This story is purely a work of fiction. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.
Author’s Note: So this one’s a little different again. Natalie meets up with her cousin Scarlett, last seen in my first story, and fun things start to happen. Inspired to some degree by reality, though real life isn’t nearly so elaborate. This one involves a bit more variety in mess than my previous ones so let me know if I’m stretching credulity yet. Natalie’s starting to come into her own as she develops her sense of self and explores her feelings regarding wam, and having someone close to her who appears to have at least a little interest in it certainly helps. It’s a little shorter than the last one but still about 4500 words, so let me know if that seems too much to take at once. Feedback’s always welcome, and I’d be particularly interested in hearing if people want to see more of Scarlett, or Natalie, or both, or maybe something completely different. Hope you enjoy it.
Natalie strolled along the sunny street, enjoying the relative warmth of an Indian summer. No clouds, no rain, no muddy puddles to splash her in the face; for once it was nice to be outside. She held a cell phone to her ear, letting it ring, and left a message after the beep.
“Scarlett, it’s your cousin, let’s go bowling!”
Natalie smirked at the private joke. Bowling wasn’t really her speed, or her cousin’s, but the little phrase meant something to them. What Natalie really wanted to do was just hang out and have a girl’s night, and that would be a lot more comfortable at the home of her cousin than in her own cramped flat. Especially if Keira was hanging around again.
Hanging around? That wasn’t funny, but Natalie could not keep the sly smirk from creeping across her lips. The girl must have been mortified after Natalie found her in the bathroom, but that had not stopped Keira from leaving Natalie equally red-faced. She cringed inwardly at the thought. No, no reason to mar such a lovely day with those kinds of memories. Still, Natalie could not help but remember her conflicted feelings all of yesterday afternoon as she considered the invitation extended to her. Hellfire Club? What kind of nonsense was that, anyway? Google gave her all sorts of strange things, from comic book groups of supervillains to Benjamin Franklin’s sordid secrets, but results for local establishments by that name were scant. She told herself she had never really intended to go anyway, but by the time she was trying to sleep, Natalie could not help but feel a little guilty about passing it up. Whatever ‘it’ was.
Still, there would be other Fridays. Today there was sunshine and no classes, so as the autumn evening bathed the street of a nice little suburban estate in a golden glow, Natalie strolled on to her aunt’s house. No 4×4 in the driveway; good, they were on holiday again. It’d be just her and Scarlett and some movies and munchies.
Natalie used her mother’s key to unlock the front door and crept in. In the living room a TV glowed with a paused video game: Scar was apparently playing Grand Theft Auto again. Still hadn’t finished it, Natalie noticed, and the next one was due out any day now. In fact she must have been getting desperate: Natalie tutted as she spotted an open Macbook sitting on the arm of the couch. Looking up cheats?
Natalie looked closer at the laptop, finding the web browser open on a PM from some forum. It did not offer cheats or hints to help Scarlett through the game, but a peculiar set of instructions.
DARE:
1. Whatever you are wearing when you begin to read this dare, you must keep it on until the dare is complete.
2. Play a mission or level of a video game you aren’t very good at. If you fail the mission the first time, push a cake into your face.
3. Try the mission again with your face still caked. If you fail again, pour baked beans down your knickers.
4. Try the mission one last time. If you still fail, take a cold shower in all of your clothes.
Well, thought Natalie, that was rather direct. And odd. And… intriguing.
Natalie glanced around. No sign of Scarlett, but she suspected she knew exactly where her cousin would be. Natalie carefully climbed the stairs, glad of her frequent childhood visits giving her a perfect memory of each creaky floorboard. She approached the bathroom on the top landing and flung open the door.
“Oh god!” squealed Scarlett, jumping back. She had in her hands, as direct, a large cake: a plump and gooey gateaux that she almost flopped onto the floor in fright. “What are you… how did you get in?!”
“Mum’s key,” Natalie answered. She flitted her eyes around the room in feigned bewilderment. “Um, what are you doing?”
Scarlett sucked her lip, a tell Natalie had known about since the pair were tiny and trying to avoid getting the blame for knocking something over with their boisterous play. “I’m… I’m…” she stammered, taking a step back as though she were trying to retreat. Not that there was anywhere to go in this bathroom. Her heel tapped the edge of the bathroom scales nestled under the sink, and Scarlett almost gushed with relief as an inspired explanation poured from her mouth. “I’m weighing this cake.”
“What?”
“The scales, downstairs, in the kitchen, they broke,” Scarlett continued. “Dead battery I think. I just wanted to see how much it weighs so I… brought it up here.”
“Doesn’t it tell you on the box?” asked Natalie, injecting just a touch of skepticism to her tone.
The stunned stare was worth it. Natalie could see the wheels whirring as Scarlett scoured her mind for some sort of rebuttal. “I forgot what it said,” her cousin said at last. “And I already threw it out.”
“All right,” Natalie replied with a shrug. She pretended not to notice the tin of baked beans sitting so conspicuously on the shelf between the towels and the toothpaste. “Anyway I came over to see if you were interested in a girl’s night in, but looks like you’re too busy cheating at Grand Theft Auto. Still not done with it?”
Scarlett set the cake on the toilet, making a clang as she laid it down with a trembling hand. In just a pink tank top and black leggings, she could easily be cold on a September day, except this big brick house was always roasting. Natalie coolly kept an eye on her cousin, who crouched low and fumbled with the scales, her top riding up and revealing the waistband of a pair of little pink underpants.
So, this was what she had been wearing when she opened that dare, and this would be what she was probably going to get messy in. With Scarlett’s back to her, Natalie indulged herself in a smile. She had to admit to feeling a little thrill at knowing exactly what Scarlett had planned, and to see her in an outfit she had apparently resigned to a potentially messy fate.
But that fate would not occur with Natalie hanging around all evening. Not unless she took things into her own hands.
“Ch-cheating?” asked Scarlett.
“Yeah, you’ve got your laptop right next to the Xbox. Stuck on another mission?”
Natalie noticed her cousin stiffen at the mention of the word ‘laptop’. She could just imagine the fearful thoughts dashing through her mind now: Did I close the lid? Did I at least lock the screen? Oh god, did she see what was written on it?
“I was just… looking for some tips,” Scarlett said. She had already forgotten she was trying to grab the scales and simply stared at the base of the sink, as though that slender stretch of ceramic could swallow her and send her swirling down the drain. At least then she wouldn’t have to look Natalie in the eye.
Natalie had another way to help Scarlett avoid that. “Rubbish,” she said. “You’re a dirty cheater.”
“Nuh-huh!” Scarlett retorted. She rose and rounded on her cousin, still a little shaky but recovering some measure of confidence as the pair descended into the familiar bickering of pseudosiblings.
“Yuh-huh!”
“Nuh-HUH!”
“Yuh-huh, and dirty cheaters should be punished.”
Scarlett blanched. “Wh-what?”
Well, the thought was out there now, slipping off her tongue a bit faster than she had anticipated. Though her mind raced and something within her drove her to rush forward with this plan, Natalie kept a cool exterior. She slowly turned her eyes down to the cake, sitting silently on the lid of the toilet seat, and as though pulling the strings of a puppet she slowly raised her lips in a warm and mischievous smile. She looked to Scarlett, held her blue eyes for a moment, before her cousin put some puzzle pieces together and shook her blonde curls. “No…. No, no no!” she protested.
“You didn’t exactly take no for an answer at the swimming club,” Natalie reminded her.
“That was different!” Scarlett retorted. “We were in swimsuits, and it was just a bit of fun. Anyway, you didn’t exactly say no.”
“I didn’t get a chance, you all surprised me.” Natalie snapped her fingers and pointed to the cake. “And you’re still a dirty cheater.”
Natalie watched her cousin make the calculation: a little playful and private embarrassment here in her bathroom, with a close relative, might not be such a heavy price to pay to get out of this situation without completely exposing herself. She’d just have to figure out a way to get to the laptop and shut it down before Natalie really saw what was on it.
With an exaggerated sigh, Scarlett sank to her knees. She gripped the sides of the toilet bowl, tossed her head to flick some of her blonde mane out of her eyes. “All right,” she said, looking down at the cake. “Let me have it.”
“Do it yourself,” Natalie replied. “Cheaters don’t get any more help.”
“Ugh, fine,” Scar grumbled. She steeled herself, tensing her shoulders. Natalie glanced down Scarlett’s legs, saw her muscles rippled under taut spandex. Even her toes curled as she braced herself. Then… flop. She bent over, pushing her face straight into the cake.
“Bleh,” Scarlett muttered through a mouthful of cream and crumbs. She pushed herself back from the toilet and blinked up at Natalie, who could not help but laugh at the sight. Those ever-present blonde coils had not quite escaped and were now streaked with cream and strawberry sauce, while her apple-shaped face was smeared with the substances of the cake. Blue eyes sparkled as they stared dolefully out of the mess. Natalie could not help but feel a little thrill at the pleading that brimmed within them. Where had that come from?
“Well, that sucked,” Scarlett said, puffing out some crumbs and air. Her breathing grew heavier; obviously the gateaux was still chilled. Natalie wondered if the beans were as well. “You win. No more cheating, and no more swim club surprises. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Scarlett sagged to the floor, coiling her legs around herself. “Great. Could you grab me a towel?”
“The one next to the tin of beans?” Natalie asked, adding just enough emphasis to her demure enquiry to elicit a cringe from her cousin.
“Shit,” Scarlett murmured. The jig was up. Her eyes turned upwards, pleading in even more earnest, but as her breathing slowed and her legs stayed hugged against her, Scarlett clearly knew there was no escaping here. Slowly she accepted that it was not a question of if Natalie would find out what was going on, but how much she was going to rub it in. And how literally. Natalie could see it in her cousin’s baleful expression: she was doomed. DOOOOOMED.
“Stand up,” ordered Natalie, pleased and more than a little surprised as Scarlett obeyed. She grabbed the can of beans, already open, and the stench of a thin tomato sauce had already permeated the bathroom. How Scar thought she was going to get away with this, Natalie did not know. Wishful thinking, she supposed. Now Natalie made good on the dare’s second suggestion. With Scarlett standing here, head hung in shame as she awaited the inevitable, Natalie plucked the back of her cousin’s leggings and peeled them away from her bottom. Then she let go, sending them crashing into her butt with a smack.
“Oh!” Scarlett exclaimed.
“Whoops, finger slipped,” said Natalie. She gripped the waistband again, gathering up the edge of the girl’s underpants too, and pried them both away from her bare, round bottom.
Scarlett held a hand to her face, eyes clenched shut, as though not being able to see would stop it from happening.
It didn’t work; Natalie up-ended the tall tin in one swift move, dumping the entire dollop of beans and sauce down Scarlett’s underpants. She let them and the leggings snap back again, leaving a misshapen clump where a pert posterior had previously been. The seat of Scarlett’s leggings grew dark and shiny as they seeped with sauce.
“Euuugh,” said Scarlett, stamping her feet from the sensation. She clenched her fingers and pressed her arms to her sides, tensing up as though trying to trying to get away from her own skin as the lumpy slime slid down its surface. “I hate you so much,” she added, breaking into a giggle at her own strange situation. She sucked in some air, swelling her little tank top, and then let out a heavy sigh. “Let me guess, now it’s time for a cold shower?”
Natalie shook her head. Inspiration flowed now, as she watched her cousin shift and squirm uncomfortably on the spot, cake smeared across her face and hair and a hefty dollop of beans causing her sodden leggings to sag. Natalie had other plans before this poor girl was going to be allowed to shower off the shame.
“You know what goes great with cake?” Natalie asked. Before a confused Scarlett could stammer an answer, Natalie let the shoe drop. “Ice cream.”
“Ice cream?!” squealed Scarlett. “No way! Don’t you dare!”
But Natalie had already opened the door, and was heading out onto the landing.
“I’ll lock you out!” Scarlett snapped.
“Then I’ll just see what interesting things are on your laptop that I could post to Facebook,” Natalie retorted. She slipped down the stairs, feet feeling light, and did not even have to check over her shoulder whether her cousin had truly locked the bathroom. She knew that Scarlett knew there was no getting out of this. And the poor girl couldn’t even waddle her way to the living room to shut down the computer without risking a trail of tiny sauce stains all along the carpet. Scarlett was free, and yet Scarlett was utterly trapped.
When Natalie returned, she found a crestfallen Scarlett still standing in the middle of the bathroom floor, patiently awaiting her continued punishment. Scarlett’s lips were pursed and her face pinched, as she continued to try to avoid the sensations tickling her tense body. Natalie left her final surprise just outside the door and drew Scarlett’s gaze with a big bowl of ice-cream.
“Two scoops,” cooed Natalie. “Wonder where these should go.”
“You could always do with the padding,” Scarlett retorted.
Natalie let out a laugh. “Meow.” It was certainly true that she had the slimmer figure; her slightly taller cousin filled out a swimsuit with some quantity of curve, compared to Natalie’s skinny sinew. But true or not, a dig like that would cost her. Natalie dug her spoon into the bowl, pulling out a huge scoop that was still cold enough to send ghostly wisps of condensation into the warm bathroom air.
Scarlett’s eyes widened as she peered into the thin mist. She held up her hands, retreated an awkward step. “Ok, I take it back.”
Natalie stepped forward. Scarlett winced as her bean-laden butt pressed against the glass door of the shower. “Eeeh,” she groaned. “I didn’t mean it, really!”
“Yes you did,” Natalie replied. She stepped in front of her cousin, and had to admit to a thrill sending a wave of goosebumps rippling across her skin as she held her spoon out to her cornered victim. Scarlett shifted left and right, searching for any avenue to escape, leaving herself looking as though she desperately needed the bathroom. And desperate she was, panting, holding up trembling hands, shoulders already sinking in against her neck as she braced for the cold consequences of her insult.
“Fine,” she said at last, finally growing still. “I totally did mean it.” Natalie imagined the parting shot at least gave Scarlett a little sense of power, as she stood powerless in the face of inevitably growing cold and damp. Silent, Natalie reached for the neckline of her cousin’s pink cotton tanktop. She pulled it away from skin that glistened with sparse pinpricks of sweat; this house was always warm, but on an early autumn evening it seemed unlikely such thin clothing would make a girl so hot and bothered. Unless it was something else that was making Scar feel hot.
Natalie turned the spoon over. It took a moment, a quiet and heart-stopping moment, as the dollop of pale ice cream hovered over a soft bosom. Natalie thought she could see Scarlett’s heart quicken; she knew she could see the girl hold in a deep breath.
The dollop fell. Scarlett shrieked as the cold splattered onto her chest. Slowly, it streaked its way down her skin, leaving a yellow streak. Scarlett groaned and breathed again, sucking in and out swiftly as she tried to ignore the cold. The second scoop followed, joining the first in a messy mixture. Natalie let go of her tank top, letting it press back against her chest, leaving a strange shape that leaked dampness out through the thin material.
“This sucks!” Scarlett said at last. She opened the door behind her and stepped into the shower cubicle. “Maybe cold water will actually feel good compared to frickin’ ice cream.”
As the door closed again, Natalie stared for a moment. Once more she remembered that night in the swimming club, her bewilderment and sense of excited unease as her cousin sat in a box so similar to this one. Then her stomach lurched, just as it had when she was beckoned forth and found herself sat in there as well. Strange how a little chamber dedicated to one of the most basic of human functions now took on such significance. Ironic significance, as well, considering what had happened to the girls next. Wearing a swimsuit then had felt strange; it was far from the first time Natalie had been clad in strappy spandex in the shower, swimming at public baths or on the beach was quite the norm, and nobody gave much thought to rinsing off before or after. Yet somehow it seemed kind of forbidden to be dressed like that, or dressed at all, while a few gallons of sludge oozed all over and inside it. Forbidden, and somehow invited by that particular outfit. It was a swimsuit, after all, and the slop slid straight off under the spray of water. The next time Natalie had felt the slithering sensations of slime stroking her skin, she had been in a real shower, naked and completely unsuspecting of what was about to land on her. This time, she could not help but curiously consider just what it would be like to feel the weight of gunge holding down her regular clothes.
Well, time to think about these things later. Scarlett’s lesson was not yet over.
Natalie pulled open the door and proffered the rest of the supplies she found in the kitchen.
“Oh what now?” Scarlett said with a dramatic sigh. Natalie’s smile and the waggle of a brown chocolate sauce bottle and a can of squirting cream said it all. Shaking her head, Scarlett pressed her hands to the side of the tank. Shower. Whatever. She smiled with resigned mirth. “Oh go ahead, might as well finish me off.”
Natalie got to work. She shook the can and squirted thick clots of cream, adorning Scarlett’s underarms as though she were spraying deodorant. Scarlett shivered at the cold and giggled at the sensation, but gamely held her ground, letting her cousin finish the entire can as she ran the rest around her body and into the front and back of her leggings. With puffy white lumps sticking out from everywhere, Scarlett sank to her knees, allowing Natalie an easier angle to pour the sauce that slowly slicked Scarlett’s blonde curls.
“Eugh,” Scarlett sputted as the sauce steaked down her face. She rubbed her eyes and shook her head, then ran her hands through her hair to complete her coating. Matted and sticky, the clumps that had been curls were unrecognisable as her once soft and shimmering hairdo. Holding out her fingers, trying not to slip on the floor of the shower, Scarlett struggled to right herself as she regarded her slimer through a sauce-induced squint. “Thanks a lot.”
“I’ve got one surprise left,” said Natalie, beaming as she observed her handiwork. The poor girl before her must feel a frightful mess: hair plastered with sticky sauce, face smeared with chocolate and cake, her clothes flooded with gooey lumps of cream, ice-cream and baked beans. Everything was sticking to her, every move or breath must have felt so weird, and that mix of sensations and temperatures kept her mind on every bit of it at every moment. And that was just the physical feeling: she also had to deal with the fact that she was not alone. She was being put through this, by her own cousin, who was now obviously aware of Scarlett’s predilections and preferences. What had been planned as a quiet and self-indulgent afternoon had turned into a situation that would have uncomfortable consequences that lasted well beyond the feeling of a tin of beans in one’s underpants and a private if chilly shower.
Natalie may have been projecting, but she suspected not. She remembered that crushing, humbling feeling when Keira made it clear she understood what Natalie had been driving at. Apparently she understood it better than Natalie had herself. And still Natalie was not sure how she would describe it, or what she would call it, but at this moment in this bathroom she knew one thing: she was having a hell of a lot of fun.
“Oh boy,” Scarlett moaned. She let out a mock whimper, blue eyes taking on that pleading quality again as she stared out from the mix of cream and chocolate. “Please, no more!”
“This is the last of it, I promise,” Natalie replied. With Scarlett’s resigned sigh, she took her cue and slipped out of the bathroom. When she returned, she carried a squat silver pail, and devoured the visual before her as Scarlett backed into the corner of the shower and let her jaw drop.
“No!” she said, no longer demure but quite resolute. “No way!”
“What?” asked Natalie innocently. She set down the pail and pulled off the lid, like a waiter revealing a delectable dish. But there was nothing delicious in this bucket. A putrid stench wafted from it as the lid was raised. Inside was around a gallon’s worth of eggshells, coffee grounds, banana peels, rotten fruit and sundry other sludge: compost.
“NO!” squealed Scarlett. She fell to her knees, held her hands together in earnest pleading. “Not that! I’ve learned my lesson!”
Natalie raised the hefty bucket up high.
“God, no!” begged Scarlett. “That’s too much, Natalie. It’s so gross,” she added with a whine, wrinkling her nose and trying to draw back from the hovering bucket.
Natalie looked at her cousin, the normally confident and cocky head-turner reduced to a quivering, sludgy girl begging to avoid the worst. Normally she gave the guys whiplash, and she had given Natalie some very uncomfortable sensations when visiting that darn swimming club, but… she was right. Chocolate and ice-cream were one thing, but compost was probably going a bit far. Who knew if Scarlett’s clothes could be rescued from the stains of strawberry gateaux and chocolate sauce? Her underpants weren’t likely to get that seeping orange sauce out easily. But at least Scarlett had been planning on something happening to them anyway; that dare she had decided to put herself through likely would not have ended until she was shivering and sodden in the shower. And that was all fun and games, but the stench of the compost was overpowering from here, and who knew how many washings it would take to get it out of the poor girl’s golden hair?
“All right,” said Natalie, relenting. As she lowered the bucket, Scarlett sagged against the shower wall in relief.
“Thanks, Nat,” she said, beginning to breathe again.
Natalie stared at her. “What did you call me?”
Scarlett stared back. Her blue eyes widened, her mouth gaped, and that she paid for. “No, no, I didn’t—AHH!”
Natalie tipped the compost straight over Scarlett’s head. No gentle pour, no teasing with the odd slop here and there over the lip of the container; she just dumped the whole lot straight over her cousin. Gritty, mushy brown gunk coated her hair, sealing over whatever strands of blonde were left. Eggshells stuck amid the chocolate sauce, clumps of rotten fruit and unidentified nastiness were caught in its tarry texture. Stinking debris scattered everywhere, ran down Scarlett’s shirt and arms and gathered against her chest and at her feet. As a denouement, a brown banana peel plopped onto her head.
After the scream, Scarlett held her breath as long as she could. Finally, quietly, she murmured with the tension of a mouth trying not to take in any air at all. “Oh. My. GOD.”
“I told you,” said Natalie, “Don’t call me Nat. I’m not a bloody insect.”
“I hate you,” Scarlett grumbled. She sniffed a little, then seemed to regret it as her face contorted in revulsion at the awful smell trapped in the tiny shower cubicle. “You are so dead.”
CLICK
Scarlett looked up, peering from beneath a mini mountain of coffee grounds, chocolate and banana skin to see her dear, smirking cousin proudly holding a camera phone. Natalie was gratified to see Scarlett simply hang her head again, acknowledging total defeat. There would be no revenge, there would be no one-upping. Not unless she wanted her hobby and her humiliation spread across the Internet.
“Told you you’re a dirty cheater,” said Natalie.
“God…” was all Scarlett could summon, groaning as she cringed at the whole situation.
“Now you get cleaned up,” Natalie ordered, taking on the air of her aunt, Scarlett’s own mother, who all in the family thought of as having a bit of a bossy streak. Natalie gripped the cord to the side of the shower cubicle and gave it a tug; so like the tank Scarlett had dragged her into only a few weeks ago, that little external tug set of a cascade of sensation for the occupant. Scarlett screamed again; as per her dare, the water was completely cold.
