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It's another long one...


PART 5 - THE GARAGE


The next day, I realized that I'd need the garage for the weekend food fight.

I hadn't really given much thought yet as to where I'd have Michelle and Donna face off - at one point I was thinking the kitchen, or possibly even the back yard. But having been up on the stage of the Messy Club, and seen how widespread and out of control a full scale messing could get, I knew I'd need a lot of space. I spent the morning cleaning out the garage, moving everything that wasn't bolted down, then went out and bought a stack of plastic tarpaulins to cover everything else.

And with that done, I went on a massive shopping spree. Earlier in the week I'd mainly been buying things out of curiosity - would this make a good messy food? What about this stuff poured over somebody's head? - but now I attacked the supermarkets with a purpose. I drew up lists and visited wholesalers. My sketchpad continued to fill with ideas, and these grew more detailed and specific. I baked and baked and mixed and mixed. Then I'd hit the stores for more.

I'd write little scenarios in my sketchpad that had no way of being enacted by myself, Michelle and Donna, but were fun to envision anyway. Ideas would come to me out of nowhere and I'd rush to get them down on paper, whereupon I'd either expand the idea out into a little story or hit the road for some more supplies.

The dreams hadn't stopped, either. Indeed they were getting longer and even more vivid. In the one I had the night after visiting the Messy Club, myself, Donna, Michelle and Chloe were standing in a wide open field surrounded by people. There was food piled up all around us and people from the audience shouted out messy things for us to do. Soon clothing was being pulled down and shouts from the audience got more explicit. When I woke up from that one the first thing I did was write out what I could remember, ending up with nearly three pages of messy dream. After that I kept a notepad by my bed.

In the midst of all this, the manager of the Messy Club called me. I was too surprised to do more than just listen as he once again praised my performance of Tuesday night. Finally he got around to his point - they always had shifts available and would I be interested in turning up again? I told him that I was real busy right now, but I'd think about it.

When I hung up I turned my attention back to the sauces simmering on my stove. Half an hour later I'd forgotten the call entirely.

By now I was really looking forward to Saturday. I wondered what Michelle and Donna were thinking. Perhaps they'd managed to put it out of their minds, though I rather doubted it. I liked to think they were feeling a little nervous, a bit scared, but also looking forward to dishing out some treatment.

Neither of them had called since the weekend.

Finally Saturday dawned, and my activity levels went into overdrive. I spent the morning putting all the food into the garage, then lugging in some heaters, just to keep the temperature at a comfortable warm level. When I was done it was eleven o'clock, and the contest was just two hours away.

At this point I realized that I had to decide what to wear.

I went to my bedroom and stared at my wardrobe for a while, but it was an easy decision to come to. As referee/games master, I obviously couldn't upstage Michelle or Donna, so anything flashy was out. There was a fair chance I'd end up wearing food too so I couldn't wear anything I really liked. In the end I selected a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. I stripped down and tried them on, and I looked like a jogger about to set off on a 5 a.m. run. It'd do. I added sweatbands around my wrists and forehead so that I'd look like a sporting coach, and that worked too.

I started to take off my clothes so I could put on some underwear, but paused. Was there really any point in adding to the number of messy clothes I'd have to clean? And the idea of going commando was such a naughty one it seemed to fit into today's theme perfectly. I kept my clothes the way they were and walked back out into the living room.

It was nearly noon. I got a drink to soothe my nerves and waited on the sofa. I could hear the ticking of the clock. After a while a little internal monologue started up: they're not turning up, they're not turning up, they didn't call because they hate you, they're not turning up...

The doorbell rang at 12:55. I set my drink down, gathered my composure, and went to the front door.

Michelle stood there, one hand on hip, staring straight at me.

I'll just take a moment here to describe what she was wearing, as it so stunned me I couldn't say anything for a couple of seconds. She looked like a sexy young executive who'd just stepped out of a Penthouse Forum letter. She wore black high heels and sheer black stockings, running up to a tight black miniskirt so short that the tops of her stockings were visible. They were hanging from suspenders. The miniskirt was slit at the side, the slits coming as high as her pubic bone. She was practically wearing a loincloth.

Above the waist, she was wearing a white silk shirt tucked into the miniskirt, with a plunging neckline that ended a couple of inches above her navel. On top of the shirt she had a black business jacket, which fit snugly around her arms and was maybe a touch short at the waist. Her hair was immaculately coiffed, and her face had been given the full makeup treatment.

For the final insolent touch, she was wearing a striped tie, knotted loosely around her neck and hanging freely down, as if she was Avril Lavigne.

This outfit made an aggressive statement.

It said: My body looks like this.

I have the self confidence to display my body this way. Are you flashing this much cleavage and thigh? Didn't think so.

These clothes look expensive. Guess what? I can afford for them to be ruined.

Goodness knew what Donna would think when she saw her. Hell, Michelle was intimidating me.

"Wow! You've gone to some effort," I said at last. "Come on in!"

Michelle walked past without a word and I shut the door. Heaven only knew what the neighbors were thinking...

"You look like you've come here for a photo shoot," I said as I led her down the hall.

"Well, you did say we should wear our best clothes," said Michelle.

We entered the living area. Things got tense because Michelle didn't want to sit down in what she was wearing, and I couldn't think of anything to say. Michelle had this look of steely determination on her face that made me feel like an idiot for even attempting some polite small talk.

"I'm sure she'll be here any minute," I said to cover the silence.

"I have my doubts," said Michelle, staring out the window. "What's the contest going to be like?"

"Mainly trivia."

"And what are we going to be messing each other with? Pies? Water bombs? There better not be wrestling involved."

"That bit's a surprise. Say, can I get you a drink?"

"No thanks. So are we going to be standing still while the other does something to us, or is it a free-for-all, or what?"

"Uhm... maybe we should save this discussion for when Donna gets here."

Michelle smirked. For a moment I thought she was smirking at me, then I saw where she was looking and realized Donna had shown up. I ran to the front door just in time to hear the doorbell.

Donna's outfit left me just as speechless as Michelle's, though for rather different reason.

She looked like the bride at a wedding. She wore a strapless bridal dress, full and ruffled at the shoulders, lacy across the top of the chest, with embroidered lace patterns all down the front. On her arms she had elbow-length white gloves.

Her feet were hidden behind the dress, but as she took a step forward I saw she had on white pumps and white stockings.

And the final insanity, she had white flowers in her hair.

This was an even less appropriate outfit to wear to a messy event than Michelle's. Those clothes were going to be ruined. But at the same time I could see what Donna was getting at. The white clothes, the innocent bride look - Donna was clothing herself in virtue.

Her clothes were a statement on her behavior, just as Michelle's clothes were a statement on her behavior. This was a direct challenge to Michelle.

And besides, I had to admit that Donna did look great.

"Who's the groom?" I said, then clamped my mouth shut. Of all the stupid things to say...

Donna barely heard me. She didn't have Michelle self confidence - she looked totally petrified. "This is a mistake," she said.

"Nonsense," I said. "Besides, Michelle's already here, and you don't want to back down in front of her, do you?"

Sure enough this worked, and I led her inside, taking one last look at the surrounding houses. Nobody appeared to be watching, but I was sure I would be hearing about this for weeks to come.

I took her down the hall to the living room, where Michelle was waiting. Donna's eyes went wide when she saw Michelle's outfit, then they narrowed, as if she'd expected Michelle to slut up for the occasion. Michelle for her part just returned the same flinty stare she'd had ever since stepping through the front door.

Neither of them said a word.

"Okay, looks like you're both raring to go," I said brightly. "Let's start this." I walked back through the house, not bothering to check if they followed me. When I got to the garage I stepped to one side and waited for them.

I was pretty sure they'd be surprised by what they saw. Everything in the garage was covered in plastic tarp - walls, floor, even the ceiling. There were a number of bulky objects littering the floor, all which were also covered by plastic tarp. I was happy for them to assume these were just normal garage objects, because the tarp was actually my way of keeping all the various rounds of the contest a surprise.

With all this plastic sheeting the room looked like it had been prepped for some very hefty, very extensive messing.

Michelle stepped through the doorway first, then Donna a second later. You could see on their faces that they were just now getting an idea of what was in store for them, and they didn't like it one bit.

I pulled them into the room and got them standing where I wanted - facing each other, feet three yards apart. Then I turned to the plastic tarp behind me and pulled it up, revealing a wooden table laden with twelve meringue pies.

The meringue was just egg white, with no crust or filling, but they weren't to know that. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Donna shift her weight nervously.

"Okay, the rules," I said, now that I knew I had their attention. "I'm going to ask each of you questions in turn. If you get the question right, you get to throw a pie at the other player. If you get it wrong, they get to throw one at you. If you step outside the rules in any way, you pay a forfeit. And rest assured, they will be big."

Neither of them said anything. They both looked impatient and agitated now, just waiting for me to shut up so they could get this over with.

"Now you both know why we're here. I've done this because you two will not stop fighting, and I'm at my wits end trying to preserve this relationship. So I should ask this before we begin - are you willing to forgive each other yet."

"No chance in hell," said Donna.

Michelle just laughed, whether at me or Donna I wasn't exactly sure.

"Okay," I said. "Time for round 1." I pulled some cards out of my pocket. "General trivia, any subject. Michelle, you're first."

Michelle nodded, staring at Donna.

"How old is Mark?"

Michelle started to say something, then thought for a bit. "31?"

"Wrong. 30." I handed a pie to Donna. She smiled, weighted the pie in her right hand, then tossed it at Michelle with almost a shotputter action.

Michelle didn't flinch or try and dodge the pie. It tumbled weakly through the air, only just managing to graze Michelle's right arm, leaving white splotches of meringue on her jacket.

"Donna, next question. Which planet in our Solar System is named after the Roman god of the sea?"

Donna thought for a few seconds. "Neptune?"

"Correct!" I gave her another pie. Donna looked determined to make up for her last throw, and this one moved smoothly and accurately through the air, landing with a fair whack on Michelle's right chest. A large mass of meringue stuck there, coating her jacket and the middle of her shirt. Again, Michelle didn't react, but after a few seconds had passed, she glared and brushed the aluminium pie shell off her body.

Donna was grinning, eager for another throw.

"Back to you, Michelle. What was the number of the Beatles 'Revolution'?"

"Nine," Michelle answered instantly. I nodded and gave her a pie. She held it in her hand and regarded Donna's outfit critically. Then she hurled it at her midsection. Little globs of meringue flew out and coated Donna's front, but the pie itself spun so that it was the aluminium shell that finally hit Donna's dress. The pie dropped and splatted on the plastic floor.

You couldn't see the meringue very clearly against the white of Donna's dress. Donna stuck her tongue out at Michelle.

"Now, Donna. What make and model of car did Mark drive?"

She answered immediately, "Subaru Forester."

"That's right." Donna's pie toss was much like her last, and hit Michelle in almost the same place - just a bit higher, on her right shoulder. The meringue was starting to build up in a thick shelf over her breast.

"Michelle, your turn. What are the names of Donna's pets?"

Taking her time with the answer, Michelle said, "Pasty... Greg... and Molly."

She was right, and I gave her the next pie. Michelle had been paying attention, and this throw was much less wild than her last. Unfortunately for her however, she still hadn't worked out how to spin the pies - her pie struck Donna flush in the face, pie shell first. Again the meringue tumbled down, some catching her dress on the way down but most splatting on the floor. Donna rubbed her nose, which had reddened from the pie hit.

"Donna. What is the capital of Scotland?"

Donna thought this one over for a bit. "Glasgow?" she guessed.

"Wrong, Edinburgh. Michelle, your shot."

Michelle took the pie from my hands and glared at Donna. She threw the pie at her body, and this one hit her right way round, the meringue striking her dress just below the groin. Donna grimaced a little as she looked down at the mass of meringue clinging to her dress.

"Michelle, your question. Is the bow of the ship the front or the back?"

This one stumped Michelle for a bit. "The front," she said at last.

"That's right." Michelle had a nasty grin on her face as she took the pie, and immediately she threw it at Donna's head. The force was far too great though, and it flew high, splatting against the wall behind her.

"Now your question, Donna. Who wrote 'A Tale of Two Cities'?"

"Charles Dickens." Donna was already comfortable with her pie throwing motion, and this one struck Michelle on her left thigh. Meringue splatted her knee and the bottom hem of her miniskirt. Michelle gritted her teeth.

"Your turn Michelle. As of last month, how much did Mark make per year? Accurate to within five thousand, thanks."

Michelle gave me this evil look, like, what are you trying to prove with these Mark-specific questions? But she thought for a bit, and said "Forty-eight thousand a year."

"Close enough, fifty thousand. Your pie." Again, Michelle went for a wild throw at Donna's head. Again, she missed. The pie flew past Donna and splatted against the wall.

Some color had risen in Michelle's face. She was breathing harder and her glare could peel paint.

"Looks like your throwing arm needs a little work," quipped Donna.

"My pulling arm's a lot better," Michelle shot back.

Donna smiled sweetly at her. I can ignore your insults, I'm winning...

Donna's next question was also Mark-specific. "How many moles does Mark have on his back?"

She didn't have to think long. "Two." I handed her the pie, and Donna held onto this one a bit longer, as if how contemplating how best to punish Michelle for her attitude.

The throw was a beauty. It flew flat and fast through the air, splatting with an audible slap against Michelle's chin and throat. Little dots of meringue landed on her shoulders, her face and nose, even in her hair. Meanwhile the mass of meringue on her neck slowly slid down, coming to rest at her collarbone.

Michelle's mouth opened and she looked down at herself. Meringue covered most of her right side, and one of her legs. Then she wiped her face with one hand, and glared at Donna.

The mess on her clothes, the frustration of her missed shots, these questions about Mark... all of a sudden she took matters into her own hands, strode straight past me, picked up the last two pies and rushed Donna. Before Donna could even retreat a step Michelle had planted both pies squarely on her chest. Meringue splatted against the top of her dress and her pale skin.

Michelle stepped back, eyes glowing. Donna cringed from her, visibly upset.

Before anything else could happen, I moved between them. "Michelle - back where you were," I said sharply. Michelle did so, a satisfied smile on her face. I looked at Donna, and saw she was brushing meringue off her chest, and sighing with distaste at the meringue ending up on her gloved hands as a result.

I stepped back from between them. "We calm now? Okay. Michelle, you stepped out of turn. As we agreed earlier, you have to pay a forfeit. Which I will now administer."

Michelle didn't say anything, just stood and watched as I reached under the table and pulled out a bucket. It held out the bucket to them both - it was full to the brim with meringue.

"Stay as still as a statue," I said to Michelle. Maybe she didn't know immediately what I was going to do with the meringue, but I think she knew then. And now I felt more nervous than I had all day. They were going to guess there was more to this day than just trying to patch things up between friends. They were going to call me a freak...

Michelle held still as I raised the bucket up high. I turned it over in the air and slowly lowered it down over her head. Michelle's expression didn't change. At the last moment she shut her eyes.

Meringue flattened down her hair, and then I pushed the bucket right down, plastic rim knocking against her shoulders. Some globs of meringue detached themselves from the bucket and spattered her jacket and shirt.

Donna's mouth was a wide 'O'.

I left the bucket where it was for a second then lifted it smoothly up. For a moment all you could see was a white block of meringue, then it sagged and fell apart and you could see Michelle's head again. Meringue blew out from her mouth as she breathed out. Her hair was almost completely covered in the white mixture, her eyes invisible. Michelle lifted her hands and wiped her brow clean, and blinked her eyes open. She did the same for her nose and mouth.

Meringue fell from her head continuously as she did this. She now had a trail of white marshmallowy globs down her front, so that it almost looked like she was wearing a checked jacket. Some meringue slid down her skin between her breasts.

Michelle shook her head, sending more globs of meringue flying out in a little shower that coated her shoulders and arms and the floor.

My heart was in my mouth - how were these two going to react to what I had just done?

I snuck a look at Donna and was relieved to see a furtive grin on her face.

Michelle sighed, and I could hear in the sigh that she could see the humor in the situation.

And then I knew that I had them both.

"You've done quite a lot of preparation for this," said Michelle.

"It's only because I value our friendship," I said. "Now, ready for round 2?"

Michelle and Donna both nodded.

"This one's a lot simpler. I've got a list of foodstuffs under the plastic tarp behind me, and a coin. Heads means the person gets messed with the food, tails means they're clear. If you're getting messed, the person doing it will be the other contestant, and they can apply the food however they wish. We play through until all the food has been used. And since Michelle got the brunt of the pies last round, Donna, you're first."

I took the coin from my pocket, flipped it, and caught it again. Slapping the coin down on my arm, I kept them in suspense for a moment, then said, "Sorry, Donna, but it's heads." I reached behind me and pulled out a jar of peanut butter.

"Huh?" said Donna, not sure how this was going to work. But Michelle already had the jar in her hands and was walking over. The contrast of Donna, mostly clean, standing next to Michelle, black and white and covered in meringue, almost made me start giggling.

Michelle just stood there, looking at Donna with a toothy grin on her face. Then she said, "take off your shoes."

"My shoes?" said Donna uncertainly.

"Do it."

Slowly, one by one she lifted her feet and lifted the pumps out from under her dress. Then Michelle knelt down in front of them, opened the jar, and scooped out a handful of peanut butter.

As Donna grimaced, Michelle smeared the butter all over the insides of her shoes. She completely filled the toes, and smeared a little over the outside, just to ruin them more.

"Put them on," she said.

Looking unhappy, Donna nonetheless gingerly stepped back into her shoes, squicking her eyes closed as she did so. I heard the squelch as peanut butter oozed out around her ankles. Donna whined softly.

Michelle still had some peanut butter left over, and she scooped it all up in one hand. Slowly, taking pleasure in the fact that Donna had to stand there and take whatever she did, Michelle raised her hand up over Donna's head and dropped the peanut butter in her hair.

Then she pushed her hand down and started rubbing the peanut butter through her hair. Donna squealed, and glared daggers at her. Michelle just kept on brushing through her hair, rubbing the peanut butter from the tips to the roots. The flowers in her hair likewise didn't escape the treatment, and were soon ragged little balls.

"You bitch," said Donna.

"Relax, it's good for the hair," said Michelle. "Anyway, you'll be getting your turn." She stepped back from Donna, whose hair now looked like she'd been dipping her head in mud.

Both of them were waiting for the next coin toss. It came up tails. Michelle smirked. The next toss was Donna's, and it was heads.

Donna grumbled under her breath as I reached for the next foodstuff. It was a bottle of tomato sauce. Michelle popped the cap and looked at Donna again. What to do this time...?

"Hold out your arms," she said. Donna held her arms out straight from her body, and Michelle poured the tomato sauce over her pristine white gloves. Sauce gushed out over her forearms, dripping from her elbows and fingers. Donna now looked like she'd stepped straight from the set of a gory horror movie. More than that, she looked like she was about to cry.

Michelle used up all the sauce on her arms, using the last drops to make narrow lines up her biceps, splattering the shoulder of her dress. Then she tossed the bottle aside and awaited the next toss.

I tossed. "Okay Michelle, it's... tails."

I looked at Donna, who tensed, and tossed again. "And Donna... tails."

Back to Michelle. One more toss. "And Michelle... heads."

I reached into the plastic tarp behind me, and pulled out a large bowl of porridge. Quantity wise, this far outweighed anything Michelle had been given so far, and as a little decorative touch I'd put a swirl of honey on the top.

Donna's eyes lit up at the sight of the porridge, and she practically snatched it from my hands. She smiled at Michelle, looking over her body and wondering where this should go.

"Turn around," she said eventually. Michelle did so, not even bothering to look back behind her. "And tilt yourself forward a bit." Again Michelle wordlessly complied. I wondered where Donna was going with this.

"Hmmm... you know, black really isn't your color," she said, then poured the porridge out over Michelle's jacket. Donna was too eager for a patient and methodical coating of the black jacket, and the porridge splatted in a wet round mass near the top of Michelle's spine, before gravity slowly pulled it downward. Michelle's jacket sagged with the weight, bunching up at her shoulders. Donna had more porridge left, so she poured it over the shoulders, then coated all the empty spaces at her waist. Soon the back of Michelle's jacket was a dripping, white, oat-flecked mess, and still Donna had a little left over. She picked up a handful and tossed it against Michelle's ass, the porridge slapping against her black skirt. I almost expected Michelle to snap at this, but she stoically remained motionless. Donna gathered up the last of the porridge and again splatted it over her ass. Then she was handing me the bowl, with a very loud "Thanks."

The next coin toss was for Donna, and it came up tails. Michelle had turned around now, and I was very impressed with her self control. Her facial expression had barely changed.

Unfortunately for Michelle, her next coin toss came up heads. I gave Donna a big bowl of spaghetti and pasta sauce. She was so excited she didn't wait and look for a good spot to mess Michelle. She didn't even walk over so she could pour it over her. The moment the bowl was in her hands Donna just tossed it at Michelle, spaghetti and tomato sauce splatting all over her front.

The warm sauce stained her jacket, her shirt, and coated every inch of visible skin between her breasts and under her chin. Spaghetti clung to her jacket and ran down her skirt. It was like she was wearing a carpet of pasta. Bits of sauce and spaghetti dropped down, spattering her stockinged legs. It seemed like I could hear every drop, every slither of spaghetti.

Michelle's mouth opened at the impact, and now for the first time I saw real anger on her face. "I'll get payback, don't worry about that," she spat at Donna.

"What do you mean, payback?" said Donna. "You were ahead before today. I'm just getting even."

And inwardly, I just had to smile. Things were going perfect. Even though I was the ringmaster, neither of them were focusing their anger on me, they were so caught up in their hatred for each other. I'd be able to push things a long way today...

"All right, next coin toss for Donna," I said. It came down heads, but I noticed that Donna didn't tense this time. She was in the fight for keeps now.

The general idea was that the foodstuffs would get heftier and messier, and so I handed Michelle a bowl of white cake batter. She was already eyeing up Donna.

"Well, this is a problem," she said eventually. "You're already wearing white, and I want good value for this mess."

They were staring each other directly in the eyes, and I got the feeling Donna already knew what Michelle was planning to do. I didn't have a clue.

Michelle took two steps toward Donna, then shifted the bowl of batter to one hand only. With the other she pulled out the top of Donna's dress, and then she dumped the batter inside. Cake batter is not very liquid, and takes a fair time to pour from a bowl. But Donna didn't move, didn't even make a noise of protest as Michelle kept on pouring in the batter.

Donna's dress now began to sag heavily around her waist and groin. Combined with Michelle having pulled the top out from her body I could see a fair bit of Donna's breasts, and I found myself wondering what precisely she was wearing beneath the wedding dress. The cake batter was hitting her skin right between her breasts, and flowed down in a wide slow moving river of flour and water.

I could hear batter dripping onto the floor, though her dress hid it.

The atmosphere was electric. Michelle and Donna continued to stare directly into each other's eyes. They were both smiling, but they weren't friendly smiles.

It seemed to me a least a minute passed, Donna's dress getting steadily heavier and more bedraggled. Eventually the last cake batter dripped out, and Michelle let go her dress and walked back to her position.

Donna didn't lift a hand to adjust her clothes, even though her dress had slipped an inch down her body. The fabric, particularly at her groin and thighs, was less billowy and clung to her body more.

The next coin toss was for Michelle. "Tails," I said. Michelle and Donna stared at each other and I felt like I was being forgotten.

The next toss, however, was heads. I reached under the plastic and gave Michelle an enormous gallon bottle of chocolate syrup. She didn't take much time sizing Donna up before saying, "Turn around. Bend over."

Donna wordlessly turned around and copied Michelle's pose from earlier.

"More."

Donna bent over more, so her upper body was almost horizontal. Her butt stuck up sharply.

Sure enough, Michelle poured the chocolate syrup out over her ass. There was so much in the bottle that she didn't have to worry about doing it slowly, and the syrup gushed down like water, immediately plastering her dress tightly over her skin. Michelle moved the bottle from left to right, watching the syrup as it ran down the back of her dress from her ass to her feet. Some of the syrup dripped down between her legs and made spot stains on the front of her dress, and I could see it slowly spreading on the floor.

When Michelle was done almost all of the lower back half of Donna's dress was soaking in chocolate syrup. The dress clung in a very shapely fashion to her ass. Again I speculated as to what Donna was wearing beneath the dress. She must be as sticky as hell down there.

Michelle tossed the bottle aside, and Donna straightened up, immediately ready for the next round. Still they stared at each other, smiling.

The next coin toss, Michelle's, was another head. I gave Donna a similarly sized bottle, this one full of raspberry syrup. Donna held onto it a little longer this time, presumably because she didn't want to copy what Michelle had just done. Chocolate syrup still dripped from her dress and down her legs.

"Okay, turn around," she said to Michelle. "Stay straight." She reached out, hooked two fingers into Michelle's porridge-laden jacket, and pulled both it and the collar of her shirt away from the skin. She dumped the raspberry syrup down the gap, against the bare skin of her back.

You could see the syrup tumbling down her back in the motion made by her jacket and shirt. Little red trails leaked out around her waist, spilled over her skirt, and ran down her legs. It splatted on the ground in another steadily expanding pool. Donna moved the bottle from side to side, doing her best to pour the syrup down her shoulders, but the majority coursed down Michelle's spine.

When it was done Michelle's skirts sagged a bit, and her jacket looked even more sodden and the worse for wear. Her legs were coated quite smoothly in red syrup.

It was Donna's turn next, and again I tossed heads. I gave Michelle a bowl full to the brim with melted ice cream. Without hesitation she dumped it over Donna's head.

Donna gasped with shock, the look of outrage returning faintly to her face. The ice cream changed the look of her face in an instant, turning her hair into a creamy fright wig, soaking every inch of her face, running down her neck and chest in white streams. I hadn't had that ice-cream out of the freezer long and no doubt it was still pretty cold. Her skin was sticking up in goosebumps and I could hear her breathing getting faster.

The next coin toss was for Michelle, and I called it heads. Actually it was tails but I had long since stopped worrying about the integrity of this contest, and both of them were too preoccupied to notice anyway. I handed Donna a bottle of maple syrup.

Donna smiled sweetly at Michelle and stepped in front of her. I could see her dander was really up this time. The expression on her face never changing, Donna stared at Michelle as her free hand reached out and pulled open Michelle's skirt, revealing her black lace panties.

"Oh, this is really too much," said Michelle contemptuously. But she didn't try to stop Donna.

Donna upended the bottle and poured it inside Michelle's skirt. She was still looking at Michelle as she did this, so the syrup ran down the inside of her skirt or dripped directly onto the floor. But she moved the bottle closer to Michelle's body and soon the syrup was pouring directly over her panties. Donna moved the nozzle left to right, coating her waist, then squeezed her hand hard and pushed a heavy mass of syrup out over the panties, making a glistening sweet oval above her genitals. By now she'd about covered Michelle's panties in syrup so she returned her attention to the skirt, holding it inside out and covering the inside with syrup. When the last syrup was squeezed out, Michelle's skirt was sagging over Donna's hand. It was obviously too heavy to snap back against Michelle's waist, so Donna pressed it back into place, pushing her hand up and down the skirt so the syrup would stick to her groin and her thighs.

Donna stepped back, and neither of them said a word. It didn't feel to me like either of them was enjoying being messed, but they obviously liked being the messer.

The next coin toss was Donna's, and I wasn't about to gyp Michelle out of the next messing. I called it heads again, and gave Michelle a large plastic bowl full of baked beans.

Michelle held them for a second, as if thinking of something extra devious to do with them, then shrugged and just tossed them over Donna. Beans splatted down her front, leaving red trails from shoulder to toe. The mess pushed her dress further against her body, and Donna's breasts were slowly gaining extra definition. Donna just stood there, hardly even reacting. That the best you got? her body language seemed to say.

And I just had to take a moment to look at them both. Fifteen minutes earlier, both of them had been standing in my living room, neat and tidy and immaculate. Now their clothes were wet and bedraggled, hanging loosely on their bodies. Their skin glistened with syrup or sported sauce stains.

They didn't care. The thrill of not just seeing each other humiliated, but being the active agent of that humiliation - they just didn't care if they got messed back as a result. I could see they both wanted to dish out more.

"Okay, that's the last of them," I said. For the first time in several minutes they seemed to remember I was here. "Now, I asked this before and I'll ask it again: are you two willing to forgive each other?"

"I can forgive her once she stops being so melodramatic and confrontational," said Michelle. She brushed at a bit of pasta in her cleavage.

"I can't forgive her for spoiling my relationship," said Donna.

"You two did not get on well together!" said Michelle. "It was going to end."

"Doesn't matter," said Donna. "You know how little time I've spent in relationships. A bad one is better than nothing."

I waited for a response to this from Michelle, but she was silent. "Very well," I said. "Onto round 3!"

I pulled down the plastic from one wall, and behind it hung a cardboard spinning wheel I'd made the day before. Around the rim, written in permanent marker, were various body parts: head, arms, feet, butt, boobs.

While Michelle and Donna digested that, I lifted up another bit of plastic and lugged a big, fifty-litre bucket out between them. Orange liquid sloshed out over the sides and stained my hands. The bucket was full to the brim with pumpkin soup.

Michelle and Donna looked at me, waiting for me to explain further. Both of them looked eager and keyed up. I almost felt guilty standing there clean - my hands had some soup and syrup on them, and I'd wiped them on my pants a few times, but that was pretty much it. I was starting to feel left out.

"We're going to spin this wheel four times," I said. "Twice for each of you. Whatever body part it lands on - you'll have to stick it in the bucket. All the way in. And yes, if you haven't guessed it yet that's pumpkin soup in there. Michelle, you're up first again. Care to give it a spin?"

I stepped back out of her way as she crossed the tarp-covered floor. She spun the wheel with one sticky hand, and it made three wobbly revolutions before landing on feet.

Michelle pursed her lips, no doubt figuring it could have been worse, and stepped into the bucket.

The rim came up to her knees. Some of the soup sloshed over the edge and ran across the floor. One rivulet ran under my feet and I felt the rather pleasurable sensation of soup running between my toes.

Michelle stood there, a triumphant grin on her face, while Donna looked disappointed. When she stepped out again it was like she'd put on a pair of orange knee-length socks, and given her black shoes a new paint job. Every inch of her calves was orange.

"Easy enough," she said.

Now it was Donna's turn. She stepped forward without me having to say a word, put her hand on the now food-stained wheel, and gave it a vigorous tug.

The wheel, already unbalanced, turned around one and a half times, and finished on boobs.

Audrey looked questioningly at me. "So how am I-"

"Just push them in," I said.

"All the way," added Michelle.

"Yes, all the way."

Donna looked at me a little longer before turning around and standing in front of the bucket. She knelt down, her syrup and batter stained dress now soaking up the soup, and gripped the sides of the bucket with her saucy gloved hands. Slowly she lowered her chest.

Already wet from the earlier messings, the front of her dress now clung quite revealingly to her chest and so I could see quite clearly her breasts hanging down, gravity giving them an even fuller shape. Her nipples dipped into the soup and as her breasts followed them in the level of pumpkin soup sharply rose.

She kept pushing down until her back arched. Soup ran down the sides of the bucket, and her chocolate-covered butt stuck out sharply.

As she bent up and then straightened, a flood of pumpkin soup ran down her front, splashing loudly on the floor. Her dress was nearly unrecognizable now - it was like a ragged sheet that had been attacked by a crowd of toddlers armed with tins of paint. Apart from some of the ruffles at her shoulder, it had entirely lost its shape. Her orange-coated breasts stood out from her chest in sharp relief. I saw the inward dip of her crotch outlined clearly in the fabric. Somehow the dress must have shrunk too, as I could see her feet and ankles below the dripping hem.

Donna was looking down at herself, as if noticing the damage for the first time. She plucked the fabric of her dress between finger and thumb and squeezed it. Soup dripped out.

I took a look in the bucket - the soup level had dropped several inches.

The room was really starting to smell now. The air felt like there were droplets suspended in it. We were all starting to sweat.

The next spin was Michelle's, and after a woeful tug that barely moved the wheel through a full revolution, the pointer finished up over 'butt'.

Donna snickered. Michelle winced.

"Just lower yourself in," I said. "All the way."

Michelle sighed, pursed her lips, and stood over the bucket. She bent down and grabbed the sides of the bucket with her hands, and gently lowered her ass in. Her drooping skirt dipped in, and as her butt moved below the surface once again displacement of mass shot the soup level upward. It quickly rose over her skirt and her lap disappeared beneath the soup.

"Till you hit bottom," I added.

Soup was pouring over the rim of the bucket in a massive flood now. Michelle wriggled down further, butt moving from left to right, arms flexing as her legs pulled inward and up. The bucket was wide enough that she could draw herself fully into it, and by now the soup was halfway up her thighs and brushing the underside of her breasts. Michelle wriggled around a little more, sending more and more soup sheeting across the floor, and when she was done the soup was at the level of her nipples, and almost to her knees.

Michelle sat there, a wry smile on her face. Donna was practically dancing around with glee.

"Not bad," I said. "You take gymnastics at school?"

Michelle didn't dignify this with a response. With a certain amount of difficulty she wriggled up from the bucket. After some determined huffing and puffing, squelching and splashing, she was upright again. Soup rained down on the floor, though most of it seemed to be sticking right where it was. She looked totally different. It was as if someone had seized her by the head, dipped her in orange paint to the level of her boobs, and just seconds ago pulled her free. Her jacket was practically hanging free from her shoulders. Her shirt clung to her skin, semitransparent. Her skirt had slipped several inches down her thighs, and I could see the outline of her black panties beneath the soup.

And she didn't even try to adjust her clothing. For that matter, Donna hadn't tried to pull up her dress, or wring out her hair. Maybe both of them felt guilty for the damage they'd done our friendship. Maybe they didn't just see this event as revenge, but as just punishment.

Of course, you couldn't see any guilt on Donna's gleeful face at the moment. She dashed over and gave a wheel a spin.

It landed on 'head'. Michelle laughed out loud, and I could almost see Donna swallow.

She looked uncertain, but didn't say anything. She was getting her courage at this now.

"To the neck level is fine," I said. "You might want to pinch your nose shut."

She nodded, and pinched forefinger and thumb around her nose. Holding it shut, she stepped in front of the bucket, and knelt. Her knees squelched in the soup. She leant over the bucket, peanut butter smeared and ice-cream dripping hair brushing the soup, then floating on the surface as she slowly lowered her head.

The top of her head went under and she continued the slow descent, soup rising up her hair.

When the level was up around her forehead, she seemed to make up her mind and quickly ducked her head under.

Almost immediately she pulled it out again. Soup sprayed out as she jerked her head back, drops flying from her hair and spattering on Michelle and I. Neither of us could complain though, as we were mesmerized in the change to Donna's appearance.

Her head looked like it had been dipped in liquid clay. Her hair dripped pumpkin soup like it was a showerhead. She was spitting and gasping for air, brushing at her nose and trying to blow the soup out. Her shoulders were running wet with soup. Orange flowed down her body like someone was drawing down a curtain. Within seconds hardly any part of her didn't have at least a spot of orange in it.

Michelle was laughing at her, but I heard a new note in it. This wasn't the mean, vindictive laughter she'd be giving Donna earlier. Now there was genuine warmth and affection in it. And I couldn't blame her, because Donna looked so cute just then, like an unlucky drowned rat. I felt like laughing myself. Both my feet were half submerged in pumpkin soup. The atmosphere in here felt playful and fun.

"Well done, both of you," I said. "Now I'll ask that question again... are you willing to forgive each other yet?"

With the current mood in the room, I was expecting them to say Yes. But they surprised me.

"Not yet," Michelle said simply. And her words were directed more at me than Donna. They said: what else you got to throw at us?

"She has to say sorry," said Donna, in that same half-distracted voice. Neither of them sounded angry.

This all looked pretty hopeful to me. They were more or less ready to forgive each other by now, they just needed a little extra push...

Then it occurred to me that maybe they'd already forgiven each other, implicitly. These two certainly didn't look like enemies right now. They weren't saying anything yet because they were more interested in getting messy.

They were going to let me go further. My heart starting beating harder.

"All right then, round 4. But first..."

I pointed at the bucket. "We need to dispose of the rest of this soup. The bucket's still half full, and it's going over one of you."

Okay, I thought to myself, if they're full friends again, they'll gang up on me and pour it on me. The idea - thrilling, scary - made my heart beat and my limbs weak.

It didn't happen.

Unexpectedly, what did happen was Michelle saying, "Over me."

I didn't understand her at first. "Huh?" was all I could say.

"Over me," she repeated. "Come on, I can take it."

"I was going to suggest-"

"Just do it already," she said impatiently.

"Okay, okay," I said. "Donna, you'll have to help me lift this up."

Donna joined me at the bucket and together we lifted it up. This was the first time I'd really been close to Donna since she started getting messy. She smelled pungent and sweet, with just the tart sauce tugging at the nostrils.

With a bit more grunting and heaving we lifted the bucket up over our shoulders. Small quantities of pumpkin soup were trickling down my arm and splatting on my sweatshirt but I ignored them. Donna's side brushed mine and that side of my body got sticky and damp. Michelle stood still, watching us with a smile on her face, one arm propped against her waist.

We lifted the bucket high as we could over her face, till we were standing on the tips of our toes. "Ready?" I said. "One... two... three!"

Together we tipped the bucket forward.

Pumpkin soup gushed out in a massive torrent. Just the weight of it pushed Michelle's head back. One arm of her jacket slid off her shoulder and her whole upper body was soaked to the skin in a flash. Soup splashed off her head, from her arms and legs, and up from the pools of pumpkin soup on the floor. I could feel it dotting my legs.

Every inch of Michelle was orange. The gap her shirt made between

her breasts had widened dramatically, and her nipples were clearly visible through the white fabric. Her jacket looked like it was going to fall off any second. Her skirt was halfway down her thighs.

Michelle grinned, the whites of her teeth showing. "See. That was nothing." She flung an arm out to demonstrate, and pumpkin soup sprayed out.

I could feel the bottoms of my sweatpants starting to get heavy with the soup accumulating on them. The fabric felt wet when it brushed against my skin. My sweatbands were getting tight around the wrists, damp and swollen with pumpkin soup.

I felt sure both of them would welcome a sudden three-way wrestle in the soup puddled on the floor. And I ached to do it. But I knew I could push this further.

"I should point out, incidentally, that there's a showerhead outside," I said, pointing to a door at the back of the garage. "It's just round the side. The fence is quite high, so nobody'll be able to see." Both Michelle and Donna looked distinctly underwhelmed by this revelation.

"Now, as I was saying," I continued, "Round 4."

I returned to the table, and pulled another sheet of plastic tarp from the far end. Underneath it were eight pies. Not meringue pies, like we'd used earlier, but rich, full pies - filling, pastry, frosting, piled up six inches high, in shells a foot wide. Genuine bakery pies. I'd bought them a couple of days ago, going to several places to get as many different flavors as I could.

They looked weighty and dangerous, like they'd pack a punch when they hit.

"Okay, same as round 1, it's trivia questions," I said. "These pies aren't going to fly through the air as easily as the meringue ones did, so you'll have to plant them directly on your opponent. Who isn't allowed to move or resist. And you're allowed to make them position themselves any way you want. All clear?"

They nodded.

"All right. Michelle, you may as well go first since you volunteered for the bucket. Here it is: Where does Mark work?"

"At Hyatt and Sullivans, on Portland Avenue," said Michelle without hesitation.

"Correct!" I reached for the nearest pie, which was banana cream. There were yellow drizzles of syrup on the cream, and pieces of banana dotting the surface.

Michelle accepted the pie with relish. "Oh, am I going to enjoy this," she said, taking her time walking over to Donna so she could get a good look at what was going to soon be on her. She raised the pie slowly, daring Donna to flinch, and planted it squarely in her kisser.

Donna stood still to receive it: not moving as Michelle ground the pie into her face, and finished by wiping the pie up over her head. When Michelle was done Donna wiped her eyes out with one hand, blinked them open, but otherwise left the mess on her face untouched. The pie crust was dry and crumbly, and had fallen all down her front, accompanied by fruit, filling and syrup.

"Okay, Donna, next question is yours," I said. "What day did you first meet Mark?"

"March 21st," she said. "At the Silverdale Gym."

"Right again." I handed Donna an apple and raspberry tart. Donna studied Michelle for a moment, then told her to turn around. I could see her looking at Michelle's butt - her skirt was stained orange, sodden with soup and syrup, and hanging crumpled halfway down her butt. I could see the tops of her lacy black panties, and some of the bare skin of her butt.

Sure enough, Donna pushed the tart firmly onto her ass. Taking her cue from Michelle she took her time rubbing it in, wiping the pie over her dress, her panties and both buttcheeks. When she was done she left the pie where it was and stepped back. Apple and raspberry were smeared all over.

I waited for Michelle to turn around before asking the next question. "Mark has an extensive pornography collection. True/False?"

"True," said Michelle. "At least if you count pictures of naked women in pantyhose." I nodded to her and gave her a coconut cream pie. This one was the heaviest yet and I had to hold it in both hands to be sure I didn't drop it.

Michelle didn't spend much time torturing Donna this time. "Turn around," she said straight away. Donna did so, even bending forward a little so her butt stuck out.

"Good," said Michelle, and started pulling up the bottom of her dress.

"Uhm... what?" said Donna, laughing nervously.

"Oh be quiet, you've got more than one layer of clothing on," said Michelle. She lifted up the soaking lower half of Donna's dress and deposited it in the small of her back.

For the first time I was able to fully see Donna's stockings. Originally pale white, they were now streaked all over with chocolate syrup and pumpkin soup. Higher up, underneath the dress Donna had been wearing a topless body stocking, the fabric thin and semitransparent. It was fully transparent now, particularly around the butt where chocolate syrup had soaked through to the skin. The body stocking cupped her shapely buttocks in a V, cut high at the sides. You could practically see the hairs on her skin through it.

With one hand Michelle pushed Donna's back down a little further, and then she planted the pie on her ass. She rubbed it around and let the coconut cream drip down her legs, over her stockings and pumps.

Donna laughed the whole time. The nervousness had melted away by now. I could have sworn she was enjoying it. And indeed Michelle had gone from pushing the pie against her butt to running her hands through the actual cream, fingers pressing directly against Donna's ass.

After half a minute, she'd covered Donna's ass to her satisfaction, and Michelle carefully drew Donna's dress back down, concealing the mess.

"Donna, next question. How many letters in Mark's surname?" I was just lowballing them the questions now, but neither of them seemed to notice... or care. Donna answered 'six', correctly, and I handed her a chocolate gateaux. It was twice as high as any of the other pies, its surface covered in dark cream, the interior fruit and soft bubble-packed sponge.

When she had it in her hands Donna looked at Michelle a moment then told her to open her jacket. It was nearly falling off her at this stage but Michelle held it open a little wider at her breasts. Her white shirt was thin and gauzy, smeared with syrup and cream and soup. It followed the curves of her breasts, which stood out sharply between her hands.

That was where Donna aimed the gateaux, planting it firmly between her breasts. The cake was big enough that it promptly covered them both, squashing out over her neck and her belly. She started to rub it in, but the gateaux was far too fragile to be pushed like a pie and it crumbled apart in her hands. She rubbed it in anyway, pushing handfuls around over Michelle's breasts, picking up pieces and smearing them over the folds of her jacket. Gateaux slowly fell down Michelle's front in slow motion disintegration.

When she stepped back to examine the damage, Michelle's chest was a mass of cream and cake. A big shelf of cream had been pushed into her cleavage. Cream covered Michelle's hands, still holding her jacket open.

"You can close the jacket now," said Donna. Michelle lifted the fallen arm of the jacket back up over her shoulder, then pulled her jacket back together. She pressed it against her body and it stuck in the cream, concealing most of the gateaux on her chest.

They looked at each other. Both of them were laughing now.

The next question was Michelle's, and I asked as they were both still laughing. "And how many letters in Mark's first name?"

"Four?" snorted Michelle. I gave her a cherry pie. Michelle stood for a while and looked at Donna curiously. There was a goading expression in Donna's eyes. It was if they were daring each other to go further and further.

"Okay, I've got it," she said eventually. "Pull down your top."

Donna didn't protest or look confused. Her dress was already sagging down her body, only an inch or two from freeing her breasts for public display. Donna held the dress fabric out from her body, then tugged it down, having to work a little to shift the wet fabric down her rather tight torso. Eventually she gave up and just rolled it down to her waist.

Underneath the dress was her white body stocking, the top coming to just above her nipples. It had a wide white streak down its middle, the cake batter Michelle had poured in earlier. Elsewhere it was streaked with chocolate syrup, and most of it was still wet from the pumpkin soup. The moisture had turned it transparent, so that it was barely an extra layer over her body. Her breasts stood out clearly as if she was wearing nothing at all.

(cont)

Donna stood there, no self-consciousness at all, just laughing as Michelle planted the pie on Donna's breasts. She rubbed it over both breasts, leaving behind bright red streaks of cherry and syrup. This pie had a lot more integrity than the gateaux, so Michelle had to break it up with her hands and spread it over Donna's breasts directly. When she was satisfied she stepped back and told Donna to pull the body stocking back up. This struck Donna as particularly funny and she nearly doubled over laughing, before straightening and attempting to to pull the dress back where it was. After half a minute of good hearty tugs, a lot of straining and pulling, and both Donna and Michelle pissing themselves laughing, she'd managed to get the dress back up to the level of her breasts, loosely covering them.

"Donna, your question," I said, ignoring the giggling. "Was Mark a good lay?"

"Oh, shit yeah," she answered immediately.

"I think I'll have to pay that one..." I gave Donna an apricot pie. Donna looked at Michelle, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Open your jacket," she said. Michelle did her one better - she immediately shrugged her shoulders out of the jacket and dropped the thoroughly fucked-up thing on the floor. She looked strange, her arms actually clean, no mess along them for most of their length.

"Now open the shirt," said Donna. Michelle stuck her hands in the creamy mess on her shirt and hunted for the buttons. There were only three of them, low down on the shirt, but it took work just to find them, something that struck Michelle as so funny she burst out laughing again.

Eventually she managed to pop the buttons. She dramatically whipped the shirt open, holding the fabric out and posing her breasts like she was standing in front of a photographer. More bare skin was now revealed, orange-stained but reasonably clean. The tops of her breasts were slimy and orange/white; the undersides clean and almost dry. Pie from the earlier hit on her shirt had slid down between her breasts and coated not only her black skirt but the black panties above them, which were now almost entirely visible behind the skirt.

Donna took her time with the pie hit, as if she was as interested in the display as I was. Then she planted the apricot pie flush over Michelle's breasts. She rubbed the mixture in directly with her hands, concentrating on the areas of bare skin remaining. Her fingers slid over Michelle's breasts, smoothing out the apricot, leaving orangey streaks on her belly and chest. Michelle laughed and laughed.

When Donna was done Michelle pulled her shirt back over her breasts, though she didn't bother to redo the buttons. The jacket she left on the floor.

Michelle was still laughing as I asked her the next question. I think she heard me wrong. At any rate she got the answer wrong, and I was forced to give the next pie to Donna, who took it avidly. It was butterscotch and caramel. I could feel the stickiness on my face just looking at it.

"You know, your face hasn't been pied yet," said Donna. She pressed the pie gently over Michelle's laughing face. Rather than grind it in, she just let the pie go and stepped back. It clung there, sticky and coagulant, and all you could see of Michelle was the cream and syrup around her mouth moving up and down as she still laughed. Slowly the glutinous mixture began to sag, and then with a sudden rush a tongue of cream dropped down onto her skirt, pulling it down to her knees. Michelle finally wiped her eyes clean, and she stared brightly at Donna out of a mask of cream and caramel. Then she leant over and tugged her skirt down her legs, and stepped out of it.

She really didn't too much clothing left on at this stage. I did my best not to notice and turned to Donna. "Donna, your question. And remember, this is the last pie. Mark's parents are both dead - True/False?"

"True!" said Donna. Her dress had fallen down around her waist again, and she apparently couldn't care less.

"Wrong, sorry." I handed Michelle a lemon meringue pie. Michelle, whose face was just two buttony eyes and an open mouth in a pile of mess, stared long and hard at Donna, her eyes wandering over her body. Both of them were giggling.

Then with no warning Michelle suddenly spun and pied me in the face.

The sudden force carried me back. I stumbled and nearly fell against the table behind me. My eyes had blinked shut in the nick of time, and I distinctly felt the oozy meringue touch my skin before being pushed aside by the thick yellow lemony filling. It was like someone had tossed a warm tasty blanket over my face. I felt Michelle's hand steady the back of my head and then she was grinding the pie in. I felt the pressure of her hand, felt the cream and lemon push and slide over my skin. I was aware of pie mixture falling onto my chest, and little bits sliding down my neck and inside my gray sweatshirt. I could feel my hair tugging where it had been snagged by the pie.

I decided to surrender myself to the sensation. I stood still and let Michelle work the pie into me. I opened my mouth a little and licked the mixture with my tongue, carrying the taste inside my mouth.

Then I felt her hand release the pie. It clung to my face, and I worked my jaw up and down to dislodge the stuff around my mouth. Then I reached two hands up and wiped my eyes clean.

"I think she deserved that," said Michelle to Donna. She sounded faint - some of the pie had gotten in my ears and it was like being down the end of a narrow hallway.

They were both laughing at my face. To be honest, even though I'd seen them both pied, I had no idea how I now looked. But they were calming down a bit now there were no more pies to throw.

Michelle turned to Donna. Softly, she said, "I'm sorry."

Donna nodded. "Thank you. But that doesn't give me a relationship again."

"You don't need a relationship," said Michelle determinedly. "You have friends."

And I saw something dawn on Donna's face. She stared at Michelle as if grasping the full implications of that statement.

I was still wiping stuff out of my face, and they seemed happy to ignore me. Now I stopped and said, "Ready to forgive each other now?"

"No," they said in unison, smiling.

I grinned. "Looks like we all want to see this out to the end. Okay, it's on to round 5!" I stepped back from them and walked over to a new corner of the garage. Here there was a wide plastic tarp over a low, flat surface. I tugged the tarp off and steam billowed out.

Underneath the plastic was a kiddy pool, one and a half feet deep, ten feet across, and full to the brim with rice pudding. I'd mixed it earlier with hot water and steam still rose gently from the gloopy surface.

It had suddenly become very quiet in the garage.

"The rules are-" I began, but as I turned back around I saw Michelle and Donna were already grappling with each other. Donna almost managed to shove Michelle in, but Michelle slipped out and ducked under her arms. Then she spun around and pushed Donna back. Donna's legs got tangled up in her dress and she toppled over. Michelle's triumph was short-lived however, as Donna had her firmly by the arms and she too now pitched forward.

Donna hit the rice pudding almost horizontal, sending out a big splash wave that ran over the sides of the pool. Her body sunk down halfway before Michelle toppled in on top of her, submerging all but her head. Their legs pressed down on one side of the pool and rice pudding was pouring out all over the floor. I quickly lifted the plastic wall back up before any more could escape.

Donna wriggled out from under Michelle and tried to pull down Michelle, but she was on her arms and knees and holding her position firmly. Donna scrambled to her knees and rose up above Michelle. Michelle tried to push her back but Donna shifted position and stood above her. She fell down on Michelle's back, pushing her down. Michelle's front went under. Her arms swung back and hooked around Donna's legs. As Donna slowly pushed her face into the pudding Michelle suddenly pulled on her legs. Donna toppled backward again. Quickly Michelle was up and over her, one hand holding her torso down, the other pushing down on her head. It went completely below the surface and Michelle laughed triumphantly.

She let Donna back up. Donna spluttered, wiped down her face, and said, "Oh, God..." She was totally covered in gray rice pudding. You couldn't even see her clothes any more, except for the shape they made beneath the pudding. "You're going under too, you know," she said.

"Make me!" Michelle sat up on her haunches, ready to fight Donna off.

Donna lunged for Michelle but instead of trying to push her over, grabbed her shirt with both hands and pulled her forward. Michelle had no chance to brace herself and Donna fell back, sinking beneath the pudding. At the last moment she rolled aside and let Michelle fall down where she had been. Her head hit the pudding and Donna pushed it down the rest of the way.

Michelle didn't wait to be let up, she drew up her legs and pushed off the surface. When her head broke free again she didn't attack though, just sat there and laughed. Laughed at the absurdity of it all. Her shirt was wide open now, her breasts coated in pudding. Donna was picking up handfuls of pudding and dropping them on Michelle's head. Steam rose off their bodies.

Then Michelle reached her arms out and started grappling with Donna again. Their movements were slower, less energetic now, as if they were tiring. Then I realized something else was different. Michelle wasn't trying to shift Donna's weight, or push her over. Her hands were beneath the surface of the pudding and they seemed to be pulling at something. I heard ripping noises, and saw fabric floating on the surface in front of Donna. Then Michelle pushed Donna back so she lay flat on her back, put her hands down at her waist and tugged downward.

Donna lay there as Michelle tugged at her dress, pulling it down her thighs, until at last she'd worked it free of her body. She threw the dress in my direction and I just managed to dodge it.

"Thought you looked a little uncomfortable in that dress," she said to Donna. "It isn't really wrestling attire."

"Thanks," said Donna. "Aren't you a little overdressed, though?" She got up, sat in front of Michelle and pulled her shirt off one shoulder. Michelle shrugged her arms to help as Donna pulled the other shoulder off, and then yanked the shirt down one arm. Michelle got her arm free and Donna pulled the shirt off the other arm, again throwing it in my direction.

Michelle's body under the shirt was already coated with pudding, so it didn't change her appearance much. But from the waist up she was definitely naked. Donna lifted handfuls of pudding up and ran them over Michelle's chest. Then Michelle leant forward, picked up some more handfuls and returned the favor. Donna rocked back, then pushed at Michelle so she fell back into the pudding. Slowly Donna crawled over her, pudding dripping down from her body stocking onto Michelle's torso.

Now Donna pushed her body down on Michelle's and began to grind against her. Michelle reached her arms up and held Donna by her lower back, then moved her hands down and cupped her buttocks. Then she rose up and they rolled over each other, moving up and down in the pudding. As they continued shifting position their bodies stayed tightly together. Michelle's hands were fixed firmly to Donna's butt. I couldn't even see what Donna was doing with hers.

Their heads were still a little bit apart but then Michelle leant up, twisted her head to the side, and nuzzled at Donna's neck. Donna sighed happily.

Michelle got a look on her face and suddenly she pulled back from Donna. She sat up straight and plunged her hands into the pudding. Her torso wiggled around, and a few seconds later she held her unrecognizable black panties. She tossed them aside.

Donna copied Michelle's stance, grabbed the top of her body stocking, and pulled it down her chest. Her breasts were pale and sticky. She rolled the body stocking down to her waist, and after a little bit of wriggling she was holding the body stocking aloft. She threw it over her shoulder.

Michelle's hands went to her waist, and a few seconds later she was tossing aside her suspenders.

Donna ducked her hands under the pudding again, kicked her legs out, and a moment later she was holding up a white G-string. That surprised me, I didn't think she even owned a G-string. It was thrown aside.

Michelle pulled herself through the pudding to Donna. "Remember," she said, "you have friends."

And she planted her lips firmly over Donna's.

Donna pressed back against her, the muscles in her back relaxing. Her head seemed to collapse against Michelle's.

Straightaway Michelle's hands were cupping Donna's breasts. Donna's hands were down in the pudding and moving vigorously at Michelle's groin. It was as if the kiss had flicked a switch in them - they didn't need the pretence of a friendly wrestle anymore, they could openly admit to their desires.

Michelle unfolded her legs and wrapped them around Donna's body. Still they kissed, moaning and sighing, sucking and pressing.

It was as if I didn't exist. And while this public display of messy affection was turning me on, I felt left out.

"So, have you forgiven each other yet?" I piped up.

They pulled apart from each other. In unison they turned their heads to look at me. Then they looked back at each other, nodded, and stood up.

I knew then what they wanted to do. And it was what I wanted too - but I wasn't going to go passively. As they stepped toward me, grinning, I backed away from the edge of the pool. My feet slipped in a puddle of pumpkin soup and I fell on my backside. Cold soup soaked the seat of my pants.

They stepped over the edge of the pool and advanced. Both of them were wearing stockings, Donna was also wearing her elbow length gloves. Otherwise they were naked. They were coated from head to toe in gray rice pudding. They looked awesome and fearsome, like monsters from a '50s sci-fi film.

I scrambled to my feet and backed away, but I was in a corner now and there was nowhere else to run. Michelle got me first, her hand grabbing my arm, and I squealed. Then Donna moved in and grabbed me round the torso, her whole body pressing up against mine. She was warm and slippery.

Together they lifted me up and carried me to the pool. They stepped in together, still holding me aloft, and I was screaming excitedly. When they had me right in the centre of the pool, they counted to three and let me go.

I went in ass first, sending pudding splashing up in all directions. I sank down to my breasts before regaining my balance and managing to sit up. Then Donna was in front of me, holding my sodden sweatshirt open while Michelle scooped up pudding and dropped it down my front, coating the tops of my breasts. Michelle's hands moved down my body, disappeared beneath the pudding, and then I felt my pants being pulled out from my groin. Donna picked up some pudding and dropped over my groin. It was entirely futile - my whole body below the waist was underneath the pudding - but they didn't mind. Michelle released my pants and put her hands on my shoulders. She pushed me down so I was on my back, my whole body sinking below the pudding. Then Donna was up at my side and rolling me over. I was enjoying this too much to fight back. They pushed my head under, and for just a couple of seconds it was like I was in another world.

I raised my head, feeling overwhelmed by the sensation of pudding all over my body - the weight of my hair; the taste in my mouth; the warmth and pressure; the slippery, shifty nature of my new layer of skin. I ran my fingers over my sweatshirt, feeling the texture of the pudding.

Donna was behind me and she put her hands inside my pants, cupping my buttocks. I made a small gasp as she squeezed.

She said to Michelle, "Not wearing any underwear."

Michelle moved beside Donna and yanked up my top, revealing my bare back underneath. "Or a bra either," she said.

She moved back in front of me. "You planned this all out," she said. "You expected all this to happen." She nodded sharply at Donna and quickly they'd seized my sweatshirt - Michelle from the front, Donna at the back - and whipped it over my head.

I looked down at my bare body, and ran my fingers over my chest, making trails in the pudding. Then I leant back, my head in Donna's lap, my breasts bobbing on the surface. "A girl's gotta have fun," I said. "Besides, it worked."

"Yeah, it worked," said Michelle. "And you really like this, don't you?" She put her right hand out and kneaded one of my breasts. I murmured my appreciation. Donna joined in, her hand on my other breasts, not rubbing in unison with Michelle but just the feel of two different people feeling me at once made me glow with pleasure.

Michelle lowered her head and started sucking at my breast. Donna copied her, so that there were two pairs of lips kissing my nipples, sucking and licking at my tits. It felt heavenly, but they must have been bumping heads or something, because they stopped what they were doing, looked at each other, and kissed over my body. Michelle dropped her head and sucked at Donna's breasts. Donna's hands were running over Michelle's breasts, up her shoulders, and teased at Michelle's hair as Michelle bared her teeth and began to nip at Donna's breasts. Her hands were back below the pudding, stroking Donna's crotch.

I lay where I was, Michelle and Donna a tent of warm bodies above me, and pressed my hands to my crotch. The fabric of my pants was porous and it was like I was touching myself directly.

Michelle raised her head and leant back, her hands pulling Donna to her. Donna sucked at her breasts and now the roles were reversed, Michelle's busy hands working at Donna's front, Donna fingering her groin.

They kept making out this way and I kept pressing my hands to my groin, my eyes half-closed with the pleasure. Donna's mouth was gradually moving down Michelle's torso, and suddenly she ducked it under the pudding, pressing forward against Michelle's crotch. It wriggled around for a couple of seconds, the pudding rippling on the surface, and then she gave up and pulled her head clear. Michelle very clearly remained unlicked.

Michelle stood up. She helped Donna to her feet. "Come on," she said, "let's take a shower."

They went out the back without even glancing back at me. I watched them go out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't want to move. I rubbed myself harder and closed my eyes.

PART 6 - THE VISITOR


I have a small backyard, just a little lawn area with some flower beds at the edges, and a couple of trees with dark leaves. The fencing on all sides was made of white pickets, six feet tall, and none of the nearby houses was elevated enough to see over it.

Against the back wall of the house was a concrete path, running to small patio area. I'd originally wanted to put a pool in there, but I'd never gotten around to it. The only remnant of this plan was some extra water piping, which I'd used to mount an outdoor shower head in one corner of the patio. It had hot and cold running water, and a plastic rack mounted against the wall with bottles of liquid soap in it.

These were a new addition. Since I'd left the club a few days back I'd followed up on the company who supplied cleaning products to the Messy Club, and a few hours later I was driving away from their factory with a box of liquid soap on the back seat.

Last of all, I'd hung up a couple of white bathrobes.

Everything was set up for Donna and Michelle, and they emerged from the garage kissing and fondling, touching each other the whole way to the shower. They were still wet, leaving large gray footprints behind them.

Michelle stood under the shower and flicked the water on. As it slowly began to wash the pudding off their bodies, they drew close and tongue kissed, exploring the warm salty taste of each other's mouth. Their arms wrapped tightly around the other's back, warm water cascading down their heads.

Some of the layers of muck on their bodies started to slowly slide off. Michelle unwrapped her arms from around Donna and reached downward. One hand slid around and cupped Donna's right buttock, the other pushed down so her fingers were over her pussy.

Donna copied the posture, her hand on Michelle's left buttock, the other at her pussy.

Michelle extended her finger and penetrated Donna's vagina. Donna gasped and reflexively did the same, her finger shooting forward. Michelle began to work her finger around Donna's clitoris, rubbing back and forth, and then moving to a more circular motion. Donna moaned her approval.

Donna's technique was more primitive - she ignored the clitoris and just thrust her fingers in and out of Michelle's cunt - but her exuberance made up for this deficiency. She ducked her head down and licked Michelle's breasts, at the same time tugging tightly at Michelle's butt, her thumb pushing at Michelle's asshole.

Soon their bodies jerked up and down to the same rhythm, the motion dislodging more gunge. Donna was the first to come, her gasps suddenly loud and piercing. Michelle was breathing hard but not quite there yet, so when Donna came down from her orgasm she dropped to her knees in the slime and, fingers still moving inside Michelle's pussy, began to lick at her labia, gently pushing at the folds of skin.

Michelle gasped her assent, and fondled her breasts, feeling the mixture of cream and pudding and water move through her hands. She looked down at Donna's head, and watched as the watery pudding slowly rolled down her body.

It was piling up on Donna's head so Michelle picked up a dispenser of liquid soap and began to rub some into Donna's hair like shampoo.

The motion of Donna's head faltered, as if she was confused by what Michelle was doing.

"Don't stop that," said Michelle, breathing heavily, "it feels too good."

Donna didn't need to be told again and Michelle went back to soaping her hair. Her whole head was in a lather by now. Pudding, pie, soup, peanut butter, the whole mess in her hair was now sliding smoothly down her head like oil. It showered down over Donna's face and Michelle's crotch. Michelle thrust her hands down just so she could feel the gunge cascading past. Her breathing rapidly turned faster and moments later her pelvis bucked, Michelle transported in ecstasy. Donna moved her mouth in closer, took her clit in her lips and sucked. Michelle's hips kept bucking.

After what felt to her like the sixth of a cresting wave of orgasms, Michelle got her breath back. She lifted Donna's head and got her standing again.

"I'm going to clean you up," she whispered.

She covered her hands in soap and began to work over every inch of Donna's body, from the top down. Her hands rubbed vigorously into Donna's skin, using fingers to rake up the muck, palms to work the soap up into a lather. Soon the mess was slipping freely down Donna's body. Donna stood still and let Michelle work, removing layer after layer: pudding, pie, soup, sauce, batter, the works. When she came to her arms Michelle pulled the gloves from her arms and cleaned the bare skin below. Moving onto her torso she pulled Donna close and held their bodies together as she soaped up Donna's back. When she switched to her front Michelle first licked her breasts as clean as she could, sucking the gunge up and spitting it clear, and then switched to her soapy hands. She worked her way down her body, hands moving briskly through Donna's mucky thatch of pubic hair. At first her touch pulled at the hair and Donna gasped. Then the soap worked itself in and her touch became silken smooth.

She rubbed at Donna's genitals, cleaning them up, then knelt down and gave Donna a return present. Her tongue brought Donna quickly to orgasm. As Donna came she kept on licking her clit, her hands working their way down her thighs, gunge sliding down her legs.

By the time Donna's orgasm had ended Michelle was pulling down her stockings. Donna stepped out of them and Michelle tossed them aside.

She stood. Michelle was still covered all over in gunge, her hair a spiky mess. Donna was totally clean, her skin glowing red from Michelle's touch.

She was smiling and picked up the liquid soap dispenser. "My turn," she said. Then she set to Michelle's body, working in the same manner, even making the same rubbing motion with her hands. Michelle stood still, her eyes shut. She had fewer clothes to remove - just her garter belt and stockings, which Donna pulled off first. Michelle suddenly realized that neither she nor Donna were wearing shoes. Must have lost them in the pool, she thought. Then she felt Donna's head at her groin, and she began kneading her breasts with both hands.

Donna was using her teeth, nipping quickly at her labia, and as Michelle rubbed her breasts and moaned Donna had a hand down between her legs, fingering herself. She was breathing hard and Michelle felt the warm air blowing over her pussy.

Michelle's nails dug into the flesh of her breast, as Donna nibbled at her clit, and Donna's fingers pistoned in and out of her pussy. They climaxed together, their yells merging underneath the steady noise of the shower.

When Donna was done she'd picked up a small bit of mess from Michelle, and some patches still remained to be cleaned. Together they dumped soap in their hands and rubbed over each other once more, this time taking more care to clean the skin. Soon they were glistening all over, their bodies warm and slippery.

Michelle grinned at Donna, who laughed. She pressed her body against hers, squashing their breasts together. Donna moved forward and shook her hips, grinding her pelvis against Michelle's. Then their mouths were suddenly all over each other, and Michelle was lowering Donna down to the ground.

Donna lay on her back in the wet pile of muck on the concrete and Michelle knelt over her, warm water raining down on her back. She kissed Donna and stroked her hair, and in response Donna held her ass and fingered her cunt. Almost as soon as she felt her touch Michelle suddenly switched positions, her mouth above Donna's groin, and she plunged her lips into that warm pink fluid. She felt Donna's lips on her thighs, moving up to her cunt. Donna's body was moving beneath her, her belly rippling, head nodding back and forth. She felt the pressure of Donna's tongue on her cunt rhythmically increasing and decreasing. She heard the squelch of Donna's back moving up and down on the mess beneath her.

Again they came together: this time Donna's muscles tensed, then went limp at Michelle's touch. As this happened Michelle felt a warmth deep inside her and a loosening in her groin; moments later she had a fluid orgasm, ejaculate cascading down over Donna's face.

They kept at it for several minutes more, holding the orgasm, keeping the pleasure steady. Michelle was the first to stop. She lifted her head, licked her lips, and rolled to one side. Donna couldn't move. She lay in the muck, breasts heaving, mouth still gasping for air.

Finally they got to their feet. Michelle wiped down Donna's back, then they turned off the shower. They put on the bathrobes I'd left them, belted them shut, and returned to the garage...

===

Meanwhile Chloe was driving toward my house.

This hadn't originally been her idea, I learnt from her later. After I'd rebuffed the manager of the Messy Club a few days ago, he hadn't given up on the idea of getting me to perform there. He always found it difficult to book new talent, and having noticed how quickly I'd struck up a bond with Chloe, he'd sent her over to take another shot at convincing me to come back.

Chloe had her own reasons as well. In the three days since we'd met, she'd been thinking of me a lot. It sounds bigheaded to say it, but I was fascinating to her.

Chloe knew the strip bar world pretty well, and it was very strange for a single woman to visit a strip bar incognito. The only reason that made sense to Chloe was that I was an undercover journalist, and it was on this basis that she and the other waitresses had gunged me. It's always good fun humiliating a journalist.

But after I'd been on stage for just a few minutes it was clear I wasn't any kind of reporter. It was also clear from my responses that the mess was turning me on.

And so the only other reason Chloe could think of for me being there was that I was curious about getting messy.

Which was unheard of. Chloe knew all the waitresses and performers at the club, and they'd all been secured by the manager through the usual porn channels. When he hired someone new he'd hand them over to the girls and they'd train them, teaching them what the customer wanted to see, and how best to use the materials. Most people quit at this stage, either disgusted or weirded out. Those that didn't simply viewed the messy substances as a tool, like a pole or a whip - something you used with your body to turn the client on.

Nobody every walked up off the streets, said "hey, getting messy turns me on; got a job?"

And in fact Chloe was starting to feel something of an outsider at the club.

Because she'd come to view getting messy as a sensuous experience, erotic in itself.

It hadn't been like that at first: when she'd started she just wriggled her body, followed the scripts others had written, kept her mind elsewhere, and pocketed her money at the end of the night. Working at the Messy Club was just like any other job, except you didn't tell people about it.

Then she started to have dreams about her work. And the dreams became longer and more vivid. She'd dream about smearing cake over herself in a public park. Or she'd be standing at the side of the road and a succession of cars would drive past, splashing her head to toe in mud. Or she'd fill a long line of buckets with slime, stand on a street corner, and people would come and toss the buckets over her. She'd wake from these dreams flushed and excited.

Chloe didn't know what to do at first. She didn't like it how the boundaries between her work life and her home life were blurring. But one day she found herself fantasizing in the daytime about a little messy scenario and she suddenly decided to end it. She took a can of creamed corn from the pantry, walked up to the bathroom, and sat down in the bath. She didn't hesitate, didn't bother to take off her shirt or her jeans, or even her shoes. She just dumped the corn over her head, watched it drip down in front of her eyes, saw it sticking in clumps to her shirt, and suddenly felt the most intense waves of pleasure. She scrambled for the zipper of her jeans, pulled it open, tugged her panties down, picked up a small handful of corn and mashed it into her crotch. As she rubbed and the juice from the corn dribbled down her legs it only took a few more seconds for her to come.

That resolved things for her, even if it didn't make her life any easier. She knew now she'd developed a messy fetish, and while she knew there were plenty of men who had the same kink - they had the receipts to prove it - she didn't know of a single woman at the club who felt the same way. There were some who made a big show, onstage and offstage, of being tremendously turned on by being messy, but these people were exhibitionists, rather than actual fetishists. Everyone else had the attitude that, hell, it's just a job.

Chloe wasn't comfortable sharing her experiences with anyone else, particularly since she'd never been one of the exhibitionists. She considered quitting for a while, but the sweet setup was too much of a lure. Meanwhile she was getting messy at home for her own pleasure at least once a week.

So I'd rather made her head spin, if I do say so myself. Here I was, a woman who'd somehow picked up the messy fetish naturally. A creature that Chloe had started to think never existed.

Of course she wanted to meet me again.

And she was bringing more than just a job offer.

Chloe didn't have any messy stuff in the car - what would be the point? - but she did have some sex toys in her purse.

It was her clothes she'd given the most attention to however. Chloe liked to dress formally when she got messy, and so she was wearing a brown suit and skirt, a tightly buttoned white blouse, pantyhose and heels. Her hair was in a bun, earrings dangled from her ears, lipstick carefully applied. She looked like a real estate agent or insurance salesman.

Wishful thinking, she thought. You're an idiot for thinking anything is going to happen. But she'd curse herself if the opportunity came and she wasn't dressed for it.

When she pulled up at my house she could see a couple of cars already parked there. Has she got visitors?, Chloe thought.

Her car was idling, and she almost just drove straight out of there. Then she thought, to hell with it, and shut off the engine. Maybe they're visiting someone else's house.

I'm going in.

Chloe picked up her purse and headed for the house.

She felt stupid for hoping. But she hoped nonetheless.

===

I lay in the warm rice pudding, rubbing myself through my pants, and tuned the world out.

The touch of my fingers was stimulating my imagination. I was replaying some of the messier moments of the day, and in my head I saw Michelle tipping the cake batter down Donna's dress, Michelle sitting in the bucket of pumpkin soup, the pie on Donna's ass. I saw them all and imagined myself as the recipient. I felt the chocolate syrup splashing onto my bare ass as Michelle lifted my pants away from my legs. I felt the bucket of cream lowered over my head, felt it slipping down over my shoulders. I felt Donna pulling out my pants and pouring maple syrup over my groin.

Most of all I replayed the moment when Michelle had spun around and pied me.

Though I was covered all over with rice pudding there was still a lot of pie on my face. I imagined myself rising above my body, and looking down at me in the pudding, face hidden beneath layers of food, breasts two mounds of pudding. I sighed and slipped my hand inside my pants. My fingers found my cunt and began pushing.

I thought of every concrete detail I could remember - how the meringue flattened on my face with the weight of the lemon filling behind it. How the top part of the pie had been the first to break off and fall down her chest, the feel of the squashed pie between my fingers as I wiped my eyes clean. My bare feet standing in a lumpy puddle of pumpkin soup. The hems of my pants wet and clinging to my calves. The food on my hands and sleeves.

As the remembered details piled up I fingerfucked myself harder. I gasped.

Then I suddenly became aware again of the sensation of being in a warm pool of rice pudding, topless and coated in it. It was like being suddenly transported from a fantasy to reality. My other hand pulled my hands down to my knees as my fingers began to rapidly rub up and down and I knew I was going to come any second.

Just before I did, I pulled my elbow off the floor of the pool and ducked my head back.

I came totally surrounded by rice pudding. It was a struggle not to open my mouth and shout, the pleasure was so intense. My body thrashed about. Then I jerked my head back up, gasping for air, blood rushing in my ears, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it battering against my skin.

As I wiped down my head and cleared my eyes, my body relaxed back into its normal groove. Finally I blinked my eyes open.

Michelle and Donna were there, showered in clean, in their fresh white bathrobes. From the smiles on their faces they'd obviously seen everything.

"I think Audrey's enjoyed this far too much," Michelle said to Donna. "You think we've paid her back yet?"

"Not a chance," said Donna.

"I'll look for more foods," said Michelle. "You make sure she stays put and gets what's coming to her." She turned and started pulling up the plastic from various heaps and shelves.

Donna didn't need to be told twice. She immediately unbuckled her bathrobe and stepped into the pool, flashing me with her crotch, before sitting down cross-legged beside me. I pulled myself up and faced her. The pudding came to the underside of her breasts. Most of her bathrobe had been pulled beneath her when she sat down and what remained above the surface was pulled down tightly from her shoulders.

She smiled at me, reached out and stroked my right breast with one finger. I looked at her body moving through the pudding, her breasts barely hidden behind the robe, and immediately tugged my pants off. I threw them aside.

"Aha!" said Michelle behind me.

I knew I'd had a lot more supplies that I hadn't used, but I couldn't remember exactly what they were or where they'd been hidden. I wondered what she'd found.

You're about to find out, I thought.

I could hear her walking up behind me. "Think I'll start with this nice pre-opened pack of custard", she said. "Make sure she doesn't move," she added to Donna.

Donna unfolded her legs and entangled them in mine. "She ain't moving," she said.

Michelle poured the custard over my head. At first it was just a cold lump in my hair, then it spread and ran down my face. I watched Donna's expression. She grew steadily more amused as my face turned yellow. Custard dripped in a circle on the pudding around me. I couldn't feel it so much with the pudding covering my body, but I could see the slowly widening streaks of yellow on my shoulders, my torso and in front of my eyes.

Donna moved her legs back and forth. One foot pushed on my buttocks.

"You do look a treat," said Michelle. "Donna, you're in a better position for this one." She bent over against me and handed Donna a pumpkin pie decorated with whipped cream.

Donna took the pie in both hands and held it up to my face like a mirror.

I didn't wait for her to pie me; I pushed my face forward and pied myself. I ground my face around and Donna held the pie steady; then she ran it up my forehead and let it sit on my hair. Bits of pie and crust feel between us into the pudding.

Next Michelle dangled a pail of honey in front of my face, making sure I saw it. "Guess you wouldn't want this in your hair. Oh well, too bad."

She poured it over my head. It fell slowly, over the pie at first and I couldn't feel anything.

Donna's toe found my crotch. I gasped. Donna grinned wickedly and began kneading my crotch steadily. Now I could feel honey dripping down over my ears. Suddenly it was overflowing, a thick sticky curtain surrounding my head. It built up in piles on my shoulders and ran down over my breasts. I brought my hands up and rubbed them in the honey. Still it trickled down, and I felt hairs stand up around my nipples. Michelle was swirling the pail of honey around above me, and I felt it fall directly onto my back. The honey was so sticky it clung to my body even as it sunk below the pudding.

As the last of the honey ran out an especially accurate thrust of Donna's foot made me gasp again. I reached my arms out to Donna and she had no hesitation in pulling us together and kissing me furiously, mashing her face into the layers of honey and custard and pie on mine. In the last second before her lips touched mine I caught a glimpse of her breasts inside her robe. As we kissed I reached out and caressed her breasts with my honey-covered hands. They were so much larger and heavier than I'd imagined. Our eyes were shut and I worked by touch, making trails of honey on her breasts.

"Hmmm," said Michelle. "A large bowl of soggy cornflakes in milk? Now that is kinky, Audrey. Oh, and Donna? Darling? You're going to get cornflake mush all over you if don't stop doing that."

We ignored her and kept on kissing, sharing the taste between our mouths. Michelle gave us a couple of seconds, shrugged, and dumped the bowl over me. Milk gushed down, followed immediately by a wet heap of cornflake which splatted on both our heads. It clogged the gap between us, and made a very liquid squelching noise as our heads moved.

"There was something very satisfying about that," said Michelle.

The next thing she picked up was a bowl of stewed apricot. This time she didn't even bother to single me out and dumped the lot over us both. I'd taken my hands out of Donna's robe by now and was running them through her hair, feeling the mess piling up on her head. Donna had wrapped her legs around mine, and one hand moved up and down between my breasts. We still hadn't broken the kiss. I could feel the apricots and cornflakes slipping off my head and slowly splatting against my back and shoulders.

Now Michelle had a bowl of potato soup. She hummed to herself and doled it out by hand, dropping it on our heads. We kissed and fondled.

Suddenly I heard a woman's voice go "oh-", very sharply.

It was none of us three.

Michelle froze. Donna jerked her head back from mine and brushed her eyes clean. I whipped my head around.

A strange woman stood at the garage entrance. She had a brown suit and skirt on and she looked like she'd come to sell us something. Her eyes were wide. She stammered, "-nobody answered so I came around the side and-"

I couldn't see her that clearly so I wiped my eyes clean and blinked. Suddenly her face was familiar.

Is that CHLOE?!?

She looked back at me. "Audrey, is that you?" she said.

Nobody could say anything for a few seconds. Michelle hadn't moved: her face had turned a quite extraordinary shade of red. I could feel Donna withdrawing behind me, sinking her body beneath the pudding, afraid and trying to get out of sight.

I was too shocked to know what to think. I was embarrassed as hell, but on the other hand this was Chloe. If anyone was capable of understanding what they were doing, it was her.

"I thought you said you were just a beginner," said Chloe. I couldn't read the expression on her face.

"It's been a busy week," I said.

Donna and Michelle still hadn't said a word. I knew that they'd registered that this visitor wasn't acting horrified or shocked, but on the other hand they were probably about five seconds away from doing a runner.

If I was going to salvage this afternoon, I'd have to think fast.

I looked to Chloe for assistance. She wasn't saying anything but I saw something on her face, a secret expression only she and I could share. Suddenly I knew the reason for her visit. And why she was wildly overdressed for it. Those weren't clothes she was wearing - they were a uniform.

And now I knew the real reason she was here.

"Guys," I said to Michelle and Donna, "I hired a stripper."

They looked at me in amazement, momentarily forgetting Chloe. "You what?" said Donna.

"It's okay," I said. "I told her what we were going to be doing, and that we'd be getting her very messy, and she was up for it."

"You hired a female stripper for our entertainment," said Michelle skeptically. For a moment I thought she was going call bullshit, then she said, "Awfully presumptuous of you." I could see she had doubts - but she wanted my story to be true, because otherwise this was the embarrassment of her life.

"Well, if you hadn't enjoyed being messy, you wouldn't be here by now," I said. "I could have had some fun by myself."

I could see they still had reservations, and decided the moment called for bold action. "Here, I'll show you," I said, and stood up. I climbed out of the pool, totally naked. I was nervous as hell but did my best not to show it, knowing utter confidence was the key to making this work.

Chloe didn't react as I walked past her, and I couldn't look at her face. I approached the final corner of the garage, where a large plastic tarp hid something wide and tall. I pulled it down.

Chloe's eyebrows shot up.

"You have got to be shitting me," said Michelle.

"Is it me or does this garage keep getting bigger?" said Donna.

Underneath the tarp was an industrial vat, four and a half feet high, full to the brim with chocolate sauce. On either side of the vat I'd put in some platforms, with steps leading up the side, so it would be possible to step in gracefully.

I turned and held my hand out to Chloe.

I still couldn't read her face. Looking at her clothes, the buttoned up brown jacket, her knee length skirt, her starched collar, I wanted to get her messy more than ever. I hoped like hell I was right about her.

Chloe smiled nervously, and walked toward me. I took her hand and held it tightly, squashing pudding over her palm and wrist. We turned back and walked, hand in hand, toward the vat. Chloe took the left platform, I took the right. Our feet stepping in unison we climbed the stairs, and when we'd reached the top of the platform I released my grip, sat down on my haunches, pulled my legs in so my knees pointed straight up, and swiveled ninety degrees so I was facing Chloe again. She copied my movements, eyes fixed on mine.

Together we extended our legs, so they stretched out horizontally over the chocolate. My feet touched her shoes, and we pressed them against each other.

Then we lowered our legs. I concentrated on what I felt, at the same time watching Chloe like a hawk. I felt the warm chocolate on my feet, thinner and yet somehow stickier than I'd expected, and saw Chloe's shoes sinking below the surface, inch by inch. As her legs continued to lower I felt the warmth on my calves rising. The surface of the chocolate slopped around as Chloe's knees and thighs descended. I lifted myself out from the platform, holding myself up by my hands as lowered myself in vertically. Chloe's skirt touched the chocolate now and bunched up on the surface before her continued downward movement dragged it in. The chocolate around my thighs was getting thrillingly close to my groin.

Chloe's jacket was slipping into the chocolate now. It sagged downward as her crotch was enveloped by chocolate. I felt the same sensation around mine and my excitement rose. Chloe hadn't even discarded her purse, and it hung from her shoulder on a strap. I watched it bob on the surface as Chloe descended. I saw the same excitement on her face.

We were up to our breasts now, our arms flung back, hands barely supporting our weight. Chloe's purse was pushed under the chocolate by her shoulder. The vat sloped inward beneath us so our feet still hadn't found any purchase. We were sinking faster, the chocolate up to our shoulders.

Our necks went in, and now just our heads and upper arms were visible.

"All the way," whispered Chloe.

I nodded.

We released our hands and immediately our heads ducked under. Our legs slipped down and we got in a tangle on each other's feet at the bottom. The smell was intense in our nostrils. The warmth was like a pressure blanket over our bodies. I could feel the gunge on my body being lifted off my skin and swirling in the chocolate.

Then we lifted our hands and slowly pulled ourselves up. We were both gasping a little - the sensation of being totally covered by chocolate was all-enveloping. I turned my head to look at Chloe. Chocolate dripped from her hair and slowly ran down her face. Her jacket was creased and bunched at the shoulders, but still held its shape fairly well. Then I pulled her closer to me, because someone was behind her on the platform.

It was Michelle, and her pristine white bathrobe over her naked body made me go wet with desire. I wanted to run my chocolate coated hands all over her.

Chloe and I floated next to each other, and watched Michelle as she entered the chocolate. She did it the same way we did, slowly, sensuously, from her feet to her head. She disappeared completely under the chocolate.

When she emerged she did something unexpected - she pulled herself out of the vat, stood on the platform, and posed in front of us, hands on her hips. She looked so different - dripping brown from every hair, every fold of her bathrobe, the robe sodden and heavy, and then she grinned and her white teeth appeared in her face.

She slipped into the vat again and joined us, leaving room for Donna.

Donna was up the stairs quickly, and it was clear she'd recovered her confidence in the presence of our guest, as she hadn't belted her bathrobe around her. The whole front of her body was visible, matted and coated with pudding and pie and food. Her breasts jutted out, swollen with mess.

She didn't tease us with her entry, just slipped in like she was at the local pool. Michelle helped duck her head under the chocolate, and when she came up again she too pulled herself out of the vat and posed. She opened and closed her bathrobe flirtatiously, vamping and winking. She turned, pulled her robe to one side and flashed her ass. She faced us again, showed us her breasts, and let the robe slip off her shoulders and down to her elbows. She held one hand over her crotch and spread her legs apart. Her pussy was pink and moist.

"Well, if that's the trend," I said when she slipped back into the vat. I hoisted myself up and stood on the opposite platform. There I was, naked and brown and dripping, and I didn't have anything to pose with, so I just ran my hands up and down my body, rubbing at the food on my skin. I cupped my breasts and leaned forward. I ran fingernails over my belly and tried to reveal bare skin. I flashed them my ass and pushed the cheeks together, then apart. Then I couldn't think of anything else to do and I was feeling a little embarrassed anyway and so I joined them in the vat again.

We all looked at Chloe. She still seemed a little unsure of herself.

"Come on Chloe, you're the one with the uniform," I said.

She smiled at me. "Of course." She pulled herself out of the vat and stood straight. She looked at sight in her dripping uniform, chocolate soaked purse hanging from one shoulder. Her clothes looked a little shapeless but all the buttons were still intact, her skirt was tight around her waist, even the collar still had some starch in it.

Chloe spun around on the platform, did some off-the-shoulder poses with her jacket, like she was modeling accessories for a fashion catalogue. She gave us sultry looks, tugging at her jacket. When she opened it and showed us her shirt, and the vest partly covering it, I was surprised at how much it clung to her body.

"I was going to have her do a strip like this," I said to the other two. I hoped Chloe didn't mind me talking about her this way but thought it was a good idea to maintain the stripper illusion for now. "But now," I continued, "it doesn't really seem in the spirit of the occasion anymore. And there's no way to get messy up on that platform. Chloe?"

Chloe's smile seemed to indicate to me that she was willing to continue playing this game. She left her purse on the platform and joined us in the vat. With the four of us in there, and the way the vat sloped inward at the bottom, there was a lot of shared contact, very tingly and touchy feely. People glanced furtively at each other and exchange secret grins. Donna and Michelle were both leaning over to hear me and there was a very intimate atmosphere between the four of us.

"If Chloe strips in here," I was saying, "there's no way to see anything. And not a lot of room either. So here's what we do.

"We strip her. One item of clothing at a time."

I looked at Donna. "You first."

Michelle and I withdrew to the sides of the vat. Donna was looking at Chloe, who leaned against one side of the vat, looking very calm.

"The jacket," Donna decided. She moved closer to Chloe and began to pull it off her, first one arm then the next. Because she wasn't holding onto the side of the vat Donna had to cling closely to Chloe so her head wouldn't slip below the chocolate. Their bodies pressed in close as Donna, with Chloe's help, freed her other arm. She tugged the jacket down Chloe's back, Chloe twisting around to help. At last Donna had the jacket in her hand and she threw it out of the vat. She still clung to Chloe, and she brushed her hand up and down one of Chloe's arms, rubbing her shoulder (now covered by shirt and vest) a little. Then she moved back to the opposite side of the vat.

Chloe pulled herself out of the chocolate to the waist to show herself off. Her wrist-length shirt was tea-colored and hung wetly from her limbs. Her vest held its shape, buttoned at the waist, but it was low-cut and her breasts were clearly defined in the open gap. Through the wet fabric of her shirt I could clearly see her slip, and the contours of her lacy bra.

Michelle, bafflingly to me, elected to remove Chloe's shoes. Chloe lifted her legs and let them float on the surface, the heels of her shoes now a glistening brown. Michelle lifted them off and threw them aside, then licked her stockinged feet and sucked the toes, slurping in the chocolate.

This made my choice easy. "The pantyhose," I said. I reached one hand down to her groin and Chloe put a hand down there and tugged up her skirt. It was fairly tight around her legs and so she couldn't pull it up all the way. She lifted her groin up and stuck it out so I could get my hand in there. I felt her hand on my guiding it up. I felt the elastic at the top of the pantyhose and yanked it. It was wet and cupped her buttocks closely and I couldn't shift it. Chloe lifted her legs higher and I released my grip on the vat wall, bringing my other hand up under her butt. My head bobbed on the surface, the taste of chocolate on my lips, as I managed to work the pantyhose free of her crotch. I clung to her legs and floated, pulling the pantyhose down and rolling them up in a ball. As they came free of her feet I threw them aside. I lifted her feet out of the chocolate and sucked on her toes, while one hand slowly moved up the inside of her leg. My fingers moved up her thighs. I stretched and at full extension my fingertips touched her plump, panty-covered crotch.

Then I let her legs go and floated back to the side of the vat. My hair was dripping wet again. "I always knew chocolate sauce was decadent," I said, grinning. "So what are you still wearing, Chloe?"

Chloe listed them, counting off on her fingers. "Skirt, panties, slip, bra, vest, shirt."

"The vest," said Donna. Chloe guided her fingers to the buttons under the chocolate, and together they opened the vest. Chloe shrugged one shoulder free and Donna did the rest. As she had last time she clung closely to Chloe for support, their breasts pressing close. When Donna threw the vest out and ran her hands up Chloe's body and felt up Chloe's breasts through the shirt. She rubbed them both vigorously then moved away.

"The skirt," said Michelle. Chloe assisted again as Michelle moved her hand down to her waistband, one hand on Chloe's shoulder for support. When she found the button difficult however she released her grip, let her head sink below the surface, and brought both hands together to open it. She surfaced, head dripping, spluttering for breath, and grabbed Chloe's shoulder again. With the one hand, and Chloe's shimmying body, she pulled down the zipper at the back of the skirt, then pulled it down her legs. She threw it aside, Chloe holding Michelle up. As they clung together Michelle stuck both her hands down into the sauce, cupped her buttocks in her hands, and lifted Chloe up. She brought a hand round to Chloe's front and rubbed her crotch through her panties. Chloe's breathing was getting ragged.

They released each other and slowly moved me apart.

That display made me want to take off Chloe's panties but I thought the shirt would give me more time with her. We moved up close and rubbed our bodies together, before I took her arm and undid the button at her wrist. I did the other then started on her body, putting my hands under the chocolate and starting with the bottom button. Chloe had an arm supporting me at the shoulder. The tails of her shirt flapped apart, undulating in the chocolate, as I moved up her shirt. I felt the silk of her slip on my fingers. I couldn't resist giving her breasts a squeeze as I undid the last two buttons. Then her shirt was flapping open. I held her body to mine and Chloe pulled the shirt off herself. She threw it aside. Our bodies moved up and down against each other. I felt Chloe's breath in my ear.

"Hold yourself up," I said. Chloe braced her hands and lifted herself out of the chocolate to her waist. Her slip clung to her body like wet tissue paper, completely transparent. Beneath it her white bra supported her breasts but didn't hide the nipples. I traced lines on her belly in the chocolate sauce, enjoying the silken feeling of the slip. Then I grasped the side of the vat and lifted myself up beside her. I bent my head to her chest and kissed her breasts through the fabric. I felt her nipples harden under my lips.

I released my hold on the vat and we both sort of fell back into the chocolate. Both our heads went under and chocolate splashed around, slopping out of the vat. When we surfaced Chloe quickly moved in and pecked me on the lips, and then we separated.

"Slip, bra and panties," said Chloe, before anyone asked.

"The panties," said Donna. She moved to Chloe and put her hands down her body. Seconds later she had the panties in her hands. She let the float in the chocolate and stuck her hands back down at Chloe's groin. She rubbed Chloe hard, her body vibrating with pleasure, and Chloe gasped. Donna moved back and forward, and Chloe soon picked up the same rhythm.

It didn't look like they were going to separate any time soon. Michelle made as if to pull Donna back, but then her eyes locked with mine and she stopped, turned to me and moved close.

I'd wanted this for what felt like hours now. I stuck my hand inside her bathrobe and felt her breasts as our mouths moved together. We kissed, the chocolate lubricating our lips. I felt Michelle's hands touching my breasts, and fingers stroking my thighs. My hands had moved down from her breasts and were pulling at her belt, opening her bathrobe.

The robe floated out from her body and I felt Michelle's pussy. Even in the chocolate it was slippery and wet and hot. The flesh enveloped my fingers and I heard Michelle gasp. My breathing was hard and heavy. The sounds were muffled as our mouths were over each other's again. We rocked against each other and then I grabbed Michelle by the torso and flipped her around, so her front leaned against the vat wall. I put both hands on her buttocks and pulled them apart, then I lifted her out of the chocolate. As my head sunk below the chocolate I saw Michelle pull her body forward onto the platform, and then I was out of the chocolate again, hair dripping sauce and my head between her legs. Michelle stuck her butt out and I ate her out.

Behind me I heard moans and slurps and it seemed Donna and Chloe had independently discovered the same arrangement. Chloe lay on her back, still in her slip and bra, Donna licking at her pussy. Chloe's gasps were louder and more rapid than Michelle's, so I redoubled my efforts with the tongue and extracted a greater response from Michelle.

Blood pumped in my ears, and my legs quivered as I listened to Michelle and Chloe. Chloe came first, her gasps turning to shrieks, and Michelle followed a second later. When she'd finished shouting she rolled over and smiled at me. I reached out and caressed her breast.

We turned and saw Chloe already sitting up, one hand pawing through her sticky purse. Out of the purse were coming an assortment of dildos, vibrators, strap on dildos - all already chocolate covered.

Donna was looking down at the sex toys with a mixture of surprise and interest, but occasionally she kept glancing back at me. I knew what she was thinking. We hadn't finished what we'd started earlier in the rice pudding pool. Donna looked down at a dildo and I saw she was still breathing hard, as excited as ever.

She picked it up, looked at me with sultry eyes and slowly licked the tip. She stuck it in her mouth and BJed it, then slipped back into the chocolate. I went in after her. Michelle came in behind me and went over to Chloe.

At first Donna and I just felt each other up with our hands, not bothering to hold onto the sides of the vat, our heads slipping in and out of the chocolate. Donna held the dildo in one hand and it was rubbery but firm on my skin. Chocolate slowly trickled down our throats. Donna's warm hand was cupping my groin.

Suddenly I felt the tip of the dildo between my legs. I parted them and Donna quickly pushed it in. I gasped, this thick and heavy thing held tightly by the muscles of my cunt, and felt Donna twisting it around. Her eyes blinked at me above the chocolate. Little bubbles of air floated to the surface.

I felt the chocolate sauce sliding into my vagina, the dildo rubbing it in, and my loins loosened. I didn't know if it was the chocolate or my own juices but suddenly there was a lot of moisture in my cunt and the vibrator was moving freely back and forth. The sensation was intense.

Donna kept on pumping the dildo up and down, her body moving in time. Occasionally she'd bring her head up for air, or let it slip completely beneath the surface. Hair obscured her face. Just the sight of her disappearing under the chocolate was enough to make me gasp louder.

As this was happening Michelle and Chloe were kissing passionately. Michelle had pulled Chloe's slip and bra down to her waist, her breasts jiggling and chocolate covered. They rubbed their bodies together, both jerking and shoving violently in the chocolate because they were simultaneously penetrating each other with dildos.

All four of us were moving, and the chocolate was churning. Somehow the vibrations transmitted themselves through the liquid and we had full knowledge of what the other three in the vat were experiencing. There was something almost spiritual in our togetherness.

I came, my shoulders shuddering, a sudden drench of fluid in my vagina. It felt it shoot out past the dildo, into the chocolate sauce, covering Donna's hands. Donna felt the orgasm in my groin, and pulled the dildo out of the chocolate. Sauce slowly dripped from the dildo, but it had a glistening edge that told me it was covered in more than just sauce. Donna's smile told me she'd had the same thought. She licked at the dildo, slurping up the sauce, then stuck it in her mouth and sucked back and forth.

I felt giddy and faint. Hot blood pounded in my bosom. I moaned just watching her, and felt another orgasm. I had to reciprocate. Donna was licking the dildo again and I took it from her hands, plunged it into the chocolate, and pressed it against Donna's cunt. Donna parted her legs and I entered her. It went in easily, like an oiled piston, and Donna sighed. She had a hand on my head and was pushing down.

I went below the surface, gripped the dildo in both hands, and began to pump furiously. My heart pounded but I held my breath, and I felt Donna's body thrashing around as I fucked her. Waves of chocolate buffeted me from all directions, and I knew Michelle and Chloe were getting even more violent.

As I surfaced for air I heard Michelle and Chloe shrieking "Oh God" in unison. I saw them whirling around like they were in a whirlpool, Chloe flinging her head back, Michelle pounding her head against her breasts. They were orgasming together. Then Donna was pushing my head back down.

I rammed at her again with renewed intensity, while my head moved up around her belly. I kept my lips together and flicked my tongue out, running it up between her breasts. She felt the touch and pushed my head against her breasts. I took a chocolate-coated nipple in my teeth. Her breast bounced around beneath me as the dildo went in deeper and deeper. My fingers were brushing her pussy.

I came up for air a second time. Now I heard Donna's shrieks. I kept up the intensity of my thrusts the best I could, and moments later felt Donna's whole body of shudder. I felt a cool liquid seeping onto my fingers, and quickly pulled the dildo out of her cunt and brought it to my lips. Donna watched me, moaning softly, as I licked the dildo clean. I could taste her. I cleaned the base and then stuck the tip in my mouth, sucking her juices into me. It went down with the chocolate, a sweet cocktail of sugar and salt.

The chocolate sauce wasn't buffeting us as much because Chloe and Michelle were also calming down. They were moving away from the edge of the vat however and their limbs now kept bumping into ours.

I was still looking at Donna, and she at me, but the interruptions kept destroying the moment. And they, for their part, kept on touching us and soon we knew it wasn't accidental.

Finally we turned them around and moved in for a four way. Michelle and Chloe didn't protest and suddenly we were in a tangle of arms and legs, thuds and caresses, breasts and genitals. It was too violent and chaotic to be arousing, and soon we paired up again.

Donna and Michelle were the first two. Their eyes locked and suddenly they forgot me and Chloe. This is our day, they were thinking, let's celebrate our friendship.

That left Chloe and me and as I looked at her I felt as aroused as ever. We'd had one fake makeout session already; how would a real one go?

Chloe had changed totally. When she'd first shown up at the doorway she'd been timid and uncertain. Now her face glowed. She was bouncing up and down in the chocolate like someone who'd had the best day of their life. I think I loved her.

I made the first move, swimming through the chocolate and encircling her head in my arms. We bent over each other and kissed, our legs fluttering below the surface. I felt her body pressing against mine, skin sticking in the chocolate.

Behind us Michelle and Donna were climbing out of the chocolate. Donna lay down on the platform and Michelle lay down over her. They touched each other.

As Chloe and I kissed I wanted to explore more of her body but felt it should be Chloe to make the first step. So I pulled my head back and stuck out my chest. Chloe's hands ran down my neck, and with exquisite slowness moved to my breasts. I felt them cup the underside of my breasts, then lift them delicately, like they were the most fragile things in the world. Chloe bent her head and licked my breasts, one hand supporting them while the other moved down my belly. She sucked on my tits and now first hand moved to my back, cupping my butt and lifting me.

Her hand was at my crotch. Her fingers caressed my pubic hair, tugging at the roots and causing what felt like electrical shocks in my crotch. Then they were pressing against my vagina, and with sudden speed a finger penetrated. My shoulders jumped. The finger moved around and was quickly joined by another, while her thumb pressed on my clit.

Chloe did this for a bit but I could tell she had trouble with the chocolate. So I lifted myself up and sat on the platform, spreading my legs. Chloe moved her head into my crotch and licked.

I suddenly came, legs thrashing up and down, kicking up chocolate sauce. My hips bucked over and over.

Chloe was lifting herself up beside me. Her purse was behind me, still surrounded by sex toys, and Chloe took one. It was a loop of plastic with something cylindrical dangling from it, and it took a moment before I'd identified it as a strap-on dildo. Chloe buckled it around her waist, tightened the straps, and now a long black dildo jutted out from her pubic hair.

I'd never seen one of these before. I put my hand out curiously and rubbed the shaft up and down.

Chloe smiled at me and slipped back into the chocolate. She turned to face me and spread her arms invitingly.

I looked behind her and saw Michelle and Donna sixty-nining. Chocolate dripped from their bodies. Then I looked down at Chloe and lowered myself into the chocolate.

Chloe brought her arms around me and held me close, guiding me down. I wrapped my legs around her waist. She held me by the ass and brought me down onto the dildo. One moment I felt it pushing at my crotch, then I moved and it was all the way inside my vagina, like a pump slotting into place.

I felt Chloe's pubic hair entangled with mine. Her legs rubbed against my thighs. But hardly any of it mattered because the dildo filled me completely. I shrieked with the excruciating pleasure of it.

Chloe began to buck her hips. I moved up and down on the strap-on dildo, felt the friction in my muscles, and moaned.

With Chloe supporting my body as she fucked me it was easy for me to reciprocate affection. I rubbed her breasts, and tickled her nipples with my fingers. I brought my mouth down and lifted them out of the chocolate, I stuffed them into my mouth and tried to engulf them. I felt her heart beating in the flesh. I bent my head over Chloe's shoulder, my groin stretching and allowing Chloe to fuck me harder, and let my hands slip down and grasp Chloe's buttocks. I slipped one hand around the front and by stretching I was able to slip underneath the strap-on and get two fingertips against her cunt. I tweaked her clit between the tips of my fingers and Chloe started pumping faster.

Her hands were under my breasts, pushing them together, and she put her face in the chocolate and licked them. Then she let them fall and put her hands around my butt. She began to pull me up in time with her thrusts, moving me even harder over the dildo. Then she pulled my buttocks apart and put two fingers up my asshole.

I shrieked louder than ever. I was unable to think. My body felt like an ocean was crashing inside it. I was sure I'd been orgasming for at least a minute.

Behind Chloe Michelle and Donna were done eating each other out and had slipped back into the chocolate. They moved over to us and pressed their bodies into our backs. They put their hands into the gap between our bodies, feeling us up on the front, on the back, anywhere there was skin.

Now I'd entirely lost track of who was doing what to whom. I knew I could feel two separate pairs of hands on my breasts, and a dildo was being pumped in and out of my ass, in rhythm with the one in my cunt. The double penetration was turning my insides to jelly.

Chloe pumped at my cunt and sucked on Michelle's fingers and felt my hand on her clit and Donna's hands on her buttocks and her breasts rubbing her shoulders. Then a new set of hands rubbed at her breasts and she couldn't contain herself any longer, she threw her head back and shrieked to the heavens.

Michelle moaned and sighed and shouted and their bodies shuddered against ours. Still I orgasmed.

We kept at it like that for a full minute, the four of us joined in a cresting orgasm, transported to a higher plane. Four bodies moving as one.

The end came as gradually my shrieks became softer and less rapid. Chloe's did the same, and Michelle and Donna weren't pressing up against us quite as heavily as before.

Slowly we drifted apart. I pulled the dildo out of my ass and Chloe slowly removed hers from my cunt. We all reclined against the walls of the vat, heads and shoulders and breasts out of the chocolate, and just got our breath back. Chloe pulled a dildo out of her cunt that had somehow gotten in there and let it float away.

We all looked at each other, not quite believing what had just transpired. Nobody said anything.

Finally I felt like I had my breath back. The expressions of ecstasy on our faces had faded, and everyone looked normal again. Or as normal as it's possible to be, naked and swimming in chocolate.

Chloe was the one exception. She had a furtive grin on her face and was looking around, darting from one face to the next.

"Say," she said finally, "do you guys want a job?"

Great Story. Great mega mess, clean up and more mess.

Man that is some good stuff. I can't wait to read some more!!

note to self never read this story when have to drive 4hrs afterwards. wow. couldnt stop thinking bout it its that good. i hope this is not the last.

Amazing story

PLEASE say you will continue this serial!!!!! We NEED more!

Wow. Now I want to be in the middle of that.
4 women in a vat of chocolate, it must be Pimm's O'clock!

I have now read this one through this point twice. A GREAT read! many a fun fantasy has sprung to mind from it!

Thanks Scudo1us for bringing this back to the top of the pile. It really is a great read ghilton with fantastic description. One that you can sit back and bash the bishop while you read it

more than that, it is also something well written that you can easily tell that time was put into it. Also, for simplicity's sake, I go by just "Scud".

Now then, where the hell did parts seven and eight get off to?