine and Hayley’s embarrassment at lines such as “Pussycat, Pussycat, you’re so thrilling, and I’m so willing, to care for you.”

“I can’t believe you two did that” exclaimed Hayley afterwards.
“What you don’t want to here him sing for you” said Lilly.
“You’re his pussycat, and he loves you” laughed Kelly.
“Don’t want him to kiss your pussycat lips” laughed Lilly.
“You don’t want to hear how he loves your pussycat eyes” laughed Kelly.
“Do you want to find another bar Mathew?” Hayley asked. “One without these two in it.”
“Oh come on” said Lilly. “It was just a joke.”
“We’ll buy you two a drink to make it up to you” said Kelly.
“Mine’s a double” said Hayley.
Hayley and Kelly both went up to the bar to get the next round.
“You know, I think Hayley’s really starting to like you” said Lilly.
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“There’s a few little things, like the fact she’s bothered with lipstick and heels for after work drinks, and the fact she was more upset by that joke than she’d normally be.”
I nodded my head in agreement.
“The biggest thing though is how she doesn’t share everything with us” said Lilly.
“I thought she shared an awful lot of details” I said. That was true, something I was still getting used to.
“No not the physical side of things. More how she feels emotionally. She’s always been happy to talk about her relationships when it’s at a fun or casual stage. If her feelings get more intense though she always becomes a lot more guarded, often talking about the physical side more as a cover up.” she explained.
“Shame we’re not going to be able to see much of each other the next couple of months” I said. “I’m definitely going to try to come out and see you during my weeks holiday though.”
“We’ll all look forward to that” said Lilly. “Not just Hayley, but me and Kelly to. The extra help makes putting on the shows a lot less stressful, but more importantly you’ve been a lot of fun to have around.”
“Ah thanks” I said, a little dumbstruck by the sentiment shown.
“Oh don’t get too mushy” said Lilly. “Looks like things are getting interesting at the bar.”
“Is that man trying to chat up Kelly?” I asked.
“Looks like it” said Lilly. “Hopefully he’ll get the hint before he gets his drink thrown over him.”
Things had calmed down a little after Kelly and Lilly’s little joke, but we didn‘t forget about it completely. Half an hour later they found themselves having to publicly sing a version of Wannabe by the Spice Girls, which was hilarious to watch.

Chapter 7:

It was the next day, a little under 24 hours later. We’d just done the last show. I was in the backstage area doing a little tidying up to keep myself occupied while I waited for the Wild Cats who were in the camper van attached to the backstage area getting ready. I’d heard a little more noise and giggling than normal, but had put that down to the excitement of it being our last Friday night out in Brighton. It was quickly revealed that I should have been a little more suspicious.
“Oh Captain! Come over here, we’ve got a nice surprise for you.”
Hearing that made me very nervous. Especially as it was Kelly and Lilly calling me Captain, normally they only do that as a joke. I nervously went over to the side door, that was only slightly open, and slid it open all the way. There was indeed a major surprise waiting for me. Kelly and Lilly had changed into a yellow and a purple sexy cocktail dress each, but Hayley was completely different. The floor of the van had been covered in a load of plastic sheets, and sitting on them was Hayley completely naked, apart from some handcuffs around her wrists, and one pair of ankle cuffs around her ankles, and another pair chaining the other two pairs of cuffs together, to restrict her movement even further.
“Come on Captain” said Lilly. “We’ve arranged a special treat for your’s and Tigresses two week anniversary.”
I nervously stepped into the van, at which point Kelly slid the door shut behind me. I looked at Hayley and she gave me a wide, gleeful smile.
“You need to take off your cloths as well” said Kelly.
With an encouraging nod from Hayley I took off my shoes, socks, trousers and shirt.
“You need to take everything off” said Kelly.
I paused nervously when she said this.
“Come on” Kelly said. “It’s not like we‘ve not heard about it already. Now take your underpants off, and sit down behind Hayley and put your arms around her.”
This time I did as I was told, trying to do it with as much dignity as I could muster, which wasn’t that easy.
“Wow you do have a really wide cock” said Lilly. “No wonder you make Hayley moan so much.”
“Do you have to look?” blushed Hayley.
“No, but that’s not going to stop me” said Lilly.
Once I was in place Kelly produced another pair of handcuffs. This pair she put on my wrists, that were now resting on Hayley’s stomach. She positioned them to pass under the chain running from Hayley’s wrists to her stomach, leaving me handcuffed in position. Hayley started to giggle and held onto my hands as I instinctively wrapped my legs around her. Lilly and Kelly started to unpack 2 carrier bags containing a range of prepared deserts and sweet items onto the floor.
“As you can see we popped into your work while you where at lunch” said Kelly.
“Why did I agree to this again?” giggled Hayley.
“Oh don’t pretend you’ve not wanted to get properly messy with him for at least a week” replied Kelly.
I found myself squeezing onto Hayley as I was infected by her gleeful anticipation. I was thinking back to just over 2 weeks ago when I couldn’t have ever imagined agreeing to do something I then would have considered humiliating and embarrassing. Now though with Hayley joyfully anticipating things I found myself joining in with her joy. Of course it helped we were both naked and handcuffed, I was more than a little turned on at this point.
“So what should we give them first?” asked Lilly.
“Hmmm” replied Kelly, making a big show of perusing the items available. “How about we give them a trifle each?”
“Good idea” said Lilly.
They both picked up a trifle each, and removed the cardboard sleeve and the plastic film. Lilly stood beside Hayley and held her trifle just in front of her face with one hand, while Kelly stood directly behind us, and held the trifle with both hands and lowered it down in front of my face. I closed my eyes, grimacing a little, knowing I was now helpless to stop things. After several killer seconds of anticipation I felt the cool cream pressed into my face, followed by the texture of the jelly and sponge. I found myself suppressing a giggle as the trifle was firmly held in place. I gasped through a mask of thick whipped cream as the ruminants of the trifle were squished over my head, leaving the contents squished into my hair. As this happened I saw Lilly throwing the leftovers of her trifle right onto Haley’s naked crotch, that caused her to give out a loud naughty laugh.
With the trifles used Kelly and Lilly went over to restock. I took the chance to look at Hayley’s beautiful, smiling cream covered face. It was a site I found irresistible, and I couldn’t stave off the temptation of leaning in to lick some of the cream off her right cheek. She gave out a little giggle, turned to face me and gave my cheek a delicate lick. We nervously continued to lick each others faces, until inevitably are tongues caressed each other’s lips and then are lips touched. We closed our eyes and exchanged many short and sweet kisses. Almost instinctively my right hand found it’s way to the trifle on Hayley’s lap and slowly caressed the textured sponge and jelly across it. Hayley responded by kissing me even more passionately, her lips firmly sealing themselves against mine, her tongue penetrating it’s way down my throat.
We became aware of Kelly and Lilly approaching us but neither me or Hayley wanted to break off this passionate embrace. In fact what they did fuelled our passions even further, as we both felt the sensation of a cool liquid being poured onto our heads, and cascading its way across all sides. As it touched our lips the taste of chocolate milkshake was added to the delicious tastes of each other, we were both eagerly devouring.
Only after the chocolate cascade had ceased did we dare to break contact. We both looked at each other with nervous smiles, regarding the chocolate covered forms we’d both become.
“Your so sweet” said Lilly.
“So, are you enjoying yourself Hayley” asked Kelly.
“Yes” she giggled.
“What about Mathew?” asked Lilly. “Does it feel like he’s enjoying himself?”
Hayley responded by pressing and gyrating her body against mine, rubbing against my already semi hard cock. I let out a number of involuntary moans and grimaces, unable to speak any more coherently as she teasingly brought it to full hardness.
“He’s definitely enjoying himself” grinned Hayley.
“Well don’t go too mad just yet” smiled Kelly. “We’ve still got some nice items to go.

Chapter 8:

We got a brief pause as Lilly and Kelly lined up their next items. While Lilly stood back a little Kelly had several large tubs of fresh custard lined up besides us. I could hear Hayley’s breath quicken in anticipation as Kelly held the first tub over her head. The heavy breathing soon turned into a prolonged quiet giggle as the custard was poured over her head and slowly dripped down her body. Quite a bit started to cascade down her back and on to my stomach with a cold sharp sensation. That was only the start though as the next tub was poured over my head. I shuddered with excitement as the custard formed a cool thick layer that covered my hair and dripped down my face. That wasn’t the end though as custard was poured all down my back, leaving me covered in thick mess.
I got off quite lightly though compared to what came to the more exposed Hayley, as custard was slowly drizzled onto her breasts, across her stomach and lap, and then onto both our legs. I let out an uncontrolled laugh as the custard tickled my exposed feet.
With the custard used up it was time for Kelly to step back and for Lilly to step forward. She only had the one container, but it was a lot larger than the custard pots had been. The label described it as a chaos pot desert, and it contained swirls of both chocolate and cream mousse, decorated with thin slivers of white and milk chocolate. Lilly started by picking out a piece of chocolate to eat herself, before offering a piece to me and Hayley. Her generosity was short lived though, as she took a handful of the mousse and rubbed it on to the souls of Hayley’s feet. Lilly let a minx like smile come across her face as Hayley squirmed and giggled uncontrollably as Lilly continued to tickle her feet, even after she’d rubbed all the mousse on. I found myself tightening my grip on Hayley, more than a little turned on by the site of her helplessness.
That was nothing though compared to what came next. Lilly took a large handful of mousse in each hand, and placed each one on one of Hayley’s breasts. Lilly caressed Hayley’s breasts with deliberate teasing slowness. As Hayley’s breath became measured and laboured and her hands struggled in the handcuffs I couldn’t resist stroking my hands across her crotch. I felt a tingle of pleasure pass through my body, as Hayley continued to moan rhythmically. I continued to stroke Hayley as Lilly went behind me and rubbed 2 large handfuls of mousse onto my shoulders, firmly rubbing my shoulder and neck with her fingers. I closed my eyes, overcome by the sensation of Hayley’s warm body writhing against me, and the pleasurable touch of Lilly massaging my shoulders. This lasted until I heard Hayley give out a loud sharp gasp, and her body temporarily tensed up, before completely collapsing in my arms. We rested our heads against each other, as Lilly took the opportunity to rub the last of the mousse into our faces and hair before going back to where Kelly was watching.
“So are you glad you agreed to this now Hayley?” asked Kelly.
She nervously nodded, temporarily stunned into silence.
“Well we’ve used up the main deserts we brought” said Kelly. “We’ve still got some nice stuff to go on top though.”
“Oh no” smiled Hayley, as both Lilly and Kelly picked up 2 cans of squirty cream each. They slowly took the lids off, and shook the cans before holding all 4 a couple of feet above us. After a very slight pause me and Hayley where subjected to a deluge of cream, as the contents of all 4 cans rained down on us, decorating us with streaks of cream across our already mess covered bodies.
When the cream ended that wasn’t quite the end, as Hayley and Lilly still had a plastic tub of chocolate cake sprinkles each, which they shook out all over me and Hayley to add one last layer to the variety of substances we were now covered in.
“So did you two enjoy yourselves” asked Lilly.
We both nodded in agreement.
“Well me and Lilly have to clean up a little before we go out” said Kelly.
“You two need to clean up?” laughed Hayley.
“Look what you’ve done to us” I smiled.
“Well we’ll be back in a few hours to release you two” said Kelly.
“Hang on!” exclaimed Hayley.
“What?” asked Lilly. “You said you wanted some time alone with Mathew.”
“I don’t think this is what she had in mind” I said.
“You’ll be fine” said Kelly. “We’ll leave the van’s heater on so you don’t get cold.”
So despite our protests me and Hayley where left chained up on the floor of the van, covered in various desert items. Now on our own I hugged Hayley warmly, and placed a kiss on her neck.
“It could be worse” I said.

Chapter 9:

A fair amount of time had passed. It’s was hard to know how much with no clocks available. I was lying down, Hayley still in my arms, us both relaxing under the wave of euphoria that engulfed us. Using my hands and fingers I’d made Hayley cum 3 times since Lilly and Kelly had left. Her options were more limited, but by gyrating her body against mine, and rubbing my cock at regular intervals she’d kept me in a heightened state of pleasured arousal for a prolonged amount of time until the teasing stimulation had finally been enough to make me orgasm incredibly intensely.
“I don’t know whether I’m going to thank or kill Kelly and Lilly when they come back” said Hayley.
“How did you end up with such wild friends?” I asked.
“Us wild types tend to stick together” she replied. “We have done since school.”
“How’d you go from that to life on the road together?” I asked.
“I guess we all wanted to strike out” she said. “Kelly and Lilly’s parents couldn’t financially support them in further education, and my prospects involved working for my parents forever. When we found about a sideshow retiring we all took out personal loans to go into business ourselves.”
“Oh really” I said.
“I still don’t know how we made it through that first year” she continued. “We had both limited knowledge of both putting on a show, and touring fairgrounds in general, plus we all had those loans to pay back. There were times when we were living off tinned tomatoes and pasta, money was so tight. As time went on though we started putting on better shows, and got better at promoting them and picking the right carnivals and fairs to attend, until we ended up with the successful show we run today.”
“It was all worth it in the end then” I said.
“It was” she said. “It’s still a lot of hard work, but we make good money touring the country, and even further afield with my best friends, even if I do feel a little third wheelish to their relationship sometimes. I’m so glad I found you to help with that.”
“I’m thankful you came after me too” I said. “Even though I’m still not completely sure how it happened.”
“Sometimes you just see something that clicks” said Hayley. “Maybe you don’t always get it right, but you can’t be afraid of taking a chance.”
“I’m so going to miss you when your on tour” I said.
“Well that doesn’t necessarily have to happen” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked a little perplexed.
“Well me, Lilly and Kelly did talk about this earlier today. It’s one of the reasons they gave us some time alone. With all the help you’ve been there’s no reason we couldn’t offer you a paid position on the team for the tour. We make more than enough to do so, plus it would make one of the more demanding times of the year a lot easier for us, not to mention all the great times we could have together.” she said.
“I don’t know what to say” I said, slightly stunned by the offer.
“Don’t worry” she said. “I know this must be a bit of a surprise. Take a little time to mull it over before deciding.”

“Woo-ooo. We’re back.”
It was even more time later when our peaceful embrace was interrupted by Lilly’s exuberance.
“Did you ask him?” she asked as she came in.
“Yes I did” replied Hayley.
“Yay” cried Lilly. “We’re going to have such fun together, all the fun, games, all the love, and the sex.”
“Have you had much to drink?” I asked.
“A little” Lilly smiled. “It doesn’t mean I don’t mean it when I say I love you two, although not as much as I love you Kelly.”
Kelly was just coming into the van. Thankfully she was in a better state than Lilly.
“You two are still here then” said Kelly. “That’s a good sign.”
“Where were we going to go left in the dark like this?” I asked.
“Well you could have got up and walked around, all be it slowly” said Kelly. “You could have got up and found the handcuff keys I left on the desk out there.”
“What?” cried Hayley.
“Well I wouldn’t make it so you couldn’t get out if you really wanted to” said Kelly. “It seems neither of you were that unhappy about being chained together. Do you want to stay like that a bit longer?”
“No” said Hayley. “That mess your poured on us is getting dry and crusty.”
“I’m sure not all the dry crusty mess is because of us” leered Lilly.
Kelly handed the keys so she could unlock both her hands, and she could unlock her ankles. We both stood up to wipe ourselves off properly and stretch our limbs.
“We’re going to have so much fun” said Lilly. “Tomorrow we can go shopping and buy all the nice things your going to need.”
“Calm down” said Hayley. “He’s not decided yet. Anyway I think I’ve got everything I need already.”
“Your going to need your own handcuffs” smiled Lilly. “You can’t keep borrowing mine forever.”
“Judging by the mess your going to need to buy a new set of your own” said Kelly.
“Oh they can be cleaned up” said Lilly. “Your not going to escape my clutches that easily” she said before aggressively kissing Kelly.

Finally free from our bounds me and Hayley both got into the shower to both clean off. It may surprise you that’s all we did, but after several hours chained together we’d both experienced a whole gamut emotionally, and were satisfied at the euphoria each others presence brought.
When we came out we spotted a large black bin bag in the backstage area where Lilly and Kelly had cleared up. Heading into the van the bed mats had been put down. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I spotted Lilly and Kelly’s form writhing around under their blankets, occasionally emitting a soft moan.
“Looks like they’re at it already” whispered Hayley.
I had initially been a little shocked by just how far the co-habiting arrangements between the three Wild Cats went. Now after a couple of weeks I’d become much more use to it.
“Lets get a bucket of water” I whispered back.
“Oh that’s cruel” sniggered Hayley.
“Compared to what they did to us” I replied.
“Fair point” said Hayley, “but we’re also using that bed, and you probably want to get some sleep before work tomorrow. Unless your planning to phone them and say you quit.”

Chapter 10:

So your probably wondering what I did next. You may think 2 months touring Europe with 3 beautiful women, one of who I’m having great sex with, what’s to think about. Well the fact I’d just be quitting my job, and just disappearing from the lives of my friends and family did present a fair amount of trepidation. By the mourning though, having taken a little time to think about it I realised that if I let these worries get to me, and turned this opportunity down I would always look back and regret it.

Even having made this decision firmly in my mind I still went into work with a lot of trepidation, knowing I was announcing my intentions to leave without even giving the standard 2 weeks notice. Things went an awful lot better than I could have imagined. After answering a few questions my boss informed me they had quite a few people looking for summer jobs, so they could give me a couple of months unpaid leave without too much disruption. It was like fate had planned things out for me.
The fact I wouldn’t’t be looking for a job when I got back also had the advantage of making things easier with my family, or at least with my Dad. Once I’d gone through the details he was supportive, and admitted he’d had probably have done the same thing in my position. He did insist he got to meet my new girlfriend, so we arranged to meet up for Sunday lunch, and a trip to one of the afternoon Wild Cats shows, so he could meet everyone backstage afterwards. We made Lilly and Kelly promise to be on their best behaviour.

My Mum has always seemed to spend the 2 weeks previous to me going on holiday worrying, ever since I started going on holiday on my own. The news I was planning on working abroad for 2 months sent her into overdrive, with an endless stream of questions and worries, despite both mine and my Dad’s reassurances.
None of that though was going to put me off though, so with my suitcase packed, via a lift my Mum insisted my Dad give me, I made my way to the site of the carnival late Monday mourning.
This was actually my first sighting of the Wild Cats campervan when it wasn’t incorporated into the tent structure. It was a large Chevy style van with mirrored windows down the side. It was painted black, with airbrush art with the Wild Cat’s name, and pictures of the heads of various big cats snarling at you. The van was already tall to allow for standing up inside, and the height was added too by a large secure looking box took up the entire roof, where I knew the tent, generators, lights, costumes and almost everything else needed for the show was kept.
Inside was even cosier than it was before, now the fridge, 3 other suitcases and a few other home comforts had been moved inside it. I spotted all the bedding material on one side, during the day a folding table and chairs had been set up in the middle of the van. Not the most glamorous accommodation for the next 2 months, but the company it came with more than made up for it. After saying my final goodbyes to my Dad, and promising to call often so Mum didn’t worry we all set off for what was for me at least a totally new experience.

 As always, the events in this story are purely fictional, any representations of the people in this story should not be taken as reality. This story is had been written purely for entertainment purposes. 

Hey guys, this is the first episode of my new celebrity story series, feedback is appreciated. Thought I’d take things back to basics with this series. Hope you enjoy,      TripleWAM 

“Hello! I’m Alice Levine and welcome to Tank Talk here on Youtube!” enthusiastically said Alice, introducing the show. She was wearing a patterned black sleeved blouse which contrasted with her naturally pale skin and copper hair, which was tied into a loose bun. “This is a brand new show that is unlike any other and is exclusive to Youtube.I interview celebrities who are seated here, inside this gunge tank.” Alice gestured to her left where a large gunge tank was situated in the middle of the small, round stage. The tank was a classic design, with  a blue frame and large perspex panels stretching from bottom to top on three sides. The front side featured a perspex door which stopped halfway up the cubicle. Inside was a stool with a white plastic seat and four metal legs. Attached to the top of the tank was the transparent gunge compartment that featured the show’s logo on the front side. The gunge would be released via a large metal chain hanging from the right side of the tank with a yellow handle. The chain was linked to a mechanism that would release, sending gunge pouring down into the tank through several small holes to create a shower effect before changing to one large hole a few seconds into the gunging, allowing for maximum coverage. To the right of the tank was another stool identical to the one inside the tank, where Alice would be sitting for the show. The whole set, including the stage and backdrop featured a yellow, white and blue colour scheme, with the show’s logo printed in large form on the background of the set.

Alice walked over to her seat to the right of the tank. “So, each episode we will have a celebrity guest who will sit here in the tank for the interview” She patted the side of the tank as she explained the details. “I’ll chat to our guest, asking a few questions including those submitted by the audience on Twitter. Then come the fun part,.” Alice took hold of the metal chain by the yellow handle with a smile. “To end the interview on a high note, our celebrity guest will be gunged. And if you’re wondering what could possibly attract guests to this show, well, for each guest gunged, we will donate “£500 to their chosen charity.”

“Now, it’s time to kick things off with our first guest of the series. She’s a model and an actress new to the scene, she’s from London and she possesses a killer set of eyebrows, please welcome Cara Delevingne!” The camera panned around from Alice to the left of the stage where Cara walked on through an archway at the back of the set. The English model was wearing a white summer dress, revealing her typical model’s figure. The dress was low cut with straps on the shoulders. She wore a pair of white high heels on her feet at the end of her elegant long legs that were revealed by the short dress. Her straight dark blonde hair framed her round face and was parted in the middle, stopping just below her bare shoulders. As usual, Cara’s standout feature was her trademark thick eyebrows, an unconventional look, but one she glamorously always managed to pull off. Her typical confident model’s strut as she walked was juxtaposed by the nervous look on her face as she first saw the gunge tank. She waved to the camera nervously before hugging Alice, who welcomed her and ushered her into the tank. Alice held the door open as Cara apprehensively stepped into the cubicle, looking up at the nozzle that would soon be the entry point of countless litres of slop. Cara contemplated on whether to leave her shoes outside the tank, but Alice had closed the half-door round shut before she could kick the white heels off.

“So Cara, welcome to the show! It’s an honour for us to have you with us, and may I say, an honour for you to be the first occupant of our lovely gunge tank here!” said Alice warmly as she sat back in her seat beside the tank.

“Thanks, I think!” replied Cara with a shy laugh. “I’m honoured to be the guinea pig of the gunge tank! Can’t say I’m looking forward to it much though.” She nervously looked up again at the nozzle as she spoke.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be glad to know then that we have filled up the tank today with extra sloppy custard, just for you,” replied Alice as Cara sarcastically thanked her. “Can’t promise it’ll be warm though, in fact I’ve just heard that our staff forgot to warm it up, so sorry Cara I guess you’ll have to deal with cold, lumpy custard instead!” That made Cara feel even more apprehensive about the next ten minutes. It was bad enough having to be covered in cold custard, let alone sit in the tank for ten minutes while it ominously loomed above her, ready to cover her!

Alice then proceeded to start the interview, asking Cara about her recent acting roles as well as how filming was going for DC’s upcoming ‘Suicide Squad’ movie, in which Cara was set to star. Cara appeared to be slightly more relaxed when being interviewed, however every now and then she would glance up at the custard above and get a cold shiver down her spine. The conversation soon moved onto Cara’s modelling and her famed eyebrows before Alice asked her some fan questions from social media. After about ten minutes worth of interview, Alice changed subject back to the task at hand.

“So Cara, unfortunately I seem to be all out of questions!” teased Alice. “Are you ready for what happens next?” Cara couldn’t muster a response, she just shook her head as she began to tense up in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“I guess this means this interview is over! Any last thoughts before I do the honours?”

“Wanna switch places?” Cara replied cheekily. She nervously giggled and adjusted her hair, glancing up at the custard once more.

“I think I’m alright out here Cara to be honest,” replied Alice, stretching out an arm towards the chain, grasping it by the yellow handle. “Ready?” Cara winced and shook her head once more. She tensed her shoulders and took a deep breath. Alice applied force to the chain, pulling downwards with a large smile. Something clicked from above Cara’s head…

Cara squealed as the first stream of the freezing custard made contact with her back, pouring inside of her summer dress onto her bare skin. The custard started to pour down in about 16 different small streams as if it were coming out of a shower head. Some streams poured down her back whereas some started to attack her blonde hair, covering it with a sea of yellow slop almost immediately. Some streams at the front went down the front of her dress as Cara leaned back slightly out of the way of some of the streams. She screamed out again as the freezing custard poured down her chest like a waterfall through her cleavage. By leaning back slightly, Cara also exposed her face to the custard, and several streams began to mask her features behind a layer of yellow, including her famous eyebrows. Her hair was pretty much completely covered already, and custard poured off her hair and down her bare shoulders. Some streams attacked the outside of the dress and some custard had began to pool in her lap between her bare legs. A few trickles of custard even made their way down her gorgeously long legs.

Cara’s arms remained at her side, gripping tightly onto the side of the stool. The streams of custard appeared to subsidise after a few moments and Cara sighed. However, her relief did not last more than a few mere seconds as the separate streams made way for one large deluge of custard. The vat above continued to empty at a rapid pace as custard now started to dome off the top of her head, splashing the side of the tank. Due to the thickness of the sloppy custard, this dome soon collapsed, sending another wave of gunge down onto Cara’s hair and down her face. Streams of custard poured off her round chin and straight down her cleavage thanks to her dresses low cut neckline that had now plunged further down her breasts. The custard saturated the white dress, sticking it to Cara’s skin that was also covered with custard from the inside of the dress. The cascade from above showed no signs of relenting as Cara’s features were now completely masked by a constant stream of custard. She opened her mouth, gasping for breath before sticking out her tongue to get a taste of the custard. She finally moved her arms to wipe her eyes, but this was in vain as the constant custard stream soon recovered the cleaned skin. Cara ran two hands through her custard saturated hair as the stream finally showed signs of slowing down, now just forming a slight trickle on top of her head. She slicked back her hair and again wiped her eyes, her eyebrows matted with flecks of goo. She opened her mouth wide in shock towards the camera before playfully licking some custard off her finger. She rubbed two hands down her thighs, pushing the pool of custard that had formed in her lap down her calves and onto her already messy feet. Her heels were buried beneath the large amount of custard that had collected in the bottom of the tank, overloading the drainage system at the bottom of the cubicle. She readjusted her saturated dress, pulling the fabric from her skin and raising the neckline again to a modest height.

“Oh my word!” was all Alice could say as she stood by the side of the tank, mouth open wide in shock. “What a gunging! Cara, how do you feel after that?”

“Messy!” replied Cara as she again ran a hand through her custard saturated hair. “It’s everywhere!” She was laughing now, although mainly out of shock over what had just happened. “Want some?” she said, flicking some Custard from her hands in the direction of Alice, who quickly moved backwards, dodging the splash.

“Ok, I’m getting out of here before I get custarded! Thanks to Cara Delevingne for being such a great sport today and being the first star to be gunged on Tank Talk. For her troubles, we are going to donate £500 to  charity of her choice. Thank you very much for watching, please subscribe to catch more episodes every week, only here on Youtube. I’ve been Alice Levine, join us next time for another celebrity trashing! Goodbye!” Alice waved to the camera as it zoomed out on the studio. Cara was still sat in the gunge tank, completely covered in yellow slop, still trying to contemplate what had just happened. It was certainly a very unique experience for her, and one that she would not forget in a hurry!

So, it’s festival season and the amount of time I can spend writing is… actually about the same as it was in the months before festival season. I would say it’s down because of work, but I was pretty stretched before anyway. However, I do have some good news.

First of all, Part Y will be done by myself. It’ll be a bit longer and include a bit of an in-universe delay which I’ve written that I hope people will enjoy, which might lead to a side-story later on. The gungee is going to be Yiolanda Koppel, probably best known for hosting the first series of Mad For It and going in the Dungeon of Gunge.

I will also be doing Part Z. I’ve decided the mess, but as with part Y, I’m keeping that a surprise. However, I haven’t decided who I’m going to write about. I mean, I started a part about Zoe Saldana, but I’ve had other ideas since. That’s where you guys come in. I’m going to put it to the vote. Who’s going to take the mess in the penultimate part of the A-Z?

Saldana’s an actress, appeared in Guardians of the Galaxy, Avatar and the rebooted Star Trek. Sugg is a YouTuber (you may know her as Zoella but knowing the majority of the blog’s demographic, probably not) who mainly does makeup and fashion stuff, and also appeared on the celebrity version of Great British Bake-Off. Salmon was a Blue Peter presenter who got slightly less gunged than Gethin Jones (but you all probably knew that!). Quinn made the game Depression Quest and if I say any more about her, I fear the site may implode.

Poll will be open for a week, after which I should have part Y up.

So here’s a recent Avon advert, detailing all sorts of weird and wonderful skincare treatments, past and present. I’ll let it speak for itself.