Part 1 only, no gunging here yet, just some building of anticipation.
The Fete of Miss Blossom
Part one
Summer term was wending its way to a close at Sploshington Girls' School. Exams had come and gone and the only serious piece of business that was left was the Grand School Fete. The school's Charity Committee, consisting of several girls from the Upper Sixth and chaired by the headmaster, was therefore meeting to decide upon their activities for the event. It was not going well.
Half a dozen ideas had been floated, and all had been almost immediately shot down, either for reasons of cost, safety or plain stupidness. They were in the desperate process of trying to recall previous year's fetes and whether or not they could be rehashed.
Daisy was desperately bored and had been playing idly with her long auburn hair for the last twenty minutes. She was one of the most beautiful girls at the school, a delicate, pale face, a well proportioned body of medium height and a supreme elegance in her deportment. Charity Committee was usually fun, but this was deathly.
Mr. Brown, the headmaster cleared his throat and prepared to make an announcement.
"Now girls, you've done well so far this year, but we appear to be getting nowhere fast here. It's no good just trotting out old ideas, and the new ones just haven't been viable. I suggest that we call it a day and all go home tonight to think about a way of fundraising that is both original, safe and practical. Then we can meet again tomorrow and see what you've come up with."
The girls needed no further encouragement to bail and happily fled to their respective homes.
Despite the entreaties of the headmaster, the next day's meeting fared no better. Plenty of ideas were mooted, but their quality if anything had deteriorated overnight. The discussions had been meandering for over half an hour, and Daisy was once again twisting her locks around her finger and gazing out of the window. She had been paying very little attention, and just then started to tune in to what Mr. Brown was saying.
"... I had hoped not to have to bring this up, as I'm not sure I approve. But Sploshington Girls' School has a long history of fundraising, especially at the annual fete, and it is important to keep up the tradition. I may have the solution to out problems. A teacher came to me yesterday with an idea that may well raise a great deal of money. It involves much individual sacrifice on behalf of the individual involved, and they deserve huge credit for their efforts and no ridicule at all. One of the staff has volunteered to let themselves be gunged on the day of the fete."
Daisy's attention was most certainly not wandering now, she was rapt. She had seen many gungings on kids' tv in her formative years, and had once thought it would be fun. But now she was eighteen she thought of it as childish, not something an adult would do. Especially an adult in a position of responsibility. How humiliating would it be for a teacher to be gunged with their pupils and their parents looking on? She wondered who it could be that had set themselves up like this. Mrs James, the old boot of a games teacher was certainly endowed with enough school spirit, but would she really do something like this? Miss Collins the French teacher had taught at the school for thirty years and had developed a reputation for considerable eccentricity in that time, but her quirkiness had never manifested itself in quite this way. Maybe - no it couldn't be - Mr. Brown was referring to himself. She had to know.
"Err... who exactly is this person?"
"It is," the headmaster replied, the English teacher, Miss Blossom."
Daisy, indeed the whole committee, was stunned.
She was possibly the last person any of them would have thought of. Miss Blossom was newly qualified, still only in her mid twenties, and had arrived at the school like a breath of fresh air. She was a natural teacher, knowledgeable about her subject and talented at passing that knowledge on. She was extremely popular with all the pupils, both the little year sevens and the older upper sixthers, and also with the rest of the staff.
In addition Miss Blossom was stunningly attractive, and many a Sploshington girl had a secret Sapphic crush on her.
This was very strange. Why on earth would such a cool, likeable, beautiful teacher submit herself to such an ordeal in front of everyone, to let herself be totally messed up. This was very strange. Mr. Brown continued.
"I think that we should admire her dedication to the school, especially in one so new to it. However, I think that it is only right that I only let her do this if maximum revenue is extracted from it. Therefore the gunging will only go ahead if each and every year donates at least £300 pounds and if a minimum of £2000 pounds is given on the day of the fete itself."
"Wow," said Kirsty, "that's a tall order."
"Yeah," said Laura, who was top of the class in maths, "that'll almost break the record."
"Indeed." Replied the headmaster. "Now we come to a division of labour. I shall endeavour to take care of the financial side, setting up donations, et cetera. I want you girls to take care of the practicalities. Miss Blossom wishes to meet with you after school. You and she can work out a suitable method for the , er, the gunging."
In contrast to the previous day, whose meeting ended in lazy tedium, this meeting ended with the girls leaving excited, and somewhat shocked.
Daisy sat through the rest of the day in a sort of trance - she was so intrigued by Mr. Brown's announcement. In fact she was so eager to meet the enigma Miss. Blossom that she rushed from her final lesson and was the first to enter the teacher's classroom. She had her back to her at first, bending over her desk. The smart black trouser suit that was her customary wear clung to her shapely rear very nicely and the short heels on her leather boots elevated her posture nicely. Her flowing hair was a glorious natural blonde, of medium length and tumbled casually down her back. She turned round. The jacket of her suit was cut close, emphasising her svelte figure and the crisp white shirt fitted tightly round her more than ample breasts.
Daisy gazed into her startling blue eyes and admired her wonderful face, her cute button nose, her full red lips, her striking cheekbones. Was this really the woman who had volunteered of her own accord for this treatment?
"Hi there Daisy," said Miss Blossom. Daisy was rendered speechless by the goddess in front of her. Fortunately the rest of the girls came in in a gaggle, laughing and talking excitedly.
"Welcome everybody. Take a seat." Everyone settled down, the girls looking a little uncertainly at the teacher. There was a slightly awkward silence.
"So then," said Miss Blossom, "What has the Charity Committee come up with?" The girls looked at each other.
"Well...," began Alice hesitantly, "how about cream pies? We could, err, pie you in the face." Miss Blossom considered this for a moment.
"Pies are all well and good, nothing wrong with a good old three stooges type pie in the face. However, Mr. Brown set a very high target for raising money, and I think the people will want to see a little more than my face messed up." The girls looked at each other again.
"So," said Fran, "how about sponges? We could throw wet sponges at you, you could be sitting on a chair, or standing up or even, err, I suppose, err, in some stocks? That would get you more messed up."
Miss Blossom shook her head.
"The trouble is you're all thinking too small. I don't just want some namby pamby stuff like wet sponges." The stunning blonde crossed her legs and leaned forward. "I want to be totally, completely, utterly messed up. I want a huge sliming. I want to be obliterated. I want the most thourough, gooey, horrible gunging that you can think of."
Daisy had been hanging off her every word, and suddenly burst out:
"Leave it to us Miss Blossom, we'll give you a proper gunging!"
The others were surprised at this interjection, but Miss Blossom just beamed at her.
"That's the spirit! No messing about with mess! Slime me good!" The girls finally caught up with the enthusiastic mood of the other two and burst out in a fit of giggles.
"Don't hold back - give the people what they want! And I tell you what," she looked conspiratorial her smile got even wider, "why don't you keep the method a secret, that'll build up anticipation, get everyone donating faster. And keep it a secret from me, too. It'll be a massive big sloppy surprise for me then!"
"Ok Miss Blossom!" said Kirsty.
"Anything you say Miss B.!" said Laura.
Daisy was bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. What on earth would this woman look like in slime? Would she wear that suit? Would she let herself be trashed to a gooey shapeless lump in that, from the starting point of such smart, authoritative perspective? Daisy hoped so.
"Right then Sploshington Charity Committee," said the suited beauty, "I've got some marking to do. And you have a gunging to arrange!"
That evening all the girls had an impromptu planning meeting at Fran's house. This was however, not exactly a formal event, pizza was ordered, consumed and they crashed in Laura's bedroom and talked about girl stuff for a good hour and a half before touching on the subject of Miss Blossom.
"I wonder why she's doing it?" said Kirsty.
"Maybe she's trying to get involved with the fundraising - it's a big part of being at Sploshington. She's new, she wants to be liked I suppose," said Fran.
"Yeah, but she's really popular already," said Laura.
"Maybe she just wants to help out? We were really struggling before she volunteered," said Alice.
"Maybe," said Daisy dreamily, "she just thinks it'll be really fun."
"Well whatever the reason," said Fran, "we've got our job to do. Time to consult the source of all knowledge." She switched on her laptop. "Google!"
A few minutes of earnest searching produced a very promising looking site.
"Ok, this website sells barrels of stuff called natrosol," said Fran.
"Looks cheap enough for us," said mathematician Laura.
"And they do next day delivery," said Kirsty, "which is good. The fete is so close."
While the others were considering the practicalities Daisy was staring fixatedly at an accompanying set of pictures. They showed a dark haired woman, neither particularly attractive nor particularly dowdy, dressed in shorts and a baggy tshirt. She was sitting in a booth, and in the first picture was clean, albeit with a rather apprehensive look on her face. The subsequent images showed her screaming as a deluge of purple gunge falling from above, covering her entirely with the sticky slime. The final shot was of the aftermath, the woman smiling, the clean flashing white of her teeth her only identifiable feature, contrasting with the surrounding mess.
"That looks sooo cool," said Daisy, enthralled by the sight of the woman's downfall.
"Errr, yes Daiz, if you say so," said Fran, looking at her rather oddly.
"I suppose it'll definitely give her a proper gunging," said Alice.
"Hmm...," said Laura, "three barrels should be about right."
"But where are we going to keep the stuff before the fete?" asked Kirsty.
"And how will be get it there?" added Alice.
"Well my parents are away this week and they've taken the car," said Daisy, "so there'll be room in our garage. It's a double."
"Sounds good," said Laura, "and you have your own car, so that'll take care of transport."
"Ok, I'll go ahead and order," said Fran, "you're certainly getting in to the spirit of things Daiz!" Daisy blushed.
"It's getting late," said Kirsty, "I need to get going."
"I think we all do," said Laura.
"We still need to solve the problem of the actual gunging method," said Fran.
"Well," said Alice, "why don't we sleep on it?" The rest of the girls concurred, and they all wended their individual ways home.
As Daisy drifted off to sleep she reflected on a truly amazing day. Firstly Mr. Brown's announcement, completely out of the blue, and her own fascination with it. Then the meeting with Miss Blossom, the willing victim, and her seeming joy at the thought of the fate (ha ha!) awaiting her. And finally the website, the images on it, and the way they utterly captured her imagination.
Daisy dreamed.
Her dreams were full of gunge. Thick gooey, slimy, messy gunge. Again and again she had visions of purple gunk falling, obliterating everything in its path. Sometimes it fell on the woman from the website photos causing to scream with a mixture of shock and excitement, sometimes it fell on Miss Blossom, dressed in her nice trouser suit that soon became unrecognizable, as did her pretty face and blonde hair. And sometimes it was her in the firing line, the purple slime fell on her, covering her from head to toe.
Towards the end of the night she dreamed of huge pools of gunge, and of diving head first into them, immersing herself totally and completely. She dreamed of swimming around in it, revelling it.
In her dreams, Daisy loved gunge.
The Fete of Miss Blossom
by qdaved » 20 Jun 2007, 19:54
Thanks for the feedback, constructve criticism, suggestions etc. warmly welcomed (especially the finding of the no doubt numerous spelling and gramatical errors).
Part two (of four) is ready and will be posted soon.
Part three is being written as we speak.
Part two (of four) is ready and will be posted soon.
Part three is being written as we speak.
by qdaved » 21 Jun 2007, 14:31
Here's the next installment. Again no actual gunge yet, just more build-up.
Part 2
Daisy was gently awakened from her pleasant slumbers by the insistent ringing of the telephone. Bleary eyed she roused herself, pulled on a dressing gown and dragged herself to the hall to answer the phone.
"Hey Daisy," spoke a voice brightly.
"Oh, hello Fran," replied Daisy in a drowsy tone, "you're an early bird."
"Were you still in bed Daiz? You're such a sleepy head! I've bean up for ages."
"Yeah, I didn't have the most restful night's sleep."
"Anyway, I was ringing to let you know that I've ordered the gunge from the website."
"Oh really?" Daisy was wide awake now.
"Yeah, and it'll be delivered to your house this evening."
"Cool, I'll look out for it."
"I'd better let you get dressed and have breakfast, see you at school, Daiz!"
"Bye Fran, thanks for calling." Well that was something to look forward to.
No sooner had Daisy finished her cornflakes than the phone rang once more. This time it was Kirsty.
"Hi Daiz," she began.
"Hi Kirsty, what's the matter?"
"Do you have time to come round to my house before school?" Daisy was doubtful.
"I'm not sure about that."
"It'll only be for ten minutes or so,"
"I don't know, I'm running a little late this morning..."
"Oh come on Daisy, you've still got time! I've got something to show you with regards to our, er, 'delivery' problem."
"I'll be there in a quarter of an hour," said Daisy immediately.
She hurriedly gulped down the remains of her coffee, showered and dressed in record time, grabbed her schoolbooks and rushed out of her house like a whirlwind, running down the street to Kirsty's house with her coat tails flying behind her. By the time she rang the front doorbell she was breathless and flustered, and was surprised to be greeted by Alice rather than the occupant.
"Oh good," said Alice, "you're the last one. Kirsty's dieing to show us something." Daisy entered the living room and saw that indeed all the rest of the girls of the charity committee were in attendance.
"Right," said Kirsty, "now that we're quorate I can reveal my plan, the answer to the question that was posed last night."
"Get on with it Kirsty," said Laura, "we'll be late to school if we're not careful."
"Come on out to the garden then," said Kirsty. The rest of the girls trooped after her and out of the back door.
"TA-DAHHH!" yelled Kirsty, "I thought of it last night."
Before them stood a paddling pool. It was, however, rather misleading to refer to it as such, it was absolutely enormous. The bright blue walls were several feet high, and the diameter of the circular pool was over ten feet across.
"When did you get that?" exclaimed Laura.
"We got it last month - it was going to be unveiled at a big summer barbecue, but this seemed too good an opportunity to be missed."
"It's huuuuge!" said Alice.
"Certainly is," replied Kirsty, "but despite the size it's very easy to collapse and transport. Fill that with slime and we can deliver a gunging to Miss Blossom beyond her wildest dreams."
"Are we sure about this?" said Fran. "Isn't this going to be a bit over the top?"
All this time Daisy had been silent. She was rooted to the spot, gazing at the blue plastic expanse before her. Filling something this big with gunge was going to look fantastic, it would be almost like the enormous slime pits of last night's fantasies. And how good would Miss Blossom look in there? She imagined her in her suit, bobbling up and down in the muck. And what on earth would it feel like in there, to be literally swimming in gunge? It was an interesting thought.
"I think it this will be absolutely fine," said Daisy slowly.
The girls considered the pool for a moment.
"One question," said Laura, "how are we going to get her in there?"
"Ah", said Kirsty, "that's the bit that I hadn't thought of."
"Hmmm," pondered Alice, "how's about we just pick her up and thow her in?"
"Yeah, that could work," said Fran, "after all, noone's going to be too bothered exactly how she gets slimed just so long as she's a complete mess at the end."
"Ye-es," said Daisy uncertainly. That didn't seem quite right to her, it didn't quite fit in to her vision. Still, it was true that their beautiful teacher would still be reduced to a messy wreck.
"Well let's have that as a plan for now," said Laura, ever practically minded, "and if we come up with anything better between now and the fete we can always change our minds."
"That sounds fine to me," said Kirsty.
"And me," said Alice.
"And me," added Laura.
"Yeah, I suppose it'll do," said Daisy, still not wholly convinced.
The girls realised that time was moving on, and quickly hurried off to school.
There were more surprises in store for Daisy when she got to school. At registration gave her a note from the woodwork teacher.
"Daisy, please come and see me in my workshop at breaktime. Mr Drake."
This was very puzzling. She knew Mr. Drake of course, and had been in his class once upon a time, but she had dropped woodwork as a subject long ago, and she doubted that she had even said hello to him in the past three months. Could she be in trouble for some reason? But what on earth for? Daisy was always well behaved, there was nothing she could be reprimanded for, especially from this teacher.
She puzzled over this for the whole of the first period, but didn't come up with any answers, and walked off to Mr. Drakes's workshop in a mystified state. She walked into the workshop to be greeted by Laura, Fran and Alice. Things became clearer. It seemed everything these days was revolving around the charity committee.
"Hello girls," greeted Mr. Drake, "I expect you're wondering why I asked you all here."
"Is it to do with the gunging of Miss Blossom?" enquired Daisy, eagerly.
"Well done Daisy, that's right. I heard of my colleague's volunteering, and I spent last night wondering how exactly I could help get her gunged."
"Oh really?" said Daisy.
"Err, for the sake of raising money for charity of course, and school spirit of course." Mr. Drake cleared his throat and flushed slightly. "Anyway, I've come up with this." He took some technical looking drawings out of a folder and presented them to the girls.
"Here are my design for Sploshington School's very own gunge tank! You see the person sits down here and then..."
"But Mr. Drake," interrupted Laura, "we've already decided how to gunge her." Mr. Drake looked crestfallen.
"Oh, have you?" he said in a disappointed voice.
"Yes," said Kirsty, "we're going get my pool, fill it with slime and then throw her in it." Mr. Drake thought for a moment.
"Pool, eh? How are you going to get her in it?"
"We thought we'd just pick her up and throw her in by hand," said Alice.
"Hmmm... now if you change this bit here... bit of two-by-four here..." he took out his pencil and began busily altering his drawings. "Raise it up a bit, that's no problem... and a spring mechanism at the back of the chair..."
The girls looked at each other quizzically.
"Change the loading mechanism... that'll make it much easier in fact...and...Voila! Throw her in? This will be much better!" He displayed his modified blueprints proudly.
"What is it?" asked Daisy, waiting with baited breath.
"It's a gungetank-cum-dunkseat! Patent pending! The victim sits here-" he indicated a chair on the plans. "And this lever is pulled forwards. A tube connected to the pool syphons up some of the slime to a tank here. The tank is then primed. Pushing the lever the other way releases the contents of the tank directly over the victim's head, covering her in the slime." Mr. Drake paused for a moment as if envisaging the moment.
"Then it's time to administer the coup-de-gras. Pulling this second lever here-" he indicated another part of the diagram, "activities a spring
mechanism. The victim is then plunged into the waiting gunge pool face first."
"Wow!" exclaimed Daisy, "that sounds incredible!" She and Mr. Drake grinned at each other, happily imagining the horrible sliming being planned. The voice of Laura broke in and brought them both back to earth.
"That's all very well," said Laura, "I suppose it will be better than just throwing her in, but are you sure that it'll be ready in time? And how much will it cost?"
"Don't you worry," said Mr. Drake, "I can knock this baby up in no time. And as for cost, why I've got all I need to build it right here in the workshop!" He beamed at the girls. "Well? What do you think?"
"Perfect!" yelled Daisy, "that's just what we need!" She imagined what Mr. Drakes' device would look like once it was built and once it was connected up to Kirsty's pool. Yes, this seemed right. In fact, it seemed very right, the uncertainty that she had felt earlier had totally melted away. This was going to be the gunging of Miss Blossom's (and indeed her) dreams.
It was after tea and Daisy was just about to embark on the washing up. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
Who could that be? she wondered to herself. Of course! She ran to the front door and flung it open. Standing outside was a man in blue overalls holding a clipboard.
"A delivery for you," he said, and gestured to a white van parked at the side of the street. "Got the stuff in the back."
"Err, thanks," said Daisy.
"Could you sign here please?" asked the man whilst proffering the clipboard and a Biro. She obliged and they both walked to the back of the man's van. He struggled for a little while with his cargo, but eventually the delivery man finished unloading.
"Where are these going?" he asked.
"Oh, er, in the garage for now, but I'll have to get the keys. Take the stuff over there to it and I'll open the door from the inside." Ten minutes later the delivery man maneuvered his load into the garage, and was standing next to a somewhat flustered Daisy taking stock.
She looked at what had been left for her properly for the first time. There were three dark grey barrels standing in front of her. They stood there broodingly, enigmatically. They were gigantic, she couldn't wrap her arms around them, the only way the man had gotten them inside was due to the small wheels on the bottom that allowed some maneuverability. They were very tall as well, if she stood in on of them she would only just be able to see over the sides. Stand in one of them? Why on earth did she think that?
The delivery man broke her reverie.
"There we are," he said, "three barrels of natrosol gunge, assorted colours."
"Thanks," said Daisy.
"What are they for? Personal use?" Daisy gave a little laugh.
"No, not at all. They're for a school fete that's coming up. I'm on the school's charity committee, and we're going to gunge a teacher."
"Ah, I see," said the man "well, I hope you raise a lot of money." Daisy thought for a moment.
"Err, was that a joke, or do you ever take orders for 'personal use'?"
He looked at her rather oddly, then said slowly: "You'd be surprised. You'd be very surprised."
After he had gotten back into his van and driven off, Daisy went back to the garage and, with difficulty, managed to remove the lid of one of the barrels. It was so tall she had to grab a set of stepladders to stand on in order to get a better view. The gunge contained in this one was purple, exactly the same shade as in the pictures on the website. It looked different in real life, though. The surface shimmered and glistened wetly. It looked very dark and mysterious, especially in the low light of the garage.
Daisy gazed at the gunge for a few minutes, standing very still. She thought to herself. Then she put the top back on, climbed down from the ladder, and went back to the kitchen to finish the washing up.
That night Daisy's dreams were once more filled with gunge. The memory of the barrel in the garage loomed large, as did the swimming pool in Kirsty's garden and the drawings that Mr. Drake had showed them. There was a slightly different feel to the dreams tonight as well. The woman in the dunktank from the website she had seen the night before featured much less than previously. Instead she thought much more of gungings of Miss Blossom, briefly resplendent in her smart suit, then reduced to a slimy, messy heap.
And she also dreamed much more of herself. Of herself in the very same situations as Miss Blossom. Daisy was infatuated with gunge.
Part 2
Daisy was gently awakened from her pleasant slumbers by the insistent ringing of the telephone. Bleary eyed she roused herself, pulled on a dressing gown and dragged herself to the hall to answer the phone.
"Hey Daisy," spoke a voice brightly.
"Oh, hello Fran," replied Daisy in a drowsy tone, "you're an early bird."
"Were you still in bed Daiz? You're such a sleepy head! I've bean up for ages."
"Yeah, I didn't have the most restful night's sleep."
"Anyway, I was ringing to let you know that I've ordered the gunge from the website."
"Oh really?" Daisy was wide awake now.
"Yeah, and it'll be delivered to your house this evening."
"Cool, I'll look out for it."
"I'd better let you get dressed and have breakfast, see you at school, Daiz!"
"Bye Fran, thanks for calling." Well that was something to look forward to.
No sooner had Daisy finished her cornflakes than the phone rang once more. This time it was Kirsty.
"Hi Daiz," she began.
"Hi Kirsty, what's the matter?"
"Do you have time to come round to my house before school?" Daisy was doubtful.
"I'm not sure about that."
"It'll only be for ten minutes or so,"
"I don't know, I'm running a little late this morning..."
"Oh come on Daisy, you've still got time! I've got something to show you with regards to our, er, 'delivery' problem."
"I'll be there in a quarter of an hour," said Daisy immediately.
She hurriedly gulped down the remains of her coffee, showered and dressed in record time, grabbed her schoolbooks and rushed out of her house like a whirlwind, running down the street to Kirsty's house with her coat tails flying behind her. By the time she rang the front doorbell she was breathless and flustered, and was surprised to be greeted by Alice rather than the occupant.
"Oh good," said Alice, "you're the last one. Kirsty's dieing to show us something." Daisy entered the living room and saw that indeed all the rest of the girls of the charity committee were in attendance.
"Right," said Kirsty, "now that we're quorate I can reveal my plan, the answer to the question that was posed last night."
"Get on with it Kirsty," said Laura, "we'll be late to school if we're not careful."
"Come on out to the garden then," said Kirsty. The rest of the girls trooped after her and out of the back door.
"TA-DAHHH!" yelled Kirsty, "I thought of it last night."
Before them stood a paddling pool. It was, however, rather misleading to refer to it as such, it was absolutely enormous. The bright blue walls were several feet high, and the diameter of the circular pool was over ten feet across.
"When did you get that?" exclaimed Laura.
"We got it last month - it was going to be unveiled at a big summer barbecue, but this seemed too good an opportunity to be missed."
"It's huuuuge!" said Alice.
"Certainly is," replied Kirsty, "but despite the size it's very easy to collapse and transport. Fill that with slime and we can deliver a gunging to Miss Blossom beyond her wildest dreams."
"Are we sure about this?" said Fran. "Isn't this going to be a bit over the top?"
All this time Daisy had been silent. She was rooted to the spot, gazing at the blue plastic expanse before her. Filling something this big with gunge was going to look fantastic, it would be almost like the enormous slime pits of last night's fantasies. And how good would Miss Blossom look in there? She imagined her in her suit, bobbling up and down in the muck. And what on earth would it feel like in there, to be literally swimming in gunge? It was an interesting thought.
"I think it this will be absolutely fine," said Daisy slowly.
The girls considered the pool for a moment.
"One question," said Laura, "how are we going to get her in there?"
"Ah", said Kirsty, "that's the bit that I hadn't thought of."
"Hmmm," pondered Alice, "how's about we just pick her up and thow her in?"
"Yeah, that could work," said Fran, "after all, noone's going to be too bothered exactly how she gets slimed just so long as she's a complete mess at the end."
"Ye-es," said Daisy uncertainly. That didn't seem quite right to her, it didn't quite fit in to her vision. Still, it was true that their beautiful teacher would still be reduced to a messy wreck.
"Well let's have that as a plan for now," said Laura, ever practically minded, "and if we come up with anything better between now and the fete we can always change our minds."
"That sounds fine to me," said Kirsty.
"And me," said Alice.
"And me," added Laura.
"Yeah, I suppose it'll do," said Daisy, still not wholly convinced.
The girls realised that time was moving on, and quickly hurried off to school.
There were more surprises in store for Daisy when she got to school. At registration gave her a note from the woodwork teacher.
"Daisy, please come and see me in my workshop at breaktime. Mr Drake."
This was very puzzling. She knew Mr. Drake of course, and had been in his class once upon a time, but she had dropped woodwork as a subject long ago, and she doubted that she had even said hello to him in the past three months. Could she be in trouble for some reason? But what on earth for? Daisy was always well behaved, there was nothing she could be reprimanded for, especially from this teacher.
She puzzled over this for the whole of the first period, but didn't come up with any answers, and walked off to Mr. Drakes's workshop in a mystified state. She walked into the workshop to be greeted by Laura, Fran and Alice. Things became clearer. It seemed everything these days was revolving around the charity committee.
"Hello girls," greeted Mr. Drake, "I expect you're wondering why I asked you all here."
"Is it to do with the gunging of Miss Blossom?" enquired Daisy, eagerly.
"Well done Daisy, that's right. I heard of my colleague's volunteering, and I spent last night wondering how exactly I could help get her gunged."
"Oh really?" said Daisy.
"Err, for the sake of raising money for charity of course, and school spirit of course." Mr. Drake cleared his throat and flushed slightly. "Anyway, I've come up with this." He took some technical looking drawings out of a folder and presented them to the girls.
"Here are my design for Sploshington School's very own gunge tank! You see the person sits down here and then..."
"But Mr. Drake," interrupted Laura, "we've already decided how to gunge her." Mr. Drake looked crestfallen.
"Oh, have you?" he said in a disappointed voice.
"Yes," said Kirsty, "we're going get my pool, fill it with slime and then throw her in it." Mr. Drake thought for a moment.
"Pool, eh? How are you going to get her in it?"
"We thought we'd just pick her up and throw her in by hand," said Alice.
"Hmmm... now if you change this bit here... bit of two-by-four here..." he took out his pencil and began busily altering his drawings. "Raise it up a bit, that's no problem... and a spring mechanism at the back of the chair..."
The girls looked at each other quizzically.
"Change the loading mechanism... that'll make it much easier in fact...and...Voila! Throw her in? This will be much better!" He displayed his modified blueprints proudly.
"What is it?" asked Daisy, waiting with baited breath.
"It's a gungetank-cum-dunkseat! Patent pending! The victim sits here-" he indicated a chair on the plans. "And this lever is pulled forwards. A tube connected to the pool syphons up some of the slime to a tank here. The tank is then primed. Pushing the lever the other way releases the contents of the tank directly over the victim's head, covering her in the slime." Mr. Drake paused for a moment as if envisaging the moment.
"Then it's time to administer the coup-de-gras. Pulling this second lever here-" he indicated another part of the diagram, "activities a spring
mechanism. The victim is then plunged into the waiting gunge pool face first."
"Wow!" exclaimed Daisy, "that sounds incredible!" She and Mr. Drake grinned at each other, happily imagining the horrible sliming being planned. The voice of Laura broke in and brought them both back to earth.
"That's all very well," said Laura, "I suppose it will be better than just throwing her in, but are you sure that it'll be ready in time? And how much will it cost?"
"Don't you worry," said Mr. Drake, "I can knock this baby up in no time. And as for cost, why I've got all I need to build it right here in the workshop!" He beamed at the girls. "Well? What do you think?"
"Perfect!" yelled Daisy, "that's just what we need!" She imagined what Mr. Drakes' device would look like once it was built and once it was connected up to Kirsty's pool. Yes, this seemed right. In fact, it seemed very right, the uncertainty that she had felt earlier had totally melted away. This was going to be the gunging of Miss Blossom's (and indeed her) dreams.
It was after tea and Daisy was just about to embark on the washing up. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
Who could that be? she wondered to herself. Of course! She ran to the front door and flung it open. Standing outside was a man in blue overalls holding a clipboard.
"A delivery for you," he said, and gestured to a white van parked at the side of the street. "Got the stuff in the back."
"Err, thanks," said Daisy.
"Could you sign here please?" asked the man whilst proffering the clipboard and a Biro. She obliged and they both walked to the back of the man's van. He struggled for a little while with his cargo, but eventually the delivery man finished unloading.
"Where are these going?" he asked.
"Oh, er, in the garage for now, but I'll have to get the keys. Take the stuff over there to it and I'll open the door from the inside." Ten minutes later the delivery man maneuvered his load into the garage, and was standing next to a somewhat flustered Daisy taking stock.
She looked at what had been left for her properly for the first time. There were three dark grey barrels standing in front of her. They stood there broodingly, enigmatically. They were gigantic, she couldn't wrap her arms around them, the only way the man had gotten them inside was due to the small wheels on the bottom that allowed some maneuverability. They were very tall as well, if she stood in on of them she would only just be able to see over the sides. Stand in one of them? Why on earth did she think that?
The delivery man broke her reverie.
"There we are," he said, "three barrels of natrosol gunge, assorted colours."
"Thanks," said Daisy.
"What are they for? Personal use?" Daisy gave a little laugh.
"No, not at all. They're for a school fete that's coming up. I'm on the school's charity committee, and we're going to gunge a teacher."
"Ah, I see," said the man "well, I hope you raise a lot of money." Daisy thought for a moment.
"Err, was that a joke, or do you ever take orders for 'personal use'?"
He looked at her rather oddly, then said slowly: "You'd be surprised. You'd be very surprised."
After he had gotten back into his van and driven off, Daisy went back to the garage and, with difficulty, managed to remove the lid of one of the barrels. It was so tall she had to grab a set of stepladders to stand on in order to get a better view. The gunge contained in this one was purple, exactly the same shade as in the pictures on the website. It looked different in real life, though. The surface shimmered and glistened wetly. It looked very dark and mysterious, especially in the low light of the garage.
Daisy gazed at the gunge for a few minutes, standing very still. She thought to herself. Then she put the top back on, climbed down from the ladder, and went back to the kitchen to finish the washing up.
That night Daisy's dreams were once more filled with gunge. The memory of the barrel in the garage loomed large, as did the swimming pool in Kirsty's garden and the drawings that Mr. Drake had showed them. There was a slightly different feel to the dreams tonight as well. The woman in the dunktank from the website she had seen the night before featured much less than previously. Instead she thought much more of gungings of Miss Blossom, briefly resplendent in her smart suit, then reduced to a slimy, messy heap.
And she also dreamed much more of herself. Of herself in the very same situations as Miss Blossom. Daisy was infatuated with gunge.
by captain sensible » 21 Jun 2007, 18:15
You're certainly building the suspense nicely... Sometimes the anticipation is half the fun!
- captain sensible
- Posts: 77 [ View ]
- Joined: 19 Jun 2007, 16:24
- Location: Plymouth, UK
by qdaved » 23 Jun 2007, 00:07
Here's the third part, things are picking up:
Part Three
Daisy had always been an academically able pupil and her concentration levels were usually high, but the next day she could not focus on anything at all. She had reached the point of leaving her house before she realised that she had odd socks on, and in every lesson so far the teacher had rebuked her for not paying attention.
The visions of gunge had stayed in her mind after waking, she could think of nothing else; she was obsessed. Memories of the barrel, the woman from the website, Miss Blossom in her suit saying: "I want to be totally, completely, utterly messed up. I want a huge sliming. I want to be obliterated. I want the most thorough, gooey, horrible gunging that you can think of." The memory of the smile on her face as she said it.
She also thought of her being gunged in Miss Blossoms place, of her being totally, completely, utterly messed up. This troubled her greatly. What was wrong with her? Why was she imagining her own slimy destruction? She kept recalling the word of the delivery man also: "You'd be surprised." Maybe it wasn't so unusual to think a gunging would be fun.
Her mind kept revolving, the same thought patterns turning round and round in her head. Gunge, I want a huge sliming, you'd be surprised. Round and around and around...
After her final lesson she found herself walking along a corridor to her locker when she dropped her books all over the floor for the fourth time that day. As she was on her knees picking them up she heard a familiar voice:
"Hello there Daisy. Bit of a klutz today aren't we?"
She gasped and looked up. There before her was the object of her fantasies, clad in her customary smart trouser suit and with her gorgeously pretty face smiling sympathetically down at her. It was so strange to see her in the flesh again after spending so much time plotting to mess her up, and after the dreams of the previous two nights. She lowered her eyes from the vision of the teacher's face and ended up gazing at her feet. Yet she couldn't help herself, she started to wonder what her shiny leather boot would look like after being gunged, and what it would feel like to wear them. What was going on with her head? She had to say something.
"Er... hello."
"Just been in French?" asked Miss Blossom, noticing one of her textbooks.
"Er, yes, yes I have." She pulled herself together, gathered up the rest of her books and stood up.
"How's things going?"
"Fine, fine, yes, everything's just...fine."
"I expect you and the girls have been busy organising stuff for my gunging." Her eyes flashed as she said the word 'gunging'. Daisy's heart stood still for a moment and she was dumbstruck.
"Well don't tell me," said Miss Blossom, "I want it to be a surprise, remember." She gave a knowing wink, then strode off down the corridor leaving to Daisy to gaze at her lovely rear clad in her slinky black trousers.
She stood there for some time, her mind in turmoil. Gunge. Slime. I want to be totally messed up. You'd be surprised. I want a huge sliming. You'd be surprised. The barrels in the garage. You'd be surprised.
Daisy made a firm decision, and marched resolutely homeward.
A little while later Daisy was once again standing on top of the stepladder in her garage looking down at the open barrel of purple gunge. She had changed out of her uniform, and had put on her bikini. It was fairly skimpy whilst still leaving enough to the imagination, her legs were tanned and shapely, her stomach was slim, there was no way Daisy could ever be called fat, but she was by no means anorexic either, perfectly healthy looking. Her top showed large amount of delicious cleavage and her peachy behind gave her a full set of curves in all the right places. Her silky hair tumbled artlessly down her shoulders in a naturally beautiful tousle.
She stood there at the top of the ladder in her pink bikini in every way a perfect picture of young womanhood. But she didn't plan on staying that way for too long. Since the meeting of the charity committee where this had all started she had been entirely consumed by the thought of gunge. It was no good, she just had to do this. She had to, just had to find out what a gunging would be like, and this was a great opportunity for her. In fact it was possibly the best opportunity she would ever had. After all, she would never end up on one of those messy kids shows, she was far too old now. And she could never envisage herself volunteering to be slimed publicly for charity like Miss Blossom. So this was it, there was no one about to see her, to see her being weird like this. But was it weird? She thought back to what the delivery man had said. Perhaps it wasn't, perhaps loads of people gave themselves gungings at home. Perhaps it was a normal hobby, just like stamp collecting or train spotting or something.
No, thought Daisy, that wasn't particularly likely.
She stared down at the gunge. The surface was serene, implacable. She was hypnotised by it, the sheen, the shimmer. Daisy tentatively dipped her big toe below the surface. She drew it out again. It felt cold, and there was a strange texture to it. Her toe was purple, it was almost as if she had begun to paint her toenail (which she had never done in reality) and had got rather carried away.
All at one she had second thoughts. What on earth was she doing? She was one of the prettiest girls in the school, looking incredibly sexy wearing nothing but her small bikini, so what possible reason could she have for covering herself in horrible, disgusting slime? Why was she going to mess herself up of her own free will? This was madness. She couldn't possibly do this, it wasn't for charity or for a prank, there was no excuse. She climbed down from the ladder.
And yet....
The visions came back to her, in more detail than ever before. Every single word of Mr. Brown's announcement and the initial meeting with Miss
Blossom. The sight of the woman in the dunktank on the website, her smile as the slime poured over her, the pool in which Miss Blossom would soon be swimming, the apparatus that Mr. Drake was even now building. She ascended the ladder again. The gunge had seemed to change its aspect, it was less dark and mysterious than before and now looked exciting and almost... inviting.
What the hell. She closed her eyes tightly, held her cute little button nose... and jumped.
She completely submerged. The cold, thick, slimy gunge surrounded her, it soaked through the thin material of her bikini and oozed its way into every little nook and cranny of her body. This was a wonderful sensation. She was cocooned, enveloped, cuddled by the viscous gunk. She stayed under for as long as possible to revel in the feeling. Finally Daisy ran out of breath and pushed above the surface. She gulped for air as she wiped her face a little more clean so that she could see. She pulled matted clumps of her hair away from her face and slicked it back. It was, like the rest of her, saturated and would take a good deal of cleaning. This was a totally awesome feeling.
She splashed about a little, releasing her inner child. Even the noises sounded incredible, the little sploshy sounds as she glooped around. The
gunge had started to warm up now, and felt lovely and warm as opposed to the initial, slightly shocking coldness. Sheer, unadulterated bliss.
Fear hit her suddenly. She looked at herself. What was she doing? What if someone was to come to the house? What would they think of her? What if - horrible thought - her parents were to come home unexpectedly? Daisy was afraid, and quickly climbed out of the barrel and hurried to clean up.
Daisy inevitably spent the next day at school thinking about gunge once more. This wasn't the woolly, distracted flights of fancy that had plagued her yesterday. This was cool, calculating analysis. She was also helped by the absence of any more surprise additions to Miss Blossom's itinerary and by failing to bump into the woman in the flesh.
She had easily shrugged off her brief panic attack, and had made great strides towards coming to terms with her somewhat unhealthy obsession with slime. It rapidly developed in to a case of it not being whether or not she would gunge herself again, but rather of when and how. The when was easily answered. As soon as the last lesson bell rang Daisy made a beeline for the exit and in no time at all was back in the dark, brooding atmosphere of her garage.
Something had been nagging at the back of her mind. The bikini looked good of course, very sexy, and it was the obvious thing to have on for a gunging. But some secret instinct whispered to her and told her that this was not right. Then she realised. Every dream she had had so far, whether of her, the anonymous dunktank woman or Miss Blossom had one thing in common. Clothes! She needed to be clothed, that was what was missing.
Solving that problem merely presented another one, however. What should she wear? Her dreams had showed her Miss Blossom being slimed in her stylish suit, but Daisy wasn't sure about doing something quite like that, at least not yet. She couldn't go out and ruin a perfectly good outfit. Maybe she would have to stick with the bikini after all.
Her other point of reference was the photoset from the website. In that the woman's baggy t-shirt and shorts were plainly not worn for their
aesthetic appeal, but rather down to their being old and on the verge of being thrown out anyway, so it wouldn't matter what mistreatment they incurred. Yes, she could do that.
There, a solution that seemed sensible, old, worn out clothes were to be the order of the day. Daisy went up to her wardrobe to scavenge for what she could find. She dug around the back for a while amongst the 'Triassic' layer at the back of the spacious cupboard. However, every single item, even if she hadn't worn it for six months she just couldn't bear to part with. Of course this was the main reason for her having excessive mounds of clothes piled up there anyway.
Ah ha! Triumphantly she held aloft her old gym sweatshirt in the regulation school crimson. Somewhere around here should be the matching tracksuit bottoms... bingo! Although they were a few years old they were a pretty good nick. Daisy hadn't done outdoor games for ages after deciding that she was allergic to hockey. Although the thought of all those mud smeared playing fields seemed more than a little enticing at the moment...
Daisy donned her bikini as she had done previously, then over the top pulled on the sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms. A pair of thick woolly white hockey socks that she could have no possible future use for served as accessories. Was this better? It most certainly was. It may not have been quite as sexy a getup as just the skimpy bikini, but Daisy's immense natural beauty would have shone out if she had been dressed in dustbin liners. She made her way back downstairs.
Daisy pulled the top of one of the pristine barrels off to reveal it's contents. It held gunge of a bright blue colour, almost fluorescent. It was
much more cheerful looking than the old, sombre purple barrel, much more in keeping with her optimistic mood tonight. But wait. It wasn't quite right yet. What was missing, what was missing....? That was it! She glanced down at her feet clad only in the white socks. Footwear! That would be the piece-de-resistance.
But hang on, this was a whole new problem. How would shoes react to a gunging? Would they escape without permanent damage? She supposed she could wear her trainers, but dared she risk it? Wait, the solution was staring her in the face. She raced out to the hallstand and grabbed hold of her wellies.
These were indestructible, and what delicious irony to wear something specifically designed to keep nasty stuff out when you were deliberately setting out to get all messy. The boots were tall and made of shiny black rubber. They fitted snugly around her feet, they were normally slightly too big but the thick socks made up for that. They were warm and protecting. Protecting, but not for long.
As she turned she glanced at the overcrowded coatstand and something caught her eye. She reached over and pulled out her raincoat. She had bought it once whilst trapped in a torrential downpour, and was hence in the mood to get something as insulating and waterproof as possible. Hence she had rarely worn it since, given that it could be considered overkill in anything but monsoon weather. The coat was entirely constructed of thick black rubber. There was a distinctive smell to it, not an unpleasant one though. It seemed rich and pungent tonight though. She thought for a moment . Was this part of the vision?
What the hell. Tonight was a night for experimenting after all.
Daisy pulled on the shiny rubber raincoat. It flapped around her legs, the hem coming down to just about the top of her wellies. She did all the
buttons up to the top and did the wide belt up tightly. This was right. She looked down herself, warmly wrapped up in her tracksuit, swaddled in black rubber from her neck down to the tips of her toes.
Daisy was finally ready to get messy.
Daisy was in the by now familiar position of standing at the top of the stepladder with a large pit of slime in front of her. She sat down, then
slowly she dipped her right wellington into the barrel. Down, down, further it went, more and more of the shaft was swallowed up. She dipped the second boot as well, faster so that it caught the other up. She stopped, the slime millimeters from the top of the wellies. Daisy lost her nerve for a second and withdrew her feet from the barrel. She giggled. Her once black wellies were now a shade of vibrant blue, they were coated, but her feet were still nice and warm and dry inside. This was going to be a very fun evening. She unhurriedly lowered her feet back to where they were, again pausing as the slime threatened to swallow the boots entirely.
Then inchingly, teasingly she dipped her right foot. A trickle of wetness came over the top of the wellington, running down the inside the lining to pool around her toes and soak into her sock. The trickle increased to a torrent, she lowered the left boot as well, this was such a blast! Her wellies were full to the brim. She wiggled her toes. Hee hee! The gunge squidged deliciously around in her boots. She was going to be making a night of it. Making a night of it... She suddenly had a wicked thought. Daisy stood up and got down off the ladder. She wiped off the little slime that was on the outside of her outfit then set off on a couple of errands around the house, interesting squelching noises coming from her full wellingtons.
Daisy was back within half an hour with a couple of items added to the garage's meagre inventory, of which more later. She was back at the top of the ladder in a trice, sitting down and dangling her boots in the slime. She stared down at the gently rippling surface and allowed herself to be hypnotised again. Gentle waves moved up and down, up and down. Her trance guided her movements. She edged forward gently, further, further. Daisy slid off her seat and into the gunge in one smooth, fluid action, the blue gunge gradually covering every inch of her black rubber coat, then finally over her golden hair as her head disappeared below the surface.
The slime oozed under the coat and through her tracksuit bottoms, it seeped into her sweatshirt, finally reaching her skin. This was a much slower sliming than last night, as she moved around the tank more and more of her outfit surrendered to the invading mess. A less intense high than before, but immeasurably more satisfying. This is what gunging was about. Completely giving in to the gloop. Marvelous.
There were still parts of her dry, this coat was doing its job too well. She struggled out of it and let her bottoms and sweatshirt get totally
saturated. She idled for over a quarter of an hour, floating, serene, calmer than she had been in the last week.
Daisy stirred. She stood up properly in the barrel, the slime coming up to over her breasts. She gave the rubber raincoat a thorough rinsing in the gunge. There, that should do it. She spent a couple of minutes fighting with the coat trying to put it on again. It was awkward, but doing it inside the
barrel seemed the right thing to do. When the raincoat was on, buckled and belted, she preceded to clamber out of the gunge pit.
Standing on the concrete floor of the garage, dripping noises all around her, Daisy realised for the first time exactly what difference clothes made.
It was on a different level from being gunged in her bikini. Every little movement, every little twitch brought a new area of her saturated outfit into contact with her body and with it a new touch of slime. The rubber skirts of her raincoat flapped wetly against her boots. Incredible.
Daisy walked around a bit, reveling in the new sensations she was experiencing. Splosh, splosh, splosh with every step, she felt like a little girl again. There were still pockets of gunge trapped everywhere inside her outfit, it was just as hard for the slop to get out as it was to get in. Her wellies were full, there were pools of slime in the sleeves of her sweatshirt, even the pockets of her raincoat were full of gunge!
It was almost like she was still in the barrel. In the barrel? That was a good idea. Daisy climbed back in to have another play around...
A short while later Daisy was still in the garage. She was sat back in a plastic garden chair, a glass of wine in her hand. A TV completed the list
of items that she had gathered during her brief treasure hunt, and she was idly channel surfing, relaxing to the max.
She had not, of course, made any attempt to clean up. What was the hurry? She had the rest of the night ahead of her and slobbing around wearing gungy clothes just felt so naughty and wicked. Daisy took another sip of her wine sat back causing the small reservoirs of slime still held against her body to readjust themselves. Mmmmm..... This was the life. Could it get any better?
Well could it? There was one barrel that she hadn't even looked at yet after all. A memory stirred in Daisy's head. There was something else she could get up to tonight... But dare she? A wave of tingly excitement washed over her as she fully considered her idea. Yes, why not, why not indeed!
Daisy had all at once remembered a dress she had worn not long ago to a distant relatives wedding. In the commotion of the reception it had received a small but persistant stain of unknown origin that had resisted all attempts at removal. The dress was effectively useless now, she could never use it for another function. Which of course meant that it would be perfectly ok to mess it up further.
She controlled herself, this couldn't work. A dress did not an outfit make, and if she was going to do it she'd have to do it properly or not at all.
And yet, a pair of holdups could be replaced easily, they were disposable. And the shoes that went with the dress went with absolutely nothing else she owned, all they were going to do was gather dust at the bottom of her wardrobe. Why not let them go out in a blaze of glory?
She took another gulp from her glass. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the intoxicating effect of having three enormous barrels of gunge in the house, but Daisy was in a devilish mood. The night was yet young. With a mischievous glint in her eye she pulled of her tall rubber wellingtons and tipped out a large amount of gunge out, the first stage in the process of cleaning herself up.
Another item of furniture had been brought down to the garage: A large full length mirror. This was no jumble of old clothes she was wearing, this was a classy ensemble that needed to be fully appreciated. She looked admiringly at her reflection. The powder blue dress was ankle length, simple yet subtly elegant in its cut. She had decided that underwear was also disposable, so was wearing a well padded bra that gave her chest a wonderful boost. She ran her hand under one of the thin shoulder straps. Yes, the bra was definitely a good idea.
The matching satin shoes were lovely too, in the same light shade of blue. Their three inch heel was a little higher than she was used to but the elevation they gave her was just right.
Daisy ran her hand over her cheek. She had decided to go the whole hog and get properly dolled up, full make up accentuating the natural beauty of her face. She had washed her hair, dried it, styled it and it was now looking fantastic. A small faux-pearl necklace and matching earrings were the icing on the cake. Daisy was altogether a vision of perfection.
None of her previous doubts or uncertainties were present, none of the anxieties that had plagued her. This was exact satisfaction, this was precisely the experience that she had been looking for. She felt beautiful and confident - she looked beautiful and confident. It was right to dress up, right to make every effort to look your best, the preparation was key.
She paraded around a little, heel to toe, the dress swishing around her. The young English rose would not look out of place at a debutante ball. The anticipation was mounting.
She slowly climbed to the top of the stepladder and peered down at the green gunge contained in the third barrel. Here was a complete contrast, the indescribable paradox at the heart of her recent activities. On the one hand there was Daisy, the best looking girl in the school dressed up to the nines, hair, dress, jewelry, shoes all working together for devastating effect. She was the a fine example of young womanhood, a sight for sore eyes.
And on the other hand was the gunge. The horrible, reviled pit, the reservoir of awful slime. The green gloop looked revolting, an gigantic expanse of disgusting slop. She was enthralled.
Daisy considered how she should go in. Her dunking earlier in the evening had been gradual, little by little, and that seemed to fit with the hodge-podge of clothes she'd been wearing, good to the touch but not exactly catwalk worthy. This gettup required decisive action, no pussyfooting around.
The excitement was building.
She turned her head behind her for one last look in the mirror. She was the epitome of sexiness. The soft blue material hung nicely off her, clung to the curves of her behind tightly. She couldn't control herself any longer.
Daisy faced forward again, closed her eyes and stepped forward.
The transformation was instant. The gunge swallowed up the fantasticaly clad girl up totally, ripples on the surface were the only trace of her for a few seconds. Then she surfaced, a green monster. She gasped, this was a release of pent-up emotion, the climax of all the careful build up and preparation.
Her dress, her painstakingly styled hair, her makeup, all were utterly ruined. She had lost one of her shoes. Daisy laughed out loud at herself and at what she had just done. Just three short days ago trashing an outfit like this would have been madness, a disaster. Now it was posibly the greatest feeling she had ever experienced in her life.
Daisy dived under to try to recover her shoe. It was not easy to find and took several attempts. Finally she located it and threw it over the side.
She very sloppily climbed out of the gunge filled barrel. She picked up the shoe from the concrete floor and put it back on without bothering to empty it out first. Her toes squished into the slop and gunge was squeezed over the sides of the shoe. The mess seeped into the soles of her opaque hold-ups.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. What a sight! What a difference from when she had stood in this same position just minutes earlier.
Conventually she was a wreack, a disgusting slime covered heap. But to Daisy this was the most beautiful she had ever felt in her life. She was gorgeous, a green goddess.
She paraded up and down, wet splodgy noises accompanying her. The dress was so clingy, it moved over her body seductively. It was an exhilarating feeling, being carressed gently in this way by the saturated material. Daisy drank in the emotions the green goo was giving her like a conoseur.
Daisy was satisfied an at home now. Whereas previously she had felt like she was on a quest, a cruisade to find the one utterly perfect gunging, this was more like the beginning of a journey, a journey of gunge. And she somehow that night that the journey would last for the rest of her life. Where would it take her? Who knows...
The next step was obvious, though. Having now gunged herself three times it was someone elses turn. The next stage was to witness the complete and utter destruction on the woman who had started her down this road: Miss Blossom.
So there it is, the third part of four. This story is getting bigger than John Goodman after he's come off his diet and eaten a load of pies.
Feedback as ever welcomed and stay tuned for the final episode in which Luke discovers who his father really is...
Part Three
Daisy had always been an academically able pupil and her concentration levels were usually high, but the next day she could not focus on anything at all. She had reached the point of leaving her house before she realised that she had odd socks on, and in every lesson so far the teacher had rebuked her for not paying attention.
The visions of gunge had stayed in her mind after waking, she could think of nothing else; she was obsessed. Memories of the barrel, the woman from the website, Miss Blossom in her suit saying: "I want to be totally, completely, utterly messed up. I want a huge sliming. I want to be obliterated. I want the most thorough, gooey, horrible gunging that you can think of." The memory of the smile on her face as she said it.
She also thought of her being gunged in Miss Blossoms place, of her being totally, completely, utterly messed up. This troubled her greatly. What was wrong with her? Why was she imagining her own slimy destruction? She kept recalling the word of the delivery man also: "You'd be surprised." Maybe it wasn't so unusual to think a gunging would be fun.
Her mind kept revolving, the same thought patterns turning round and round in her head. Gunge, I want a huge sliming, you'd be surprised. Round and around and around...
After her final lesson she found herself walking along a corridor to her locker when she dropped her books all over the floor for the fourth time that day. As she was on her knees picking them up she heard a familiar voice:
"Hello there Daisy. Bit of a klutz today aren't we?"
She gasped and looked up. There before her was the object of her fantasies, clad in her customary smart trouser suit and with her gorgeously pretty face smiling sympathetically down at her. It was so strange to see her in the flesh again after spending so much time plotting to mess her up, and after the dreams of the previous two nights. She lowered her eyes from the vision of the teacher's face and ended up gazing at her feet. Yet she couldn't help herself, she started to wonder what her shiny leather boot would look like after being gunged, and what it would feel like to wear them. What was going on with her head? She had to say something.
"Er... hello."
"Just been in French?" asked Miss Blossom, noticing one of her textbooks.
"Er, yes, yes I have." She pulled herself together, gathered up the rest of her books and stood up.
"How's things going?"
"Fine, fine, yes, everything's just...fine."
"I expect you and the girls have been busy organising stuff for my gunging." Her eyes flashed as she said the word 'gunging'. Daisy's heart stood still for a moment and she was dumbstruck.
"Well don't tell me," said Miss Blossom, "I want it to be a surprise, remember." She gave a knowing wink, then strode off down the corridor leaving to Daisy to gaze at her lovely rear clad in her slinky black trousers.
She stood there for some time, her mind in turmoil. Gunge. Slime. I want to be totally messed up. You'd be surprised. I want a huge sliming. You'd be surprised. The barrels in the garage. You'd be surprised.
Daisy made a firm decision, and marched resolutely homeward.
A little while later Daisy was once again standing on top of the stepladder in her garage looking down at the open barrel of purple gunge. She had changed out of her uniform, and had put on her bikini. It was fairly skimpy whilst still leaving enough to the imagination, her legs were tanned and shapely, her stomach was slim, there was no way Daisy could ever be called fat, but she was by no means anorexic either, perfectly healthy looking. Her top showed large amount of delicious cleavage and her peachy behind gave her a full set of curves in all the right places. Her silky hair tumbled artlessly down her shoulders in a naturally beautiful tousle.
She stood there at the top of the ladder in her pink bikini in every way a perfect picture of young womanhood. But she didn't plan on staying that way for too long. Since the meeting of the charity committee where this had all started she had been entirely consumed by the thought of gunge. It was no good, she just had to do this. She had to, just had to find out what a gunging would be like, and this was a great opportunity for her. In fact it was possibly the best opportunity she would ever had. After all, she would never end up on one of those messy kids shows, she was far too old now. And she could never envisage herself volunteering to be slimed publicly for charity like Miss Blossom. So this was it, there was no one about to see her, to see her being weird like this. But was it weird? She thought back to what the delivery man had said. Perhaps it wasn't, perhaps loads of people gave themselves gungings at home. Perhaps it was a normal hobby, just like stamp collecting or train spotting or something.
No, thought Daisy, that wasn't particularly likely.
She stared down at the gunge. The surface was serene, implacable. She was hypnotised by it, the sheen, the shimmer. Daisy tentatively dipped her big toe below the surface. She drew it out again. It felt cold, and there was a strange texture to it. Her toe was purple, it was almost as if she had begun to paint her toenail (which she had never done in reality) and had got rather carried away.
All at one she had second thoughts. What on earth was she doing? She was one of the prettiest girls in the school, looking incredibly sexy wearing nothing but her small bikini, so what possible reason could she have for covering herself in horrible, disgusting slime? Why was she going to mess herself up of her own free will? This was madness. She couldn't possibly do this, it wasn't for charity or for a prank, there was no excuse. She climbed down from the ladder.
And yet....
The visions came back to her, in more detail than ever before. Every single word of Mr. Brown's announcement and the initial meeting with Miss
Blossom. The sight of the woman in the dunktank on the website, her smile as the slime poured over her, the pool in which Miss Blossom would soon be swimming, the apparatus that Mr. Drake was even now building. She ascended the ladder again. The gunge had seemed to change its aspect, it was less dark and mysterious than before and now looked exciting and almost... inviting.
What the hell. She closed her eyes tightly, held her cute little button nose... and jumped.
She completely submerged. The cold, thick, slimy gunge surrounded her, it soaked through the thin material of her bikini and oozed its way into every little nook and cranny of her body. This was a wonderful sensation. She was cocooned, enveloped, cuddled by the viscous gunk. She stayed under for as long as possible to revel in the feeling. Finally Daisy ran out of breath and pushed above the surface. She gulped for air as she wiped her face a little more clean so that she could see. She pulled matted clumps of her hair away from her face and slicked it back. It was, like the rest of her, saturated and would take a good deal of cleaning. This was a totally awesome feeling.
She splashed about a little, releasing her inner child. Even the noises sounded incredible, the little sploshy sounds as she glooped around. The
gunge had started to warm up now, and felt lovely and warm as opposed to the initial, slightly shocking coldness. Sheer, unadulterated bliss.
Fear hit her suddenly. She looked at herself. What was she doing? What if someone was to come to the house? What would they think of her? What if - horrible thought - her parents were to come home unexpectedly? Daisy was afraid, and quickly climbed out of the barrel and hurried to clean up.
Daisy inevitably spent the next day at school thinking about gunge once more. This wasn't the woolly, distracted flights of fancy that had plagued her yesterday. This was cool, calculating analysis. She was also helped by the absence of any more surprise additions to Miss Blossom's itinerary and by failing to bump into the woman in the flesh.
She had easily shrugged off her brief panic attack, and had made great strides towards coming to terms with her somewhat unhealthy obsession with slime. It rapidly developed in to a case of it not being whether or not she would gunge herself again, but rather of when and how. The when was easily answered. As soon as the last lesson bell rang Daisy made a beeline for the exit and in no time at all was back in the dark, brooding atmosphere of her garage.
Something had been nagging at the back of her mind. The bikini looked good of course, very sexy, and it was the obvious thing to have on for a gunging. But some secret instinct whispered to her and told her that this was not right. Then she realised. Every dream she had had so far, whether of her, the anonymous dunktank woman or Miss Blossom had one thing in common. Clothes! She needed to be clothed, that was what was missing.
Solving that problem merely presented another one, however. What should she wear? Her dreams had showed her Miss Blossom being slimed in her stylish suit, but Daisy wasn't sure about doing something quite like that, at least not yet. She couldn't go out and ruin a perfectly good outfit. Maybe she would have to stick with the bikini after all.
Her other point of reference was the photoset from the website. In that the woman's baggy t-shirt and shorts were plainly not worn for their
aesthetic appeal, but rather down to their being old and on the verge of being thrown out anyway, so it wouldn't matter what mistreatment they incurred. Yes, she could do that.
There, a solution that seemed sensible, old, worn out clothes were to be the order of the day. Daisy went up to her wardrobe to scavenge for what she could find. She dug around the back for a while amongst the 'Triassic' layer at the back of the spacious cupboard. However, every single item, even if she hadn't worn it for six months she just couldn't bear to part with. Of course this was the main reason for her having excessive mounds of clothes piled up there anyway.
Ah ha! Triumphantly she held aloft her old gym sweatshirt in the regulation school crimson. Somewhere around here should be the matching tracksuit bottoms... bingo! Although they were a few years old they were a pretty good nick. Daisy hadn't done outdoor games for ages after deciding that she was allergic to hockey. Although the thought of all those mud smeared playing fields seemed more than a little enticing at the moment...
Daisy donned her bikini as she had done previously, then over the top pulled on the sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms. A pair of thick woolly white hockey socks that she could have no possible future use for served as accessories. Was this better? It most certainly was. It may not have been quite as sexy a getup as just the skimpy bikini, but Daisy's immense natural beauty would have shone out if she had been dressed in dustbin liners. She made her way back downstairs.
Daisy pulled the top of one of the pristine barrels off to reveal it's contents. It held gunge of a bright blue colour, almost fluorescent. It was
much more cheerful looking than the old, sombre purple barrel, much more in keeping with her optimistic mood tonight. But wait. It wasn't quite right yet. What was missing, what was missing....? That was it! She glanced down at her feet clad only in the white socks. Footwear! That would be the piece-de-resistance.
But hang on, this was a whole new problem. How would shoes react to a gunging? Would they escape without permanent damage? She supposed she could wear her trainers, but dared she risk it? Wait, the solution was staring her in the face. She raced out to the hallstand and grabbed hold of her wellies.
These were indestructible, and what delicious irony to wear something specifically designed to keep nasty stuff out when you were deliberately setting out to get all messy. The boots were tall and made of shiny black rubber. They fitted snugly around her feet, they were normally slightly too big but the thick socks made up for that. They were warm and protecting. Protecting, but not for long.
As she turned she glanced at the overcrowded coatstand and something caught her eye. She reached over and pulled out her raincoat. She had bought it once whilst trapped in a torrential downpour, and was hence in the mood to get something as insulating and waterproof as possible. Hence she had rarely worn it since, given that it could be considered overkill in anything but monsoon weather. The coat was entirely constructed of thick black rubber. There was a distinctive smell to it, not an unpleasant one though. It seemed rich and pungent tonight though. She thought for a moment . Was this part of the vision?
What the hell. Tonight was a night for experimenting after all.
Daisy pulled on the shiny rubber raincoat. It flapped around her legs, the hem coming down to just about the top of her wellies. She did all the
buttons up to the top and did the wide belt up tightly. This was right. She looked down herself, warmly wrapped up in her tracksuit, swaddled in black rubber from her neck down to the tips of her toes.
Daisy was finally ready to get messy.
Daisy was in the by now familiar position of standing at the top of the stepladder with a large pit of slime in front of her. She sat down, then
slowly she dipped her right wellington into the barrel. Down, down, further it went, more and more of the shaft was swallowed up. She dipped the second boot as well, faster so that it caught the other up. She stopped, the slime millimeters from the top of the wellies. Daisy lost her nerve for a second and withdrew her feet from the barrel. She giggled. Her once black wellies were now a shade of vibrant blue, they were coated, but her feet were still nice and warm and dry inside. This was going to be a very fun evening. She unhurriedly lowered her feet back to where they were, again pausing as the slime threatened to swallow the boots entirely.
Then inchingly, teasingly she dipped her right foot. A trickle of wetness came over the top of the wellington, running down the inside the lining to pool around her toes and soak into her sock. The trickle increased to a torrent, she lowered the left boot as well, this was such a blast! Her wellies were full to the brim. She wiggled her toes. Hee hee! The gunge squidged deliciously around in her boots. She was going to be making a night of it. Making a night of it... She suddenly had a wicked thought. Daisy stood up and got down off the ladder. She wiped off the little slime that was on the outside of her outfit then set off on a couple of errands around the house, interesting squelching noises coming from her full wellingtons.
Daisy was back within half an hour with a couple of items added to the garage's meagre inventory, of which more later. She was back at the top of the ladder in a trice, sitting down and dangling her boots in the slime. She stared down at the gently rippling surface and allowed herself to be hypnotised again. Gentle waves moved up and down, up and down. Her trance guided her movements. She edged forward gently, further, further. Daisy slid off her seat and into the gunge in one smooth, fluid action, the blue gunge gradually covering every inch of her black rubber coat, then finally over her golden hair as her head disappeared below the surface.
The slime oozed under the coat and through her tracksuit bottoms, it seeped into her sweatshirt, finally reaching her skin. This was a much slower sliming than last night, as she moved around the tank more and more of her outfit surrendered to the invading mess. A less intense high than before, but immeasurably more satisfying. This is what gunging was about. Completely giving in to the gloop. Marvelous.
There were still parts of her dry, this coat was doing its job too well. She struggled out of it and let her bottoms and sweatshirt get totally
saturated. She idled for over a quarter of an hour, floating, serene, calmer than she had been in the last week.
Daisy stirred. She stood up properly in the barrel, the slime coming up to over her breasts. She gave the rubber raincoat a thorough rinsing in the gunge. There, that should do it. She spent a couple of minutes fighting with the coat trying to put it on again. It was awkward, but doing it inside the
barrel seemed the right thing to do. When the raincoat was on, buckled and belted, she preceded to clamber out of the gunge pit.
Standing on the concrete floor of the garage, dripping noises all around her, Daisy realised for the first time exactly what difference clothes made.
It was on a different level from being gunged in her bikini. Every little movement, every little twitch brought a new area of her saturated outfit into contact with her body and with it a new touch of slime. The rubber skirts of her raincoat flapped wetly against her boots. Incredible.
Daisy walked around a bit, reveling in the new sensations she was experiencing. Splosh, splosh, splosh with every step, she felt like a little girl again. There were still pockets of gunge trapped everywhere inside her outfit, it was just as hard for the slop to get out as it was to get in. Her wellies were full, there were pools of slime in the sleeves of her sweatshirt, even the pockets of her raincoat were full of gunge!
It was almost like she was still in the barrel. In the barrel? That was a good idea. Daisy climbed back in to have another play around...
A short while later Daisy was still in the garage. She was sat back in a plastic garden chair, a glass of wine in her hand. A TV completed the list
of items that she had gathered during her brief treasure hunt, and she was idly channel surfing, relaxing to the max.
She had not, of course, made any attempt to clean up. What was the hurry? She had the rest of the night ahead of her and slobbing around wearing gungy clothes just felt so naughty and wicked. Daisy took another sip of her wine sat back causing the small reservoirs of slime still held against her body to readjust themselves. Mmmmm..... This was the life. Could it get any better?
Well could it? There was one barrel that she hadn't even looked at yet after all. A memory stirred in Daisy's head. There was something else she could get up to tonight... But dare she? A wave of tingly excitement washed over her as she fully considered her idea. Yes, why not, why not indeed!
Daisy had all at once remembered a dress she had worn not long ago to a distant relatives wedding. In the commotion of the reception it had received a small but persistant stain of unknown origin that had resisted all attempts at removal. The dress was effectively useless now, she could never use it for another function. Which of course meant that it would be perfectly ok to mess it up further.
She controlled herself, this couldn't work. A dress did not an outfit make, and if she was going to do it she'd have to do it properly or not at all.
And yet, a pair of holdups could be replaced easily, they were disposable. And the shoes that went with the dress went with absolutely nothing else she owned, all they were going to do was gather dust at the bottom of her wardrobe. Why not let them go out in a blaze of glory?
She took another gulp from her glass. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the intoxicating effect of having three enormous barrels of gunge in the house, but Daisy was in a devilish mood. The night was yet young. With a mischievous glint in her eye she pulled of her tall rubber wellingtons and tipped out a large amount of gunge out, the first stage in the process of cleaning herself up.
Another item of furniture had been brought down to the garage: A large full length mirror. This was no jumble of old clothes she was wearing, this was a classy ensemble that needed to be fully appreciated. She looked admiringly at her reflection. The powder blue dress was ankle length, simple yet subtly elegant in its cut. She had decided that underwear was also disposable, so was wearing a well padded bra that gave her chest a wonderful boost. She ran her hand under one of the thin shoulder straps. Yes, the bra was definitely a good idea.
The matching satin shoes were lovely too, in the same light shade of blue. Their three inch heel was a little higher than she was used to but the elevation they gave her was just right.
Daisy ran her hand over her cheek. She had decided to go the whole hog and get properly dolled up, full make up accentuating the natural beauty of her face. She had washed her hair, dried it, styled it and it was now looking fantastic. A small faux-pearl necklace and matching earrings were the icing on the cake. Daisy was altogether a vision of perfection.
None of her previous doubts or uncertainties were present, none of the anxieties that had plagued her. This was exact satisfaction, this was precisely the experience that she had been looking for. She felt beautiful and confident - she looked beautiful and confident. It was right to dress up, right to make every effort to look your best, the preparation was key.
She paraded around a little, heel to toe, the dress swishing around her. The young English rose would not look out of place at a debutante ball. The anticipation was mounting.
She slowly climbed to the top of the stepladder and peered down at the green gunge contained in the third barrel. Here was a complete contrast, the indescribable paradox at the heart of her recent activities. On the one hand there was Daisy, the best looking girl in the school dressed up to the nines, hair, dress, jewelry, shoes all working together for devastating effect. She was the a fine example of young womanhood, a sight for sore eyes.
And on the other hand was the gunge. The horrible, reviled pit, the reservoir of awful slime. The green gloop looked revolting, an gigantic expanse of disgusting slop. She was enthralled.
Daisy considered how she should go in. Her dunking earlier in the evening had been gradual, little by little, and that seemed to fit with the hodge-podge of clothes she'd been wearing, good to the touch but not exactly catwalk worthy. This gettup required decisive action, no pussyfooting around.
The excitement was building.
She turned her head behind her for one last look in the mirror. She was the epitome of sexiness. The soft blue material hung nicely off her, clung to the curves of her behind tightly. She couldn't control herself any longer.
Daisy faced forward again, closed her eyes and stepped forward.
The transformation was instant. The gunge swallowed up the fantasticaly clad girl up totally, ripples on the surface were the only trace of her for a few seconds. Then she surfaced, a green monster. She gasped, this was a release of pent-up emotion, the climax of all the careful build up and preparation.
Her dress, her painstakingly styled hair, her makeup, all were utterly ruined. She had lost one of her shoes. Daisy laughed out loud at herself and at what she had just done. Just three short days ago trashing an outfit like this would have been madness, a disaster. Now it was posibly the greatest feeling she had ever experienced in her life.
Daisy dived under to try to recover her shoe. It was not easy to find and took several attempts. Finally she located it and threw it over the side.
She very sloppily climbed out of the gunge filled barrel. She picked up the shoe from the concrete floor and put it back on without bothering to empty it out first. Her toes squished into the slop and gunge was squeezed over the sides of the shoe. The mess seeped into the soles of her opaque hold-ups.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. What a sight! What a difference from when she had stood in this same position just minutes earlier.
Conventually she was a wreack, a disgusting slime covered heap. But to Daisy this was the most beautiful she had ever felt in her life. She was gorgeous, a green goddess.
She paraded up and down, wet splodgy noises accompanying her. The dress was so clingy, it moved over her body seductively. It was an exhilarating feeling, being carressed gently in this way by the saturated material. Daisy drank in the emotions the green goo was giving her like a conoseur.
Daisy was satisfied an at home now. Whereas previously she had felt like she was on a quest, a cruisade to find the one utterly perfect gunging, this was more like the beginning of a journey, a journey of gunge. And she somehow that night that the journey would last for the rest of her life. Where would it take her? Who knows...
The next step was obvious, though. Having now gunged herself three times it was someone elses turn. The next stage was to witness the complete and utter destruction on the woman who had started her down this road: Miss Blossom.
So there it is, the third part of four. This story is getting bigger than John Goodman after he's come off his diet and eaten a load of pies.
Feedback as ever welcomed and stay tuned for the final episode in which Luke discovers who his father really is...
by qdaved » 25 Jun 2007, 02:48
Whew, when I first wrote a hundred-word plot summery I never thought it'd take me quite this long to write the whole story. Anyway, here's the final part, enjoy.
Part Four
The morning of the fete dawned. Daisy lay in bed, wide awake, looking at the Sun's rays streaming through her thin curtains. Last night she'd been afraid that there might be bad weather, causing the postponement, or worse the cancellation of the day's events. But no, the bright sunshine outside confirmed that the day would be fine and warm. She could sense it, taste it: The day ahead was sure to be the best day of her life.
The omens were good: The high target of £300 pounds donated from each and every year had been exceeded comfortably. The subject of gunge seemed to have captured the imagination of the whole school, it seemed every other conversation at Sploshington was about the impending doom of Miss Blossom. Surprisingly her reputation as a young, cool teacher had not been affected at all. Indeed, quite the opposite; she was if possible even more popular than ever.
Speculation was rife as to her reasons for volunteering for this treatment. The general consensus was that she wanted to do something good for charity and that she didn't mind a bit of mess. So far though only a select few actually knew how spectacular a sliming was in store, most thought it wouldn't be anything worse than maybe a few pies and the odd bucket of custard.
Rumours also abounded about there having two rather hefty donations from teachers - the two prime suspects were Mr. Drake and Miss Blossom. Whatever the source of income the fact remained that the only obstacle remaining was the £2000 pound target of money to be raised on the day.
Every year the fete had a theme and this year, to coincide with the completion of a certain movie franchise the theme this year was pirates. Daisy had therefore assembled an appropriate costume, as had all the other students involved in the running of the event. This consisted of a navy blue long sleeved top with thin white stripes, a black floaty skirt that was short but still respectable, black and white stripy long socks that were pulled up over her knees and a pair of pointy toed calf length black leather boots with a small heel.
As she got dressed after breakfast Daisy thought of Miss Blossom performing the same actions that morning. What would she feel like picking out and donning the clothes she knew that she would be gunged in? She wondered whether she would wear the suit that she always wore or whether she would cop out and wear some rubbishy old stuff. Daisy hoped against hope that it would be the suit.
Daisy put on a joke shop tri-cornered hat adorned with a jolly roger motif and looked at herself in the mirror. She was cute, very cute in that outfit, noone could resist donating money if she was asking. In fact it wouldn't half be a bad outfit to be gunged in. But no, that wasn't to be contemplated. For a start it was Miss Blossom's day, she daren't steal her thunder. Besides which Daisy wasn't too sure about public gungings yet.
It was time to get going, there was a lot of work to do. For a start it was going to take three trips in the car to get the barrels to school, then there were a million and one things to sort out. Daisy grabbed her car keys from her bedside table and went down to the garage.
Daisy pulled into the carpark for the third time that day. It had been a truly titanic battle getting the enormous barrels of gunge into the back of her somewhat battered old car on her own - if she hadn't been so committed to the cause she might have given up. As she was stepping out of the car she heard a familiar voice behind her:
"Morning Daisy!" Miss Blossom! Her heart was in her mouth. What was she wearing? Daisy held her breath and turned round.
There she was, the victim, the gorgeous blonde teacher, standing there hands on hips wearing her elegant, sharply cut black trouser suit, with a crisp white shirt and black leather boots. Joy! Daisy's dream had come true, she was actually going to go in the slime in her usual finery.
There was no sign of apprehension on Miss Blossom's face, she looked as cool, calm and collected as ever. Daisy however was slightly flustered at that moment, so it was up to the teacher to make the next conversational gambit:
"That look ominous," she said, gesturing at the huge mass jammed into the back of the car.
"Er, yes, yes indeed. Everything's going to plan," replied Daisy.
"I bet it is," she smiled. "Anyway, I can see you have a lot to do so I'd better leave you to it. Enjoy the fete!" And with that she turned on her heel and sashayed off.
Daisy was absolutely sure that she would enjoy the fete very much given Miss Blossom's choice of apparel.
It was that afternoon, the sun had kept shining, the rain clouds kept behaving and stayed away and the fete was shaping up to be a great success. After seeing how difficult it must have been for Daisy to bring the barrels on her own the other girls of the charity committee had immediately decided to take care of the rest of the gungy set up themselves and let her put her feet up for a while. Now though it was time for everyone to get busy, and all the girls were walking around in the crowds to shake buckets and gather cash. After all, there was a target to be reached.
The whole of the school's vast playing fields were taken up by the various activities of the fete. Everywhere you looked there were stalls and stands, everyone decked out with nautical or piratical decorations. Many of the attendees had gotten in to the spirit of things and there were more than a couple of eyepatches in evidence and a fair amount of (mercifully artificial) parrots on shoulders. It was a festival of colour and everyone was having fun.
At that precise moment in time Daisy was standing by the coconut shy being run by a man with a fake peg leg (or at least she hoped it was fake). A girl came up to her. Daisy half recognised her as being in the lower sixth, but she doubted she'd ever actually spoken to her.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," replied Daisy, "can I help you?"
"Yeah, that bucket, are you collecting for Miss Blossom's gunging?"
"It certainly is."
"Awesome!"
"I take it you wish to donate?"
"I sure do. Miss Blossom's great."
"Do you think so?"
"Yeah, she's raising loads of money, plus I bet it'll be loads of fun!"
"Will it?" Daisy asked quizzically.
"Yeah, she'll have a great time." With that the girl dropped several pounds into the bucket and walked away. Daisy was left bemused. If the girl was a representative sample then her exploits with the barrels in the garage weren't nearly as weird as she had first thought. Not that she was really bothered any more.
A little while later Daisy was still busy fundraising, but she'd given up keeping her vigil by the coconut shy and had decided to wander around for a bit. She was following the general Brownian motion of the crowd when a figure emerged from the masses and loomed in front of her. It was that master mechanic Mr. Drake.
"Hello there Daisy," he said, "how are things going?"
"Very well thank you Mr. Drake," she replied.
"Good good. Have you had a chance to admire my handiwork yet?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not Mr. Drake, the other girls were taking care of all the setting up this morning. I'll be sure to take a close look at the mechanism later though."
"You should, you should, do you know, I think it's probably the best thing I've ever made. It's going to be a fantastic day..." A strange, faraway look came into his eyes as he gazed into the distance. Daisy broke into his private reverie.
"Would you like to make a donation?" she asked.
"Oh, oh yes, yes of course." He returned his attention to the situation in hand and dug around in his pocket. "It's all for charity after all." Finally he found what he was looking for. "Here." He dropped something into her bucket and walked off.
Daisy examined what Mr. Drake had left. Well if everyone was as generous as him there would be no trouble getting to the target: He'd given fifty pounds.
Half an hour later Daisy was still pursuing a nomadic existence wandering through the crowd and her astonishment was rising. Everywhere she went there were people coming up to her with smiles on their faces and each and every one was eager to give her money.
"Hi, collecting for the slime? Have this."
"Donations? Sure, here you go."
"Please take this, it's all for a good cause after all."
A lot of people seemed very interested in the details of the gunging, asking what exactly what was going to take place, which she answered by saying she was sworn to secrecy, or enquiring as to precisely why Miss Blossom had volunteered to do it, which she answered by saying that they would have to ask her in person. To Daisy's bemusement the whole fete seemed to have gunge on its collective mind and she could feel the anticipation levels rising.
Daisy was also flabbergasted by the range of people who came up to her to give money. She thought the appeal of a gunging would be limited to the lower years, those who still watched messy kids' gameshows and maybe the odd girl wanting revenge for a bad mark. But no, the whole spectrum of society represented amongst the donators, from little children still in primary school to the fathers of girls in the upper sixth. Yes, there were a lot of dads reaching for their wallet she found...
Four o'clock was rapidly approaching and the crowd was thining somewhat. Daisy saw a familiar rather portly figure clad in a three piece tweed suit that had seen better days standing over by the merry-go-round casting a propriatorial eye over proceedings. When his patrician gaze lighted upon Daisy Mr. Brown hailed her in a stentorian voice:
"Ah, there you are!" She obligingly wet up to him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brown," she said meekly.
"Good afternoon, Daisy. I see you have been doing rather well for yourself."
"Yes I have, the bucket is getting rather heavy now." She took the opportunity to rest it on the ground for a while.
"Indeed, why just look at it, it's positively bulging.!" The headteacher was not wrong, Daisy had barely been able to carry it at all for the last ten minutes. Mr. Brown tucked his thumbs behind his lapels and puffed out his chest.
"A very impressive effort from you, young lady, and from all the other young ladies on the charity committee. This is probably the most money we've ever raised at the summer fete, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if it's the most money we've got from any event full stop. Everyone's shown a great sense of charity and desire to help others less fortunate than themselves. Tremendous school spirit." His eyes grew misty. "You know I feel very proud of Sploshington Girls' School at times like these..." He looked wistfully into the middle distance for a while before bringing himself back down to earth.
"Harumph, anyway. I believe we're well past the target I set. Go and drop that bucket off in the office with the rest of the money then be a good girl and fetch Miss Blossom would you." He moved away to lecture to some other unfortunate on the munificence of the school and its abundance of spirit.
Daisy couldn't believe that it was actually happening, that it was all coming true just as she'd imagined. They'd raised more than enough money, Miss Blossom was going to receive the gunging of her life and she'd decided to wear her suit. And she was to be the one to deliver the message of execution.
Daisy meandered around the fete in a dream like state searching for Miss Blossom, she was on cloud nine, her feet barely touched the ground. Something caught her eye. There she was! She admired view of the blonde teacher's back as she approached her. She was standing by one of the stalls that were selling a variety of inexpensive goods to the crowd. This particular one was selling a selection of home made cakes baked by the matronly lady's of the local Women's Institute. Miss Blossom was studying a very large cake with a great deal of thick, sloppy cream and had an interesting expression on her face.
Daisy stood back for a moment and admired her. She was looking particularly beautiful that day, her hair golden and shining, her face flawless, her lips just a perfect shade of rosy red. Her suit was spotless, at least for now and gave her the air of the epitome of cool, neat professionalism. She was just perfect, ripe for gunging, crying out for a sliming.
Miss Blossom turned round.
"Hello Daisy," she said. Once more Daisy was rendered speechless in the presence of this flaxen haired beauty and could only manage to move her mouth silently.
"What's the matter? Were you looking for me?" Daisy found her voice from somewhere.
"Er, yes, er... yes, I was..." She blushed, embarrassed by her lack of composure.
"Are you here to give me some bad news perhaps?" Miss Blossom asked. Daisy pulled herself together, come on, this wouldn't do at all.
"I'm afraid so Miss Blossom," she replied, "I've just been to see Mr. Brown and he says that we've reached the £2000 target. Exceeded it by some way in fact."
"Oh dear, oh dear," said the teacher, and pulled a mock sad face, though she was struggling to conceal her obvious inner delight. "You mean to say that all the good people who came to this fete have given their money and now I have to give my self up into your hand and let myself be subjected to whatever horrible gungy punishment you twisted girls have come up with?" She could barely disguise her smile after this speech, and Daisy found her enthusiasm to be rather infectious.
"I'm afraid so, Miss B!"
"You wicked, wicked girls," said the teacher playfully, "I'm on tenter hooks waiting to find out what you've got in store for me!"
"Oh it's going to be special Miss B, very special!" cried Daisy who was by now bouncing up and down on her tiptoes with excitement, she just couldn't contain herself.
"In the hall is it? Where everyone can see me?"
"Oh yes, the hall is where we've set up your doom!"
"Oh no! I bet it's going to be absolutely horrible!"
"It certainly is!" The two ladies were working themselves up into a frenzy of mutual excitement.
Then came the hammer blow.
"Right, tell everyone I'll be there in ten minutes, I just have to get changed first..." and with that she turned on her heel and headed off for the school buildings.
Disaster!
Daisy's face fell, her heart sank, she stopped bouncing with joy and instead slumped her shoulders in disappointment. No! It couldn't be! Why oh why had she never even contemplated that she would have brought a change of clothes and that she would change into them first. After all this! After building her expectation up so much, after sending the signals that she understood gunging and that it needed to be done in proper, nice looking clothes, after so much anticipation, Miss Blossom had cruelly, wantonly dashed Daisy's hopes to smithereens.
She wondered what she was going to change in to. A baggy t-shirt probably, jogging bottoms, maybe an old pair of battered trainers if she was lucky. Daisy felt like just falling to her knees right then and there and crying. She restrained herself however, and joined the general movement of the crowd and trudged off towards the hall to watch the gunging with a heavy heart.
Daisy examined her feelings. Why was she being like this? Come on, pull yourself together Daiz - the gunging was still going ahead, the pool and the dunktank were still going to be used, Miss Blossom was still going to get completely covered. And yet there was a fly in the ointment, the plan wasn't being completed exactly how she'd imagined. Her various exploits over the past few days with the barrels in the garage had given her a good grounding in the subject of gunging and one major conclusion she had come to was that the outfit was key. It was all very well to wear something comfortable and that felt good, but this was a public, not a private sliming. The whole point was to start out looking smart and sexy and then to have that image totally and utterly ruined.
She had thought that Miss Blossom understood this too. Every sign she'd gotten from her said that she was intimately acquainted with the subtle nuances of how to make a sliming successful and how to make it fun both for the gungee and the audience. Then came this slap in the face. Daisy just couldn't comprehend it. A chilling thought struck her: Maybe she was odd after all, maybe it was really strange for her to have gunged herself. Miss Blossom must have been doing it for the money all along, there was noone who found this stuff fun except for her, Daisy the little freak.
It was so dispiriting having come so close to perfection, to have found the proper T.V. style gunge on the internet, to have found the swimming pool, to have had Mr. Drake spend all his time and effort first drawing up plans then building with his bare hands the dunktank. Now it was all for nothing, everything was a waste, or so it seemed at that moment to Daisy. The gunging had come so very close to how she'd imagined it, but that just emphasised the lack of perfection, it seemed to mock her.
She could barely see the people around her, she held her head down, looking dispiritedly at the floor as she was swept along with the great torrent of humanity heading in the general direction of the school hall. All around her there was excited chatter:
"Is it time?"
"Yeah, it's time alright!"
"Is this the right way?"
"Yes, it's happening in the hall."
"Miss Blossom's gonna get it!"
"Cool!"
Every little comment that she overheard stung like an arrow. Didn't these people get it? There was no point to this any more, there was nothing to be exited about after what Miss Blossom had said. Daisy shrank further into her shell.
The hall was very large, much bigger than the school really needed on a regular basis, but on this occasion its size was going to be fully utilized. There was quite a din in there already, the busy chatter of the incoming people drifting up towards the high ceiling. As it was a special occasion the charity committee had been able to get permission to have the temporary seating banks erected that were usually only used for things like school plays. This was good as the seating banks had a decent rake to them, meaning everyone could get a good view of the stage. The heavy dark blue curtains were firmly closed, concealing the apparatus of doom and keeping the growing audience in suspense.
Already the hall was over three quarters full and there were still huge numbers of people outside queuing to get in. Daisy would have had severe difficulties finding a good seat were it not for the fact that as a member of the charity committee she'd had one reserved for her. She slowly made her way to it, her brain still on autopilot, her senses still dazed. Every single person around her was bubbling with enthusiasm, but not her, not Daisy. She found her designated seat and plopped herself down and slumped forward and continued her private little sulk.
The seats were virtually all filled now, but still the people streamed in, they filled the aisles and crammed into the doorways, there was not an inch of room left in view of the stage that could possibly accommodate someone. Daisy looked around. She just couldn't comprehend why these people were so happy, why their faces were so full of hope. Why did they not realise? This was all in vain, all the countless dreams she'd had were ultimately going to end in disappointment, all the plans were ruined.
The atmosphere was electric now, the audience were eager for the main event. Daisy was left cold though, she was an island of despair in a sea of happiness. Some bright spark started stomping their feet and soon the whole crowd had joined in. The temporary stands shook, they were in danger of collapse, the audience were baying for the gunge but every stomp was a killer blow to Daisy, she was still utterly miserable.
Realising that he would have to do something or he would soon have a riot on his hands, Mr. Brown stood up and called for order. He clapped his hands several times, his usual way of attracting attention, but they payed him no heed. Eventually he had to resort to shouting rather loudly and enlisting the help of several teachers to quell the more rowdy elements of the mob. Over five minutes later he was finally ready to begin; he puffed out his chest and proceeded to proclaim:
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome one and all to the annual Sploshington Girls' School Grand Summer Fete. It is indeed a very gratifying sight for me to see so many of you here today to support our school. I hope that you have all had a very good time, I was walking around the stalls a little while earlier and it certainly seemed to me that a good deal of fun was being had.
"Sploshington Girls' School has a very proud history. Our academic record is superb, easily the best in the region, and while we have not of course received this year's results as yet, I gather from my staff that there is no cause for alarm. In fact I believe we may we'll be on course for our best grades ever. The senior netball team has come top of their league, continuing a run of five straight titles and the hockey team came a very close second - not that it's the winning that counts of course, its the effort and sense of fair play. In addition to all this the drama and musical scene at Sploshington is as strong as it always has been."
Oh no, thought Daisy, not only has the day been ruined but now she was going to have to sit through one of Mr. Brown's interminably uninteresting speeches. When would the man realise the truth that was evident to everyone else, that he was profoundly dull?
"The girls who attend Sploshington are extremely privileged to come here, but they have always been willing, nay eager to help those less fortunate than themselves both within the local community and further afield. This time however I think we have surpassed ourselves. When this idea was first presented to me I have to admit that I had severe reservations. I was not convinced about either the practicalities or about the level of interest such an event would generate."
Wow this guy loves the sound of his own voice, thought Daisy as she descended further into her miasma of gloom.
"However my doubts were positively swept away thanks in no small matter to the tremendous efforts of the Sploghington School Charity Committee." The crowd had been growing more restless by the word and this was the opportunity they had been looking for to break the shackles of silence. An enormous wave of applause spread through the audience and Daisy roused herself enough to notice that a lot of people were looking admiringly at her. Fools! she thought, there was nothing to be pleased about, it was all a big let down. However she still managed to smile weakly and give a small wave to her deluded fans. Mr. Brown managed to wrest control back and continued:
"Yes, yes, thank you very much charity committee, you've made logistics go like a charm. A very big thank you is also due to all of you as well, as your generosity has been quite amazing. The splendid girls of the maths club have been very busy, not just today but over the past week, and they have counted up all your donations. I am flabbergasted, ladies and gentlemen by the enormity of the sum that you have given. I have it written down here and can now reveal to you that the grand total of your donations is," he paused for a second for dramatic effect. Daisy wasn't feeling it though. "Eight thousand, three hundred and twenty-two pounds and fifty pence, it's a new school record!"
The audience cheered and applauded themselves for several minutes. Daisy was comforted somewhat by this, it was a very large amount after all and it was all going to charity. But what was all the money for? She knew that today wasn't about the money, it was about the gunge, and that was ultimately going to be a disappointment. After a bit more self congratulation the crowd quietend down enough for the headmaster to carry on:
"Well done, you've all surpassed yourselves. Now I don't want to go on for too long," too late thought Daisy, "so I'll make my last point and then get off the stage. Finally I want to say a big thank you to the one person who has made today possible more than anyone else. The woman who has been the catalyst for this great outpouring of giving, who despite the fact that she's only been at Sploshington for a relatively short space of time has shown wonderful school spirit. The woman who has made a great personal sacrifice and deserves nothing but praise: Miss Blossom."
At the mention of her name the audience let out their loudest cheer yet, clapping of hands, stomping of feet, general expressions of riotous appreciation. They continued for ages, Mr. Brown making calming gestures franticly but to no avail. Daisy looked at the people like they were mad, there was no reason in the world to be happy, this was the worst day ever. The headmaster eventually gave up his unequal fight to regain some form of control and contented himself by shouting out the announcement of his departure:
"Thank you! Thank you very much! Now I'd like to hand over proceedings to a member of the charity committee!" he bellowed before beating a retreat from the stage and taking cover.
It was Alice who had put herself forward to me the mistress of ceremonies and Daisy was not surprised; in addition to being on the charity committee she was one of the leading lights of the drama society, and would enjoy a chance to hog the limelight. She bounded onto the stage with her best cheesy showbiz smile. At least there was no chance of her being as boring as Mr. Brown had been, thought Daisy.
"Good afternoon Sploshington!" she yelled, "are you having a good time?" The crowd responded with a few cheers, a few whoops and a few cries of "yes!", but this wasn't good enough for Alice.
"I can't hear you, I said are you having a good time?"
"Yes! The audience responded with a slightly more coherent, and crucially louder voice this time.
"Excellent! Woo!" She bounced around on the front of the stage while the audience clapped and cheered some more.
"Are you ready for the what you've been waiting for?"
"Yes!"
"Well that's good because..." here her voice dropped to a dramatic stage whisper, "...it's been an awesome fete, everyone's had some fun, we've all raised some cash...but now, now it's time for..." she crescendoed suddenly up to a huge roar, "THE MAIN EVENT!" The audience went absolutely wild, they were frenzied now, practically screaming. Alice was sure enjoying her little turn in the spotlight, thought Daisy, she was enjoying it even more than her recent star turn in Cats. Still, she was good at her job, she worked the crowd like a master.
"It's time for the slime!" she yelled, provoking new, unknown heights of excitement. "Remember that our victim has no idea what we have planned, this will be a complete surprise to her. Shall we open the curtains and reveal what we have in store for her?"
"Yes!"
"Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
"I can't hear you, I said are you ready?"
"YES!" That truly ear-splitting response seemed to at last satiate Alice and she gestured to unseen stagehands to pull open the curtains that had been hiding the rest of the stage through all this time. The crowd was quietened for a minute, gasps and whispered "ewws" were suddenly the order of the day rather than the shouts of a moment before.
Even Daisy, who knew what was coming was slightly shocked. They'd sensibly covered the floor with clear plastic sheeting that reflected the harsh stage lighting and gave everything sitting on it an almost ethereal glow. The pool looked even bigger than she remembered now that it was standing on the stage, filling almost all of the available room. It was filled to within six inches of the brim with the familiar gunge, they'd simply tipped it in with no attempt to mix it together to make it homogenous, so that there were isolated pools of blue, purple and green. It looked better than it had ever looked before now it was all dumped together in a multicolored splodge, the stagelights giving it a shimmer and glisten that emphasised the gunge's horribly slimy qualities.
The dunking machine looked surprisingly professional given it's home grown origins in Mr. Drake's workshop and the short amount of time he'd had to knock it together. A large amount of jet black sheeting had been tacked on to cover most of the inner workings making it look like a tall, brooding dark box, not dissimilar to something Stanley Kubric would feature in one of his films, only with a gap in its middle section for a chair made of black plastic with a bright red 'X' emblazoned on the seat. An ominously large nozzle directly above this contributed to the impression that the chair might not be an entirely safe place to sit down. The controls were situated right next to the tank and were just as Mr. Drake had described, with two big, important looking levers, one red and one yellow. The outer ring of the pool had been decorated with a number of paintings of abstract splodges obviously meant to represent blobs of slime and a gigantic banner had been erected over it bearing the legend: "Gunge Miss Blossom!" It was a brilliant setup, a beautiful sight and the audience loved it.
Daisy was captivated too for a second. Then the memory of twenty minutes earlier came back to her: "I just have to get changed first..." The smart sexy suit was safe in the girls' changing room, her dreams had been shattered and the apparatus in front of her wasn't going to ruin it as she had hoped. The wonderful machinery in front of her was impotent. It was an abuse to use such a fantastic setup to mess up someone in ugly, old clothes, why couldn't anyone else see this? It was positively painful for Daisy to watch, she was on the verge of bursting into tears, she couldn't bare to look any more. She turned her eyes away and stared down at her feet, slumping even further down in her seat, all in all she was in a state of complete desolation.
The crowd had begun to clap rhythmically, the sound pounded into Daisy's skull, her mood decreased in inverse proportion to the anticipation level of the crowd. Alice decided to whip the crowd up further.
"Shall we bring on the victim? Do you want to see her?" she cried.
"YES!" screamed the crowd with one voice as Daisy's head sunk down even more.
It might have seemed like the noise had reached its peak, but what had gone before was nothing to the eruption of sheer cacophony that occurred at that moment. Wild applause rapturous shouts, the stamping of feet, all of these contributed to an absolutely deafening decibel level, it put the noise of a football crowd to shame, it was louder than an aircraft taking off.
Daisy tried to shut this out for a while, but then she became aware of a strange quality to the reaction of the audience. Along with the normal cheers that she'd heard before there were numerous wolfwhistles and catcalls and the male voices seemed to be giving particular appreciation. There seemed to be a certain amount of trouser readjustment going on Daisy noticed as she glanced around the crowd before finally turning her gaze towards the stage.
Her heart stopped.
Joy! Extacy! Happiness unbounded! Daisy was jerked out of her gloomy mood in a nanosecond, her emotions soared higher than an eagle's eyrie. Everything made sense, everything was alright now, everything was perfect again. That was why she was going to get changed, of course! Daisy should never have doubted her for a minute. She felt shock, excitement, relief, she went through all the ratcheting up of mood that Alice had gotten from the crowd over the last fifteen minutes in about five seconds. She leapt to her feet and joined the frenzied cheering, shouting: "Go Miss Blossom! Wooooooo!" The audience stood with her and gave the figure that had stepped on to the stage a standing ovation of epic proportions.
Miss Blossom had had to be led out of the wings by an assistant as she had on a thick blindfold to keep the method of her downfall a secret for a while longer. Her lovely golden tresses had been styled in two long pigtails tied at the ends with red ribbons and a little white flower was tucked behind her ear. A straw boater with a wide, clean red band adorned her head. Her makeup had be done more heavily, more stereotypically than before, but still with great skill and it still brought out her inherent beauty and stayed well below slapper levels. She had deep red lips and smoldering mascara but her most noticeable feature was the pattern of three brown dots drawn on each of her flawless cheeks to make stylised freckles, very, very cute.
It was apparent from just these small details that Miss Blossom had decided to dress up for her gunging in a schoolgirl costume. How fantastic! What a brilliant idea! A teacher, a grown woman dressed as a schoolgirl, what a delicious role reversal, and her face just radiated a delectable vulnerability. She had on a bright, dazzlingly white shirt with a buttoned up collar and a Sploshington school tie pulled up to her neck. Over this she was wearing a tight fitting crimson blazer with a Sploshington school badge on it. She in fact had dressed up as a schoolgirl at the very school she was a teacher at! What wonderful irony! What a brilliant touch!
Daisy had severe doubts about whether this particular uniform would ever get past the teachers' strict gaze. Her quite fabulous legs were clad in fishnet tights and her skirt was rather short, pleated and made of sexy black leather. Lovely! That wasn't even the most outrageous part of her outfit either.
Miss Blossom's boots were not the ones she was wearing earlier, though they were also made of black leather. They had a pointed toe, a thin heel, a tall heel over five inches high, and an inch platform. The zips on the inside went up to the calf. The shafts of the boots had a dull matt finish and were a little loose on the leg, but in a nice, sexy way. The shafts reached up past her elegant calves, up to her knees - and then up past the knee for a good nine inches. Thigh high boots! Miss Blossom was wearing thigh high boots!
The wolfwhistles continued, and Daisy joined in with enthusiasm. She couldn't believe it! Miss Blossom, her fantastically attractive teacher, standing there with her pigtails in her schoolgirl outfit, her leather miniskirt and thigh high boots was the sexiest sight she'd ever seen, and what was even better was that she was about to get totally slimed.
She was taking little nervous steps back and forth as she took in the reaction of the audience, her skirt flapping against her fishneted legs, she was tugging gently at the tops of her incredible boots and had a huge smile on her face. She had been uncertain at first but was swept along with the crowds applause and was by now quite clearly loving being the centre of attention. Alice decided to conduct a little impromptu interview with the victim to prolong her agony.
"Hello Miss Blossom!" she said to her.
"Hello," the teacher looked about a little bewildered as she of course was still wearing the blindfold. "Is that you Alice?"
"Yes, it's me!" Alice was positively relishing the situation of being in charge. "How are you feeling right now Miss Blossom?"
"Hee hee!" she gave out a little giggle, "right now I'm a wee bit nervous!" Nervous she may have been, anxious to know what was going to happen to herself perhaps, but there wasn't even the tiniest smidgen of embarrassment as she stood there dressed like a sexy schoolgirl in a blindfold.
"Well I think you should be afraid, Miss Blossom, you should be very afraid!" crowed the mistress of ceremonies.
"Oh no!"
"Oh yes! Do you want to see what's in store for you?"
"Not really Alice, I'm sure it's going to be absolutely awful!" She stretched out the last word to try to impart some verisimilitude, but it was quite obvious to every single person in the hall that she couldn't wait for what was coming to her, she was dying for the slime.
"Well that's too bad Miss Blossom, because I can now reveal that what's going to happen to you....is THIS!" And with that Alice whipped away the blindfold with one smooth movement.
Miss Blossom's eyes grew until they were the size of saucers and her mouth hung wide open, her entire face a picture of pure astonishment. She drank in the size of the pool, the depth of the gunge, the seat inside the box that she didn't know precisely what was for but couldn't be good news. She had been expecting something good, but this was quite clearly beyond her wildest dreams. Her face suddenly broke its mask of disbelief and she broke out in a huge smile.
"Wooo!" she screamed, and jumped up and down with joy and excitement.
The audience had started their rhythmic hand clap again, they were baying for the gorgeous schoolgirl in front of them to take the slime. They began to chant as well:
"Gunge! Gunge! Gunge!"
Alice lead Miss Blossom to the chair of doom where she slowly and gingerly sat down right on the big red 'X'. She sat bolt upright, her clenched fists resting on her lap her eyes screwed tightly shut, quivering with emotion. Alice pulled the yellow lever forward. There was a rumbling, churning sound and a few bubbles appeared on the hitherto placid surface of the pool. The tension was killing Miss Blossom and it wasn't doing much good for Daisy either.
"Are you ready for the gunge!" yelled Alice at the top of her voice.
"YES!" screamed the crowd as one.
"Let's have a countdown from ten! Ten!"
"Nine! Eight!"
The entire audience had joined in now, marking the seconds till Miss Blossom met her fate.
"Seven! Six!" Daisy just couldn't believe it, from the depths of despair she had been lifted and now the whole scene was absolute perfection.
"Five! Four!"
Daisy couldn't take her eyes off the stage, she gazed fixatedly at the sight of the sexy schoolgirl in the dunktank.
"Three!"
Miss Blossom started shaking even more now and started a high pitched squeal of excitement.
"Two!"
Her squealing intensified.
"One!"
There was a pause, a moment of complete silence. Daisy held her breath. The audience held their breath. Miss Blossom stopped her squealing and held her breath. Alice the executioner pushed the yellow lever and time seemed to go in slow motion.
A great torrent of mainly purple gunge gushed out of the nozzle and knocked her straw hat off. It impacted on her head and fountained off in a great plume. Her lovely blonde hair was being coated in gunk the nice little flower behind her ear had been swept away, the slime was dripping off the ends of her pigtails. The river changed colour to being largely blue now and it poured down over her jacket, soaking in to the thick material. The blazer couldn't protect her white shirt either, it was being stained beyond repair by the gunge and it oozed down her front, some gunge going over her collar and some seeping inside it to slide over her bare skin.
There was over a gallon held in the tank and the torrent kept coming, a load of green gunge pooled in her leather clad lap where it proceeded to run off and seep into her tights. Her boots had escaped most of the damage, at least on the outside, but a good deal of gunge had found its way inside them, ending up squidging around her lovely fishnet clad feet.
Daisy could only imagine was Miss Blossom was going through, what that gunging must have felt like, but she had a clue from the fact that she was screaming throughout, a great primal yell of sheer pleasure. This was almost drowned out by the accompanying roar from the crowd going absolutely wild as they saw the pretty teacher get totally gunged.
As soon as the dunktank stopped the cruel, callous Alice placed both her hands on the red lever and pulled it with great force. The mechanism that Mr. Drake had constructed worked like a charm, a spring at the back powered the plastic seat forward. Miss Blossom was thrust upwards and outwards over the middle of the swimming pool, limbs flailing. She hung in the air for a moment, then she plunged into the gunge in disappeared from sight amongst an immense splash of slime. The audience were on there feet again, they were going absolutely bananas, shouts, screams, whoops, a wall of noise. Daisy was with them, caught up in the wave of emotion, she could think of nothing other than being right here right now witnessing Miss Blossom being reduced to a gooey mess.
It took about thirty seconds, but at last she surfaced with a yell of joy spraying droplets of gunge everywhere. She struggled to her feet, unsteady under the cloying influence of the slime, finally she made it, though the gunk still came up almost to her waist. The gunge flowed off her, blue, purple, green, it fell off her matted hair, dripped of the end of her pigtails and ran out of the sleeves of her blazer, she had been reduced from the pretty, beautiful, sexy schoolgirl of before to a dripping, horrible, unrecognisable slimy mess. And she loved it. She raised her arms up in triumph and the crowd was with her, celebrating her sliming. She jumped up and down in the gunge a few times causing great waves to crash around the pool before flopping back down into the slime with exhaustion to just absorb the reaction of the audience.
Daisy was enraptured. This was better than she could have here dared to hope, she was emotionally drained, felt weak at the knees and had to sit down for a minute. Miss Blossom had somehow managed to locate her hat and she placed it back on her head, still full and screwed up her face in a comedy grimace as even more gunge cascaded over her ruined locks.
Mr. Brown let the adulation continue for a while but then hauled himself up back on to the stage (making very sure to keep well clear of all the mess of course) and prepared to wrap up proceedings. For once in his life he decided to be succinct.
"Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for attending the Splohington Girls' School Grand Summer Fete!" he shouted over the continuing noise of the crowd, "thank you charity committee! Thank you very much Miss Blossom! Please come again next year! Goodbye!" The audience gave a valedictory cheer and several more standing ovations as Miss Blossom waved to her fans. Finally they grew tired, quietend down and began to file slowly out.
Daisy took the opportunity to walk up to the stage to get a closer look at Miss Blossom. On closer examination her destruction was even more complete than had appeared from afar, there was not a square inch of her that was not covered in either blue or purple or green, the mess moved over her body in a disgusting fashion, she glistened wetly. At the moment she was attempting to do the breaststroke across the gunge pool. She was not having much success, but this didn't seem to be affecting her enjoyment much.
"Hee hee!" she said to Daisy, "no, I think it's just too difficult to swim in this skirt and these boots." She stood up and smiled at her. Daisy was enthralled, but for the first time in about a week she wasn't tongue tied.
"They look very nice though," she said.
"Thank you!" replied Miss Blossom, and took her leather skirt in her hands and performed a cute little curtsey, "but don't you think they're not looking their best at the moment?" Daisy examined her clothes. They were a mess. She looked at her face. It still had a sheen of slime over it, her makeup had been almost entirely washed away, but Daisy had truly never seen her looking more beautiful than she had at that moment.
"I think you're looking just fine," she said. Miss Blossom laughed and splashed the surface of the slime. A single droplet flew out and landed on Daisy's skirt. She stared at it.
"Sorry," said Miss Blossom.
"That's quite alright," she replied before wiping it off. Their eyes met. There was a mutual recognition of kindred spirits. The moment was broken by the rest of the charity committee coming up.
"Well Miss Blossom, how did you like it?" asked Alice.
"I loved it," grinned the teacher, "it was great fun. A very nice job with the setup by the way."
"That's OK, said Fran."
"Where did you get this swimming pool? And who on earth built that dunktank?" she asked.
"The pool's mine!" piped up Kirsty, "I thought it'd do nicely."
"And the dunktank was all Mr. Drake's doing," added Laura.
"Mr. Drake, eh? I'll have to thank him personally later," said Miss Blossom with a wicked smile.
The group was interrupted by Mr. Brown who coughed and said:
"Er, excuse me, Miss Blossom," he said hesitantly, "but there are a few gentlemen of the press here who'd like to meet you if that's not too much trouble..." An enthusiastic young man with a camera round his neck immediately pushed past him and introduced himself.
"Hi, Sam Scoop, Sploshington Gazette, " he spoke quickly, "I'd like to get a few pictures if that's alright with you Miss, er, Miss..."
"Blossom," replied Miss Blossom, "and I'd be delighted.
The blonde teacher needed no further encouragement and the rest of them stood back as she posed countless times for him, standing in the gunge, lying in it, swimming around in it. She smiled for him, she pulled goofy faces, she batted her eyelashes sexily at him. Some of the aspects she struck wouldn't have looked out of place in a page three shoot. Mr. Scoop lapped it up and used three rolls of film before at last being sated.
That wasn't it though, Daisy's mouth hung open in amazement as an entire film crew appeared as if from nowhere, announced that they were from the local news and they'd like to do a brief segment on this fundraising event for the evening report. Miss Blossom of course agreed to this, she was lapping up the attention, and went through her whole posing routine again for them. Then they asked if they could film the dunking again, she looked at them as if to say, I thought you were never going to ask, and climbed out of the pool.
The slime poured off her in waves and spattered onto the floor. It was a good job they'd had the foresight to put the plastic sheeting down, Daisy thought. With her hat back on for the first time in a while the schoolgirl costume was still just about recognisable under the layers of multicolored slime. She squelchily walked over to the seat but half way there she paused and said:
"Just a moment." She sat down in the middle of the floor and lifted her right leg in the air. A wet stream of gunge poured out of her thigh high boot and splashed on to the ground, some of it running down her leg and under her skirt, which must have been an interesting sensation. She then repeated the action with her left boot while Daisy suffered palpitations watching.
Miss Blossom sat back down on the seat and bounced up and down, eager for the return to the slime. It came soon enough and she screamed even louder, if that was possible, as she was unceremoniously dumped back into the pit of slime. The camera crew wanted it done again, of course, and then again from a different angle, and then again and again...
She revelled in the gunge, relishing the feeling every time a new load of slime was dumped on her head, and every time she was propelled back into the gunge. Miss Blossom loved gunge.
So too did Daisy. She had been right, this was the best day of her life.
Epilogue
The day was not over yet, of course. The T.V. people had finally had their fill and Miss Blossom had eventually staggered off to the showers, though without emptying her boots, a detail that Daisy did not fail to notice. She had gone shouting over her shoulder:
"In a state like this I might just go in the shower fully clothed!" which had made Daisy feel weak at the knees.
Now she was alone, everyone was off doing their own cleanup related jobs leaving Daisy the task of getting the gunge out of the pool and back into the three large barrels. She wasn't doing this right now, however. Now she was just standing on the stage, waiting, reflecting. It was peaceful in there for the first time in a long time, and Daisy was thinking back over what had happened.
She walked up to the dunktank. It looked almost familiar to her now, though it had lost none of its dark looming presence. She sat down in the chair and settled back. She just wanted to see what it was like, to imagine what Miss Blossom would have been feeling when she sat on it for the first time, the crowd shouting and screaming and counting down the seconds to her gooey annihilation.
Suddenly Daisy felt very naughty indeed. She realised that with all the commotion caused by the multiple dunkings required by the cameraman she had no idea whether the tank hovering above her head had been left loaded or not. She could reach the controls from the seat. She could play a gungy game of Russian roulette with herself if she wanted. A fifty-fifty chance, either she got off scot free, remained totally clean if the tank was empty. Or, if it was full, she got a sliming. She felt excited, tense. If she did get slimed she had no change of clothes with her. She would have to at the very least run the gauntlet through the still very busy carpark to her car before she could drive home for a shower. People would see her, there was no excuse for her to be messy, she wasn't raising any money.
She was very tense now, certain she was going to do it, and felt very naughty indeed. Daisy looked down at her stripy top, her black skirt, her long socks, her boots.
She pulled the yellow lever.
Nothing happened for a moment. Then Daisy's world went dark. The wet impact dislodged her hat, slammed into her head, sploshed everywhere. This was such a brilliant feeling! Such a different feeling from the barrels, more violent, she was being washed away in a tide of slime. The gunge ran down the back of her neck, down her front, into her lap, over her skirt, over her socks, into her boots. She loved it.
At long last the torrent stopped. She was left breathless. She didn't care about having to go through the carpark now, she didn't even think of it. All she could think about was the cold slime oozing over her and seeping into her clothes. Fantastic.
There were footsteps. Daisy's heart stopped. Some one was coming! Someone was going to find her! She was frozen for a moment, panic overwhelming her brain. There was no way out, what was she going to do? Hide, she must hide at once. She jumped down off the seat and looked around her. The footsteps were getting nearer now. Hurriedly she rang into the wings and hid herself behind a curtain.
The footsteps continued to approach, closer and closer, then stopped by the pool. Daisy dared to peek round the side of the curtain. She could just about make out a shadowy indistinct figure. It went up to the dunktank and paused, looking down at the floor. Oh no! Daisy thought, footprints, she must have left gungey footprints all along the ground. The figure turned and slowly began to approach Daisy's hiding place. She was petrified, rooted to the spot, her discovery was imminent. There was nothing she could do, nowhere she could run. She was quaking in her slightly slimy boots.
The curtain was swept aside.
"Daisy!" an astonished voice said.
"Miss Blossom!" said the equally amazed Daisy. The teacher had cleaned herself up thoroughly and was back wearing her smart trouser suit, a slight dampness of her hair being the only sign that she hadn't been so spotless a few minutes ago.
"You're all messy!" she exclaimed looking at Daisy's appearance, "What on earth has happened to you?" Daisy cringed. She found her voice from somewhere.
"I'm sorry Miss Blossom, er, I, er...had a little bit of an accident..." she said timidly.
"Really? An accident?"
"Yes Miss." She looked down at the ground in shame.
"Oh I don't think so Daisy," said Miss Blossom, "I don't think so at all." The girl cowered in fear. "I think you just slimed yourself on purpose. I've seen the way you've been looking at me these past few days." She stalked back towards the dunktank, her heels clicking authoritatively on the floor. "I've noticed the way you react to the mention of gunge." On that last word she pushed the yellow lever forward with a jerk.
"You like this, don't you? You enjoy being gunged, and seeing others being gunged as well?"
"Yes Miss," replied Daisy in the smallest voice imaginable.
"I bet you were looking forward to seeing me slimed, and I bet you were looking forward to me wearing this suit, weren't you?"
"Yes Miss."
"Well, continued Miss Blossom as she sat down in the chair, "would you like to see me gunged in this suit?"
Daisy's mouth fell open. There was silence. Miss Blossom slowly and coquettishly crossed her long, shapely legs.
"Well?" she pouted. Daisy was mesmerised. She looked at the gorgeous blonde and all her fear melted away. She felt it, felt the connection between herself and Miss Blossom, she just knew that this was right. She walked over to the controls and placed her hand on the yellow lever. She gazed into her eyes. Miss Blossom gazed back, and nodded slightly. Daisy looked at her, the beautiful woman sitting there awaiting the slime, the very image of sexy professionalism in her smart, elegant, pristine black trouser suit.
She pulled the lever. The slime fell on top of Miss Blossom, the gunge splattered all over her, this was incredible. She stayed sitting bolt upright as the ooze covered her, and in contrast to her previous dunkings was absolutely silent. Daisy was extatic, the beautiful suit was being ruined just like in her dreams. No, not like her dreams, this was better, this was real, this was actually happening.
Daisy pulled the red lever without hesitation, and Miss Blossom was plunged into the huge pool of gunge once more. When she rose she was utterly changed, any air of authority any vestige of smartness gone, buried under the mound of disgusting, horrible, fantastic slime.
Miss Blossom reached out her arm and beckoned seductively with a messy finger.
"Do you want to join me?" she breathed.
Daisy nodded, dumbly. She ran forward and vaulted over the side of the pool, embracing the gunge, letting it rule her emotions. Miss Blossom moved her face close to hers. She wiped a slimy strand of hair away from Daisy's face.
"Gunge is lovely." she purred, and leaned in. Their lips met in a passionate, sloppy, messy kiss, their tongues mingling. They embraced tenderly and gradually sank below the surface of the slime.
The rest, dear reader, shall be left to them...
Part Four
The morning of the fete dawned. Daisy lay in bed, wide awake, looking at the Sun's rays streaming through her thin curtains. Last night she'd been afraid that there might be bad weather, causing the postponement, or worse the cancellation of the day's events. But no, the bright sunshine outside confirmed that the day would be fine and warm. She could sense it, taste it: The day ahead was sure to be the best day of her life.
The omens were good: The high target of £300 pounds donated from each and every year had been exceeded comfortably. The subject of gunge seemed to have captured the imagination of the whole school, it seemed every other conversation at Sploshington was about the impending doom of Miss Blossom. Surprisingly her reputation as a young, cool teacher had not been affected at all. Indeed, quite the opposite; she was if possible even more popular than ever.
Speculation was rife as to her reasons for volunteering for this treatment. The general consensus was that she wanted to do something good for charity and that she didn't mind a bit of mess. So far though only a select few actually knew how spectacular a sliming was in store, most thought it wouldn't be anything worse than maybe a few pies and the odd bucket of custard.
Rumours also abounded about there having two rather hefty donations from teachers - the two prime suspects were Mr. Drake and Miss Blossom. Whatever the source of income the fact remained that the only obstacle remaining was the £2000 pound target of money to be raised on the day.
Every year the fete had a theme and this year, to coincide with the completion of a certain movie franchise the theme this year was pirates. Daisy had therefore assembled an appropriate costume, as had all the other students involved in the running of the event. This consisted of a navy blue long sleeved top with thin white stripes, a black floaty skirt that was short but still respectable, black and white stripy long socks that were pulled up over her knees and a pair of pointy toed calf length black leather boots with a small heel.
As she got dressed after breakfast Daisy thought of Miss Blossom performing the same actions that morning. What would she feel like picking out and donning the clothes she knew that she would be gunged in? She wondered whether she would wear the suit that she always wore or whether she would cop out and wear some rubbishy old stuff. Daisy hoped against hope that it would be the suit.
Daisy put on a joke shop tri-cornered hat adorned with a jolly roger motif and looked at herself in the mirror. She was cute, very cute in that outfit, noone could resist donating money if she was asking. In fact it wouldn't half be a bad outfit to be gunged in. But no, that wasn't to be contemplated. For a start it was Miss Blossom's day, she daren't steal her thunder. Besides which Daisy wasn't too sure about public gungings yet.
It was time to get going, there was a lot of work to do. For a start it was going to take three trips in the car to get the barrels to school, then there were a million and one things to sort out. Daisy grabbed her car keys from her bedside table and went down to the garage.
Daisy pulled into the carpark for the third time that day. It had been a truly titanic battle getting the enormous barrels of gunge into the back of her somewhat battered old car on her own - if she hadn't been so committed to the cause she might have given up. As she was stepping out of the car she heard a familiar voice behind her:
"Morning Daisy!" Miss Blossom! Her heart was in her mouth. What was she wearing? Daisy held her breath and turned round.
There she was, the victim, the gorgeous blonde teacher, standing there hands on hips wearing her elegant, sharply cut black trouser suit, with a crisp white shirt and black leather boots. Joy! Daisy's dream had come true, she was actually going to go in the slime in her usual finery.
There was no sign of apprehension on Miss Blossom's face, she looked as cool, calm and collected as ever. Daisy however was slightly flustered at that moment, so it was up to the teacher to make the next conversational gambit:
"That look ominous," she said, gesturing at the huge mass jammed into the back of the car.
"Er, yes, yes indeed. Everything's going to plan," replied Daisy.
"I bet it is," she smiled. "Anyway, I can see you have a lot to do so I'd better leave you to it. Enjoy the fete!" And with that she turned on her heel and sashayed off.
Daisy was absolutely sure that she would enjoy the fete very much given Miss Blossom's choice of apparel.
It was that afternoon, the sun had kept shining, the rain clouds kept behaving and stayed away and the fete was shaping up to be a great success. After seeing how difficult it must have been for Daisy to bring the barrels on her own the other girls of the charity committee had immediately decided to take care of the rest of the gungy set up themselves and let her put her feet up for a while. Now though it was time for everyone to get busy, and all the girls were walking around in the crowds to shake buckets and gather cash. After all, there was a target to be reached.
The whole of the school's vast playing fields were taken up by the various activities of the fete. Everywhere you looked there were stalls and stands, everyone decked out with nautical or piratical decorations. Many of the attendees had gotten in to the spirit of things and there were more than a couple of eyepatches in evidence and a fair amount of (mercifully artificial) parrots on shoulders. It was a festival of colour and everyone was having fun.
At that precise moment in time Daisy was standing by the coconut shy being run by a man with a fake peg leg (or at least she hoped it was fake). A girl came up to her. Daisy half recognised her as being in the lower sixth, but she doubted she'd ever actually spoken to her.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," replied Daisy, "can I help you?"
"Yeah, that bucket, are you collecting for Miss Blossom's gunging?"
"It certainly is."
"Awesome!"
"I take it you wish to donate?"
"I sure do. Miss Blossom's great."
"Do you think so?"
"Yeah, she's raising loads of money, plus I bet it'll be loads of fun!"
"Will it?" Daisy asked quizzically.
"Yeah, she'll have a great time." With that the girl dropped several pounds into the bucket and walked away. Daisy was left bemused. If the girl was a representative sample then her exploits with the barrels in the garage weren't nearly as weird as she had first thought. Not that she was really bothered any more.
A little while later Daisy was still busy fundraising, but she'd given up keeping her vigil by the coconut shy and had decided to wander around for a bit. She was following the general Brownian motion of the crowd when a figure emerged from the masses and loomed in front of her. It was that master mechanic Mr. Drake.
"Hello there Daisy," he said, "how are things going?"
"Very well thank you Mr. Drake," she replied.
"Good good. Have you had a chance to admire my handiwork yet?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not Mr. Drake, the other girls were taking care of all the setting up this morning. I'll be sure to take a close look at the mechanism later though."
"You should, you should, do you know, I think it's probably the best thing I've ever made. It's going to be a fantastic day..." A strange, faraway look came into his eyes as he gazed into the distance. Daisy broke into his private reverie.
"Would you like to make a donation?" she asked.
"Oh, oh yes, yes of course." He returned his attention to the situation in hand and dug around in his pocket. "It's all for charity after all." Finally he found what he was looking for. "Here." He dropped something into her bucket and walked off.
Daisy examined what Mr. Drake had left. Well if everyone was as generous as him there would be no trouble getting to the target: He'd given fifty pounds.
Half an hour later Daisy was still pursuing a nomadic existence wandering through the crowd and her astonishment was rising. Everywhere she went there were people coming up to her with smiles on their faces and each and every one was eager to give her money.
"Hi, collecting for the slime? Have this."
"Donations? Sure, here you go."
"Please take this, it's all for a good cause after all."
A lot of people seemed very interested in the details of the gunging, asking what exactly what was going to take place, which she answered by saying she was sworn to secrecy, or enquiring as to precisely why Miss Blossom had volunteered to do it, which she answered by saying that they would have to ask her in person. To Daisy's bemusement the whole fete seemed to have gunge on its collective mind and she could feel the anticipation levels rising.
Daisy was also flabbergasted by the range of people who came up to her to give money. She thought the appeal of a gunging would be limited to the lower years, those who still watched messy kids' gameshows and maybe the odd girl wanting revenge for a bad mark. But no, the whole spectrum of society represented amongst the donators, from little children still in primary school to the fathers of girls in the upper sixth. Yes, there were a lot of dads reaching for their wallet she found...
Four o'clock was rapidly approaching and the crowd was thining somewhat. Daisy saw a familiar rather portly figure clad in a three piece tweed suit that had seen better days standing over by the merry-go-round casting a propriatorial eye over proceedings. When his patrician gaze lighted upon Daisy Mr. Brown hailed her in a stentorian voice:
"Ah, there you are!" She obligingly wet up to him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brown," she said meekly.
"Good afternoon, Daisy. I see you have been doing rather well for yourself."
"Yes I have, the bucket is getting rather heavy now." She took the opportunity to rest it on the ground for a while.
"Indeed, why just look at it, it's positively bulging.!" The headteacher was not wrong, Daisy had barely been able to carry it at all for the last ten minutes. Mr. Brown tucked his thumbs behind his lapels and puffed out his chest.
"A very impressive effort from you, young lady, and from all the other young ladies on the charity committee. This is probably the most money we've ever raised at the summer fete, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if it's the most money we've got from any event full stop. Everyone's shown a great sense of charity and desire to help others less fortunate than themselves. Tremendous school spirit." His eyes grew misty. "You know I feel very proud of Sploshington Girls' School at times like these..." He looked wistfully into the middle distance for a while before bringing himself back down to earth.
"Harumph, anyway. I believe we're well past the target I set. Go and drop that bucket off in the office with the rest of the money then be a good girl and fetch Miss Blossom would you." He moved away to lecture to some other unfortunate on the munificence of the school and its abundance of spirit.
Daisy couldn't believe that it was actually happening, that it was all coming true just as she'd imagined. They'd raised more than enough money, Miss Blossom was going to receive the gunging of her life and she'd decided to wear her suit. And she was to be the one to deliver the message of execution.
Daisy meandered around the fete in a dream like state searching for Miss Blossom, she was on cloud nine, her feet barely touched the ground. Something caught her eye. There she was! She admired view of the blonde teacher's back as she approached her. She was standing by one of the stalls that were selling a variety of inexpensive goods to the crowd. This particular one was selling a selection of home made cakes baked by the matronly lady's of the local Women's Institute. Miss Blossom was studying a very large cake with a great deal of thick, sloppy cream and had an interesting expression on her face.
Daisy stood back for a moment and admired her. She was looking particularly beautiful that day, her hair golden and shining, her face flawless, her lips just a perfect shade of rosy red. Her suit was spotless, at least for now and gave her the air of the epitome of cool, neat professionalism. She was just perfect, ripe for gunging, crying out for a sliming.
Miss Blossom turned round.
"Hello Daisy," she said. Once more Daisy was rendered speechless in the presence of this flaxen haired beauty and could only manage to move her mouth silently.
"What's the matter? Were you looking for me?" Daisy found her voice from somewhere.
"Er, yes, er... yes, I was..." She blushed, embarrassed by her lack of composure.
"Are you here to give me some bad news perhaps?" Miss Blossom asked. Daisy pulled herself together, come on, this wouldn't do at all.
"I'm afraid so Miss Blossom," she replied, "I've just been to see Mr. Brown and he says that we've reached the £2000 target. Exceeded it by some way in fact."
"Oh dear, oh dear," said the teacher, and pulled a mock sad face, though she was struggling to conceal her obvious inner delight. "You mean to say that all the good people who came to this fete have given their money and now I have to give my self up into your hand and let myself be subjected to whatever horrible gungy punishment you twisted girls have come up with?" She could barely disguise her smile after this speech, and Daisy found her enthusiasm to be rather infectious.
"I'm afraid so, Miss B!"
"You wicked, wicked girls," said the teacher playfully, "I'm on tenter hooks waiting to find out what you've got in store for me!"
"Oh it's going to be special Miss B, very special!" cried Daisy who was by now bouncing up and down on her tiptoes with excitement, she just couldn't contain herself.
"In the hall is it? Where everyone can see me?"
"Oh yes, the hall is where we've set up your doom!"
"Oh no! I bet it's going to be absolutely horrible!"
"It certainly is!" The two ladies were working themselves up into a frenzy of mutual excitement.
Then came the hammer blow.
"Right, tell everyone I'll be there in ten minutes, I just have to get changed first..." and with that she turned on her heel and headed off for the school buildings.
Disaster!
Daisy's face fell, her heart sank, she stopped bouncing with joy and instead slumped her shoulders in disappointment. No! It couldn't be! Why oh why had she never even contemplated that she would have brought a change of clothes and that she would change into them first. After all this! After building her expectation up so much, after sending the signals that she understood gunging and that it needed to be done in proper, nice looking clothes, after so much anticipation, Miss Blossom had cruelly, wantonly dashed Daisy's hopes to smithereens.
She wondered what she was going to change in to. A baggy t-shirt probably, jogging bottoms, maybe an old pair of battered trainers if she was lucky. Daisy felt like just falling to her knees right then and there and crying. She restrained herself however, and joined the general movement of the crowd and trudged off towards the hall to watch the gunging with a heavy heart.
Daisy examined her feelings. Why was she being like this? Come on, pull yourself together Daiz - the gunging was still going ahead, the pool and the dunktank were still going to be used, Miss Blossom was still going to get completely covered. And yet there was a fly in the ointment, the plan wasn't being completed exactly how she'd imagined. Her various exploits over the past few days with the barrels in the garage had given her a good grounding in the subject of gunging and one major conclusion she had come to was that the outfit was key. It was all very well to wear something comfortable and that felt good, but this was a public, not a private sliming. The whole point was to start out looking smart and sexy and then to have that image totally and utterly ruined.
She had thought that Miss Blossom understood this too. Every sign she'd gotten from her said that she was intimately acquainted with the subtle nuances of how to make a sliming successful and how to make it fun both for the gungee and the audience. Then came this slap in the face. Daisy just couldn't comprehend it. A chilling thought struck her: Maybe she was odd after all, maybe it was really strange for her to have gunged herself. Miss Blossom must have been doing it for the money all along, there was noone who found this stuff fun except for her, Daisy the little freak.
It was so dispiriting having come so close to perfection, to have found the proper T.V. style gunge on the internet, to have found the swimming pool, to have had Mr. Drake spend all his time and effort first drawing up plans then building with his bare hands the dunktank. Now it was all for nothing, everything was a waste, or so it seemed at that moment to Daisy. The gunging had come so very close to how she'd imagined it, but that just emphasised the lack of perfection, it seemed to mock her.
She could barely see the people around her, she held her head down, looking dispiritedly at the floor as she was swept along with the great torrent of humanity heading in the general direction of the school hall. All around her there was excited chatter:
"Is it time?"
"Yeah, it's time alright!"
"Is this the right way?"
"Yes, it's happening in the hall."
"Miss Blossom's gonna get it!"
"Cool!"
Every little comment that she overheard stung like an arrow. Didn't these people get it? There was no point to this any more, there was nothing to be exited about after what Miss Blossom had said. Daisy shrank further into her shell.
The hall was very large, much bigger than the school really needed on a regular basis, but on this occasion its size was going to be fully utilized. There was quite a din in there already, the busy chatter of the incoming people drifting up towards the high ceiling. As it was a special occasion the charity committee had been able to get permission to have the temporary seating banks erected that were usually only used for things like school plays. This was good as the seating banks had a decent rake to them, meaning everyone could get a good view of the stage. The heavy dark blue curtains were firmly closed, concealing the apparatus of doom and keeping the growing audience in suspense.
Already the hall was over three quarters full and there were still huge numbers of people outside queuing to get in. Daisy would have had severe difficulties finding a good seat were it not for the fact that as a member of the charity committee she'd had one reserved for her. She slowly made her way to it, her brain still on autopilot, her senses still dazed. Every single person around her was bubbling with enthusiasm, but not her, not Daisy. She found her designated seat and plopped herself down and slumped forward and continued her private little sulk.
The seats were virtually all filled now, but still the people streamed in, they filled the aisles and crammed into the doorways, there was not an inch of room left in view of the stage that could possibly accommodate someone. Daisy looked around. She just couldn't comprehend why these people were so happy, why their faces were so full of hope. Why did they not realise? This was all in vain, all the countless dreams she'd had were ultimately going to end in disappointment, all the plans were ruined.
The atmosphere was electric now, the audience were eager for the main event. Daisy was left cold though, she was an island of despair in a sea of happiness. Some bright spark started stomping their feet and soon the whole crowd had joined in. The temporary stands shook, they were in danger of collapse, the audience were baying for the gunge but every stomp was a killer blow to Daisy, she was still utterly miserable.
Realising that he would have to do something or he would soon have a riot on his hands, Mr. Brown stood up and called for order. He clapped his hands several times, his usual way of attracting attention, but they payed him no heed. Eventually he had to resort to shouting rather loudly and enlisting the help of several teachers to quell the more rowdy elements of the mob. Over five minutes later he was finally ready to begin; he puffed out his chest and proceeded to proclaim:
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome one and all to the annual Sploshington Girls' School Grand Summer Fete. It is indeed a very gratifying sight for me to see so many of you here today to support our school. I hope that you have all had a very good time, I was walking around the stalls a little while earlier and it certainly seemed to me that a good deal of fun was being had.
"Sploshington Girls' School has a very proud history. Our academic record is superb, easily the best in the region, and while we have not of course received this year's results as yet, I gather from my staff that there is no cause for alarm. In fact I believe we may we'll be on course for our best grades ever. The senior netball team has come top of their league, continuing a run of five straight titles and the hockey team came a very close second - not that it's the winning that counts of course, its the effort and sense of fair play. In addition to all this the drama and musical scene at Sploshington is as strong as it always has been."
Oh no, thought Daisy, not only has the day been ruined but now she was going to have to sit through one of Mr. Brown's interminably uninteresting speeches. When would the man realise the truth that was evident to everyone else, that he was profoundly dull?
"The girls who attend Sploshington are extremely privileged to come here, but they have always been willing, nay eager to help those less fortunate than themselves both within the local community and further afield. This time however I think we have surpassed ourselves. When this idea was first presented to me I have to admit that I had severe reservations. I was not convinced about either the practicalities or about the level of interest such an event would generate."
Wow this guy loves the sound of his own voice, thought Daisy as she descended further into her miasma of gloom.
"However my doubts were positively swept away thanks in no small matter to the tremendous efforts of the Sploghington School Charity Committee." The crowd had been growing more restless by the word and this was the opportunity they had been looking for to break the shackles of silence. An enormous wave of applause spread through the audience and Daisy roused herself enough to notice that a lot of people were looking admiringly at her. Fools! she thought, there was nothing to be pleased about, it was all a big let down. However she still managed to smile weakly and give a small wave to her deluded fans. Mr. Brown managed to wrest control back and continued:
"Yes, yes, thank you very much charity committee, you've made logistics go like a charm. A very big thank you is also due to all of you as well, as your generosity has been quite amazing. The splendid girls of the maths club have been very busy, not just today but over the past week, and they have counted up all your donations. I am flabbergasted, ladies and gentlemen by the enormity of the sum that you have given. I have it written down here and can now reveal to you that the grand total of your donations is," he paused for a second for dramatic effect. Daisy wasn't feeling it though. "Eight thousand, three hundred and twenty-two pounds and fifty pence, it's a new school record!"
The audience cheered and applauded themselves for several minutes. Daisy was comforted somewhat by this, it was a very large amount after all and it was all going to charity. But what was all the money for? She knew that today wasn't about the money, it was about the gunge, and that was ultimately going to be a disappointment. After a bit more self congratulation the crowd quietend down enough for the headmaster to carry on:
"Well done, you've all surpassed yourselves. Now I don't want to go on for too long," too late thought Daisy, "so I'll make my last point and then get off the stage. Finally I want to say a big thank you to the one person who has made today possible more than anyone else. The woman who has been the catalyst for this great outpouring of giving, who despite the fact that she's only been at Sploshington for a relatively short space of time has shown wonderful school spirit. The woman who has made a great personal sacrifice and deserves nothing but praise: Miss Blossom."
At the mention of her name the audience let out their loudest cheer yet, clapping of hands, stomping of feet, general expressions of riotous appreciation. They continued for ages, Mr. Brown making calming gestures franticly but to no avail. Daisy looked at the people like they were mad, there was no reason in the world to be happy, this was the worst day ever. The headmaster eventually gave up his unequal fight to regain some form of control and contented himself by shouting out the announcement of his departure:
"Thank you! Thank you very much! Now I'd like to hand over proceedings to a member of the charity committee!" he bellowed before beating a retreat from the stage and taking cover.
It was Alice who had put herself forward to me the mistress of ceremonies and Daisy was not surprised; in addition to being on the charity committee she was one of the leading lights of the drama society, and would enjoy a chance to hog the limelight. She bounded onto the stage with her best cheesy showbiz smile. At least there was no chance of her being as boring as Mr. Brown had been, thought Daisy.
"Good afternoon Sploshington!" she yelled, "are you having a good time?" The crowd responded with a few cheers, a few whoops and a few cries of "yes!", but this wasn't good enough for Alice.
"I can't hear you, I said are you having a good time?"
"Yes! The audience responded with a slightly more coherent, and crucially louder voice this time.
"Excellent! Woo!" She bounced around on the front of the stage while the audience clapped and cheered some more.
"Are you ready for the what you've been waiting for?"
"Yes!"
"Well that's good because..." here her voice dropped to a dramatic stage whisper, "...it's been an awesome fete, everyone's had some fun, we've all raised some cash...but now, now it's time for..." she crescendoed suddenly up to a huge roar, "THE MAIN EVENT!" The audience went absolutely wild, they were frenzied now, practically screaming. Alice was sure enjoying her little turn in the spotlight, thought Daisy, she was enjoying it even more than her recent star turn in Cats. Still, she was good at her job, she worked the crowd like a master.
"It's time for the slime!" she yelled, provoking new, unknown heights of excitement. "Remember that our victim has no idea what we have planned, this will be a complete surprise to her. Shall we open the curtains and reveal what we have in store for her?"
"Yes!"
"Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
"I can't hear you, I said are you ready?"
"YES!" That truly ear-splitting response seemed to at last satiate Alice and she gestured to unseen stagehands to pull open the curtains that had been hiding the rest of the stage through all this time. The crowd was quietened for a minute, gasps and whispered "ewws" were suddenly the order of the day rather than the shouts of a moment before.
Even Daisy, who knew what was coming was slightly shocked. They'd sensibly covered the floor with clear plastic sheeting that reflected the harsh stage lighting and gave everything sitting on it an almost ethereal glow. The pool looked even bigger than she remembered now that it was standing on the stage, filling almost all of the available room. It was filled to within six inches of the brim with the familiar gunge, they'd simply tipped it in with no attempt to mix it together to make it homogenous, so that there were isolated pools of blue, purple and green. It looked better than it had ever looked before now it was all dumped together in a multicolored splodge, the stagelights giving it a shimmer and glisten that emphasised the gunge's horribly slimy qualities.
The dunking machine looked surprisingly professional given it's home grown origins in Mr. Drake's workshop and the short amount of time he'd had to knock it together. A large amount of jet black sheeting had been tacked on to cover most of the inner workings making it look like a tall, brooding dark box, not dissimilar to something Stanley Kubric would feature in one of his films, only with a gap in its middle section for a chair made of black plastic with a bright red 'X' emblazoned on the seat. An ominously large nozzle directly above this contributed to the impression that the chair might not be an entirely safe place to sit down. The controls were situated right next to the tank and were just as Mr. Drake had described, with two big, important looking levers, one red and one yellow. The outer ring of the pool had been decorated with a number of paintings of abstract splodges obviously meant to represent blobs of slime and a gigantic banner had been erected over it bearing the legend: "Gunge Miss Blossom!" It was a brilliant setup, a beautiful sight and the audience loved it.
Daisy was captivated too for a second. Then the memory of twenty minutes earlier came back to her: "I just have to get changed first..." The smart sexy suit was safe in the girls' changing room, her dreams had been shattered and the apparatus in front of her wasn't going to ruin it as she had hoped. The wonderful machinery in front of her was impotent. It was an abuse to use such a fantastic setup to mess up someone in ugly, old clothes, why couldn't anyone else see this? It was positively painful for Daisy to watch, she was on the verge of bursting into tears, she couldn't bare to look any more. She turned her eyes away and stared down at her feet, slumping even further down in her seat, all in all she was in a state of complete desolation.
The crowd had begun to clap rhythmically, the sound pounded into Daisy's skull, her mood decreased in inverse proportion to the anticipation level of the crowd. Alice decided to whip the crowd up further.
"Shall we bring on the victim? Do you want to see her?" she cried.
"YES!" screamed the crowd with one voice as Daisy's head sunk down even more.
It might have seemed like the noise had reached its peak, but what had gone before was nothing to the eruption of sheer cacophony that occurred at that moment. Wild applause rapturous shouts, the stamping of feet, all of these contributed to an absolutely deafening decibel level, it put the noise of a football crowd to shame, it was louder than an aircraft taking off.
Daisy tried to shut this out for a while, but then she became aware of a strange quality to the reaction of the audience. Along with the normal cheers that she'd heard before there were numerous wolfwhistles and catcalls and the male voices seemed to be giving particular appreciation. There seemed to be a certain amount of trouser readjustment going on Daisy noticed as she glanced around the crowd before finally turning her gaze towards the stage.
Her heart stopped.
Joy! Extacy! Happiness unbounded! Daisy was jerked out of her gloomy mood in a nanosecond, her emotions soared higher than an eagle's eyrie. Everything made sense, everything was alright now, everything was perfect again. That was why she was going to get changed, of course! Daisy should never have doubted her for a minute. She felt shock, excitement, relief, she went through all the ratcheting up of mood that Alice had gotten from the crowd over the last fifteen minutes in about five seconds. She leapt to her feet and joined the frenzied cheering, shouting: "Go Miss Blossom! Wooooooo!" The audience stood with her and gave the figure that had stepped on to the stage a standing ovation of epic proportions.
Miss Blossom had had to be led out of the wings by an assistant as she had on a thick blindfold to keep the method of her downfall a secret for a while longer. Her lovely golden tresses had been styled in two long pigtails tied at the ends with red ribbons and a little white flower was tucked behind her ear. A straw boater with a wide, clean red band adorned her head. Her makeup had be done more heavily, more stereotypically than before, but still with great skill and it still brought out her inherent beauty and stayed well below slapper levels. She had deep red lips and smoldering mascara but her most noticeable feature was the pattern of three brown dots drawn on each of her flawless cheeks to make stylised freckles, very, very cute.
It was apparent from just these small details that Miss Blossom had decided to dress up for her gunging in a schoolgirl costume. How fantastic! What a brilliant idea! A teacher, a grown woman dressed as a schoolgirl, what a delicious role reversal, and her face just radiated a delectable vulnerability. She had on a bright, dazzlingly white shirt with a buttoned up collar and a Sploshington school tie pulled up to her neck. Over this she was wearing a tight fitting crimson blazer with a Sploshington school badge on it. She in fact had dressed up as a schoolgirl at the very school she was a teacher at! What wonderful irony! What a brilliant touch!
Daisy had severe doubts about whether this particular uniform would ever get past the teachers' strict gaze. Her quite fabulous legs were clad in fishnet tights and her skirt was rather short, pleated and made of sexy black leather. Lovely! That wasn't even the most outrageous part of her outfit either.
Miss Blossom's boots were not the ones she was wearing earlier, though they were also made of black leather. They had a pointed toe, a thin heel, a tall heel over five inches high, and an inch platform. The zips on the inside went up to the calf. The shafts of the boots had a dull matt finish and were a little loose on the leg, but in a nice, sexy way. The shafts reached up past her elegant calves, up to her knees - and then up past the knee for a good nine inches. Thigh high boots! Miss Blossom was wearing thigh high boots!
The wolfwhistles continued, and Daisy joined in with enthusiasm. She couldn't believe it! Miss Blossom, her fantastically attractive teacher, standing there with her pigtails in her schoolgirl outfit, her leather miniskirt and thigh high boots was the sexiest sight she'd ever seen, and what was even better was that she was about to get totally slimed.
She was taking little nervous steps back and forth as she took in the reaction of the audience, her skirt flapping against her fishneted legs, she was tugging gently at the tops of her incredible boots and had a huge smile on her face. She had been uncertain at first but was swept along with the crowds applause and was by now quite clearly loving being the centre of attention. Alice decided to conduct a little impromptu interview with the victim to prolong her agony.
"Hello Miss Blossom!" she said to her.
"Hello," the teacher looked about a little bewildered as she of course was still wearing the blindfold. "Is that you Alice?"
"Yes, it's me!" Alice was positively relishing the situation of being in charge. "How are you feeling right now Miss Blossom?"
"Hee hee!" she gave out a little giggle, "right now I'm a wee bit nervous!" Nervous she may have been, anxious to know what was going to happen to herself perhaps, but there wasn't even the tiniest smidgen of embarrassment as she stood there dressed like a sexy schoolgirl in a blindfold.
"Well I think you should be afraid, Miss Blossom, you should be very afraid!" crowed the mistress of ceremonies.
"Oh no!"
"Oh yes! Do you want to see what's in store for you?"
"Not really Alice, I'm sure it's going to be absolutely awful!" She stretched out the last word to try to impart some verisimilitude, but it was quite obvious to every single person in the hall that she couldn't wait for what was coming to her, she was dying for the slime.
"Well that's too bad Miss Blossom, because I can now reveal that what's going to happen to you....is THIS!" And with that Alice whipped away the blindfold with one smooth movement.
Miss Blossom's eyes grew until they were the size of saucers and her mouth hung wide open, her entire face a picture of pure astonishment. She drank in the size of the pool, the depth of the gunge, the seat inside the box that she didn't know precisely what was for but couldn't be good news. She had been expecting something good, but this was quite clearly beyond her wildest dreams. Her face suddenly broke its mask of disbelief and she broke out in a huge smile.
"Wooo!" she screamed, and jumped up and down with joy and excitement.
The audience had started their rhythmic hand clap again, they were baying for the gorgeous schoolgirl in front of them to take the slime. They began to chant as well:
"Gunge! Gunge! Gunge!"
Alice lead Miss Blossom to the chair of doom where she slowly and gingerly sat down right on the big red 'X'. She sat bolt upright, her clenched fists resting on her lap her eyes screwed tightly shut, quivering with emotion. Alice pulled the yellow lever forward. There was a rumbling, churning sound and a few bubbles appeared on the hitherto placid surface of the pool. The tension was killing Miss Blossom and it wasn't doing much good for Daisy either.
"Are you ready for the gunge!" yelled Alice at the top of her voice.
"YES!" screamed the crowd as one.
"Let's have a countdown from ten! Ten!"
"Nine! Eight!"
The entire audience had joined in now, marking the seconds till Miss Blossom met her fate.
"Seven! Six!" Daisy just couldn't believe it, from the depths of despair she had been lifted and now the whole scene was absolute perfection.
"Five! Four!"
Daisy couldn't take her eyes off the stage, she gazed fixatedly at the sight of the sexy schoolgirl in the dunktank.
"Three!"
Miss Blossom started shaking even more now and started a high pitched squeal of excitement.
"Two!"
Her squealing intensified.
"One!"
There was a pause, a moment of complete silence. Daisy held her breath. The audience held their breath. Miss Blossom stopped her squealing and held her breath. Alice the executioner pushed the yellow lever and time seemed to go in slow motion.
A great torrent of mainly purple gunge gushed out of the nozzle and knocked her straw hat off. It impacted on her head and fountained off in a great plume. Her lovely blonde hair was being coated in gunk the nice little flower behind her ear had been swept away, the slime was dripping off the ends of her pigtails. The river changed colour to being largely blue now and it poured down over her jacket, soaking in to the thick material. The blazer couldn't protect her white shirt either, it was being stained beyond repair by the gunge and it oozed down her front, some gunge going over her collar and some seeping inside it to slide over her bare skin.
There was over a gallon held in the tank and the torrent kept coming, a load of green gunge pooled in her leather clad lap where it proceeded to run off and seep into her tights. Her boots had escaped most of the damage, at least on the outside, but a good deal of gunge had found its way inside them, ending up squidging around her lovely fishnet clad feet.
Daisy could only imagine was Miss Blossom was going through, what that gunging must have felt like, but she had a clue from the fact that she was screaming throughout, a great primal yell of sheer pleasure. This was almost drowned out by the accompanying roar from the crowd going absolutely wild as they saw the pretty teacher get totally gunged.
As soon as the dunktank stopped the cruel, callous Alice placed both her hands on the red lever and pulled it with great force. The mechanism that Mr. Drake had constructed worked like a charm, a spring at the back powered the plastic seat forward. Miss Blossom was thrust upwards and outwards over the middle of the swimming pool, limbs flailing. She hung in the air for a moment, then she plunged into the gunge in disappeared from sight amongst an immense splash of slime. The audience were on there feet again, they were going absolutely bananas, shouts, screams, whoops, a wall of noise. Daisy was with them, caught up in the wave of emotion, she could think of nothing other than being right here right now witnessing Miss Blossom being reduced to a gooey mess.
It took about thirty seconds, but at last she surfaced with a yell of joy spraying droplets of gunge everywhere. She struggled to her feet, unsteady under the cloying influence of the slime, finally she made it, though the gunk still came up almost to her waist. The gunge flowed off her, blue, purple, green, it fell off her matted hair, dripped of the end of her pigtails and ran out of the sleeves of her blazer, she had been reduced from the pretty, beautiful, sexy schoolgirl of before to a dripping, horrible, unrecognisable slimy mess. And she loved it. She raised her arms up in triumph and the crowd was with her, celebrating her sliming. She jumped up and down in the gunge a few times causing great waves to crash around the pool before flopping back down into the slime with exhaustion to just absorb the reaction of the audience.
Daisy was enraptured. This was better than she could have here dared to hope, she was emotionally drained, felt weak at the knees and had to sit down for a minute. Miss Blossom had somehow managed to locate her hat and she placed it back on her head, still full and screwed up her face in a comedy grimace as even more gunge cascaded over her ruined locks.
Mr. Brown let the adulation continue for a while but then hauled himself up back on to the stage (making very sure to keep well clear of all the mess of course) and prepared to wrap up proceedings. For once in his life he decided to be succinct.
"Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much for attending the Splohington Girls' School Grand Summer Fete!" he shouted over the continuing noise of the crowd, "thank you charity committee! Thank you very much Miss Blossom! Please come again next year! Goodbye!" The audience gave a valedictory cheer and several more standing ovations as Miss Blossom waved to her fans. Finally they grew tired, quietend down and began to file slowly out.
Daisy took the opportunity to walk up to the stage to get a closer look at Miss Blossom. On closer examination her destruction was even more complete than had appeared from afar, there was not a square inch of her that was not covered in either blue or purple or green, the mess moved over her body in a disgusting fashion, she glistened wetly. At the moment she was attempting to do the breaststroke across the gunge pool. She was not having much success, but this didn't seem to be affecting her enjoyment much.
"Hee hee!" she said to Daisy, "no, I think it's just too difficult to swim in this skirt and these boots." She stood up and smiled at her. Daisy was enthralled, but for the first time in about a week she wasn't tongue tied.
"They look very nice though," she said.
"Thank you!" replied Miss Blossom, and took her leather skirt in her hands and performed a cute little curtsey, "but don't you think they're not looking their best at the moment?" Daisy examined her clothes. They were a mess. She looked at her face. It still had a sheen of slime over it, her makeup had been almost entirely washed away, but Daisy had truly never seen her looking more beautiful than she had at that moment.
"I think you're looking just fine," she said. Miss Blossom laughed and splashed the surface of the slime. A single droplet flew out and landed on Daisy's skirt. She stared at it.
"Sorry," said Miss Blossom.
"That's quite alright," she replied before wiping it off. Their eyes met. There was a mutual recognition of kindred spirits. The moment was broken by the rest of the charity committee coming up.
"Well Miss Blossom, how did you like it?" asked Alice.
"I loved it," grinned the teacher, "it was great fun. A very nice job with the setup by the way."
"That's OK, said Fran."
"Where did you get this swimming pool? And who on earth built that dunktank?" she asked.
"The pool's mine!" piped up Kirsty, "I thought it'd do nicely."
"And the dunktank was all Mr. Drake's doing," added Laura.
"Mr. Drake, eh? I'll have to thank him personally later," said Miss Blossom with a wicked smile.
The group was interrupted by Mr. Brown who coughed and said:
"Er, excuse me, Miss Blossom," he said hesitantly, "but there are a few gentlemen of the press here who'd like to meet you if that's not too much trouble..." An enthusiastic young man with a camera round his neck immediately pushed past him and introduced himself.
"Hi, Sam Scoop, Sploshington Gazette, " he spoke quickly, "I'd like to get a few pictures if that's alright with you Miss, er, Miss..."
"Blossom," replied Miss Blossom, "and I'd be delighted.
The blonde teacher needed no further encouragement and the rest of them stood back as she posed countless times for him, standing in the gunge, lying in it, swimming around in it. She smiled for him, she pulled goofy faces, she batted her eyelashes sexily at him. Some of the aspects she struck wouldn't have looked out of place in a page three shoot. Mr. Scoop lapped it up and used three rolls of film before at last being sated.
That wasn't it though, Daisy's mouth hung open in amazement as an entire film crew appeared as if from nowhere, announced that they were from the local news and they'd like to do a brief segment on this fundraising event for the evening report. Miss Blossom of course agreed to this, she was lapping up the attention, and went through her whole posing routine again for them. Then they asked if they could film the dunking again, she looked at them as if to say, I thought you were never going to ask, and climbed out of the pool.
The slime poured off her in waves and spattered onto the floor. It was a good job they'd had the foresight to put the plastic sheeting down, Daisy thought. With her hat back on for the first time in a while the schoolgirl costume was still just about recognisable under the layers of multicolored slime. She squelchily walked over to the seat but half way there she paused and said:
"Just a moment." She sat down in the middle of the floor and lifted her right leg in the air. A wet stream of gunge poured out of her thigh high boot and splashed on to the ground, some of it running down her leg and under her skirt, which must have been an interesting sensation. She then repeated the action with her left boot while Daisy suffered palpitations watching.
Miss Blossom sat back down on the seat and bounced up and down, eager for the return to the slime. It came soon enough and she screamed even louder, if that was possible, as she was unceremoniously dumped back into the pit of slime. The camera crew wanted it done again, of course, and then again from a different angle, and then again and again...
She revelled in the gunge, relishing the feeling every time a new load of slime was dumped on her head, and every time she was propelled back into the gunge. Miss Blossom loved gunge.
So too did Daisy. She had been right, this was the best day of her life.
Epilogue
The day was not over yet, of course. The T.V. people had finally had their fill and Miss Blossom had eventually staggered off to the showers, though without emptying her boots, a detail that Daisy did not fail to notice. She had gone shouting over her shoulder:
"In a state like this I might just go in the shower fully clothed!" which had made Daisy feel weak at the knees.
Now she was alone, everyone was off doing their own cleanup related jobs leaving Daisy the task of getting the gunge out of the pool and back into the three large barrels. She wasn't doing this right now, however. Now she was just standing on the stage, waiting, reflecting. It was peaceful in there for the first time in a long time, and Daisy was thinking back over what had happened.
She walked up to the dunktank. It looked almost familiar to her now, though it had lost none of its dark looming presence. She sat down in the chair and settled back. She just wanted to see what it was like, to imagine what Miss Blossom would have been feeling when she sat on it for the first time, the crowd shouting and screaming and counting down the seconds to her gooey annihilation.
Suddenly Daisy felt very naughty indeed. She realised that with all the commotion caused by the multiple dunkings required by the cameraman she had no idea whether the tank hovering above her head had been left loaded or not. She could reach the controls from the seat. She could play a gungy game of Russian roulette with herself if she wanted. A fifty-fifty chance, either she got off scot free, remained totally clean if the tank was empty. Or, if it was full, she got a sliming. She felt excited, tense. If she did get slimed she had no change of clothes with her. She would have to at the very least run the gauntlet through the still very busy carpark to her car before she could drive home for a shower. People would see her, there was no excuse for her to be messy, she wasn't raising any money.
She was very tense now, certain she was going to do it, and felt very naughty indeed. Daisy looked down at her stripy top, her black skirt, her long socks, her boots.
She pulled the yellow lever.
Nothing happened for a moment. Then Daisy's world went dark. The wet impact dislodged her hat, slammed into her head, sploshed everywhere. This was such a brilliant feeling! Such a different feeling from the barrels, more violent, she was being washed away in a tide of slime. The gunge ran down the back of her neck, down her front, into her lap, over her skirt, over her socks, into her boots. She loved it.
At long last the torrent stopped. She was left breathless. She didn't care about having to go through the carpark now, she didn't even think of it. All she could think about was the cold slime oozing over her and seeping into her clothes. Fantastic.
There were footsteps. Daisy's heart stopped. Some one was coming! Someone was going to find her! She was frozen for a moment, panic overwhelming her brain. There was no way out, what was she going to do? Hide, she must hide at once. She jumped down off the seat and looked around her. The footsteps were getting nearer now. Hurriedly she rang into the wings and hid herself behind a curtain.
The footsteps continued to approach, closer and closer, then stopped by the pool. Daisy dared to peek round the side of the curtain. She could just about make out a shadowy indistinct figure. It went up to the dunktank and paused, looking down at the floor. Oh no! Daisy thought, footprints, she must have left gungey footprints all along the ground. The figure turned and slowly began to approach Daisy's hiding place. She was petrified, rooted to the spot, her discovery was imminent. There was nothing she could do, nowhere she could run. She was quaking in her slightly slimy boots.
The curtain was swept aside.
"Daisy!" an astonished voice said.
"Miss Blossom!" said the equally amazed Daisy. The teacher had cleaned herself up thoroughly and was back wearing her smart trouser suit, a slight dampness of her hair being the only sign that she hadn't been so spotless a few minutes ago.
"You're all messy!" she exclaimed looking at Daisy's appearance, "What on earth has happened to you?" Daisy cringed. She found her voice from somewhere.
"I'm sorry Miss Blossom, er, I, er...had a little bit of an accident..." she said timidly.
"Really? An accident?"
"Yes Miss." She looked down at the ground in shame.
"Oh I don't think so Daisy," said Miss Blossom, "I don't think so at all." The girl cowered in fear. "I think you just slimed yourself on purpose. I've seen the way you've been looking at me these past few days." She stalked back towards the dunktank, her heels clicking authoritatively on the floor. "I've noticed the way you react to the mention of gunge." On that last word she pushed the yellow lever forward with a jerk.
"You like this, don't you? You enjoy being gunged, and seeing others being gunged as well?"
"Yes Miss," replied Daisy in the smallest voice imaginable.
"I bet you were looking forward to seeing me slimed, and I bet you were looking forward to me wearing this suit, weren't you?"
"Yes Miss."
"Well, continued Miss Blossom as she sat down in the chair, "would you like to see me gunged in this suit?"
Daisy's mouth fell open. There was silence. Miss Blossom slowly and coquettishly crossed her long, shapely legs.
"Well?" she pouted. Daisy was mesmerised. She looked at the gorgeous blonde and all her fear melted away. She felt it, felt the connection between herself and Miss Blossom, she just knew that this was right. She walked over to the controls and placed her hand on the yellow lever. She gazed into her eyes. Miss Blossom gazed back, and nodded slightly. Daisy looked at her, the beautiful woman sitting there awaiting the slime, the very image of sexy professionalism in her smart, elegant, pristine black trouser suit.
She pulled the lever. The slime fell on top of Miss Blossom, the gunge splattered all over her, this was incredible. She stayed sitting bolt upright as the ooze covered her, and in contrast to her previous dunkings was absolutely silent. Daisy was extatic, the beautiful suit was being ruined just like in her dreams. No, not like her dreams, this was better, this was real, this was actually happening.
Daisy pulled the red lever without hesitation, and Miss Blossom was plunged into the huge pool of gunge once more. When she rose she was utterly changed, any air of authority any vestige of smartness gone, buried under the mound of disgusting, horrible, fantastic slime.
Miss Blossom reached out her arm and beckoned seductively with a messy finger.
"Do you want to join me?" she breathed.
Daisy nodded, dumbly. She ran forward and vaulted over the side of the pool, embracing the gunge, letting it rule her emotions. Miss Blossom moved her face close to hers. She wiped a slimy strand of hair away from Daisy's face.
"Gunge is lovely." she purred, and leaned in. Their lips met in a passionate, sloppy, messy kiss, their tongues mingling. They embraced tenderly and gradually sank below the surface of the slime.
The rest, dear reader, shall be left to them...
fantastic
by matt2matt2002 » 25 Jun 2007, 11:36
wonderful story
do you do this for a living?
you must look for a publisher
many thanx
matthew
do you do this for a living?
you must look for a publisher
many thanx
matthew
I think sex is better than logic
but I can't prove it.
but I can't prove it.
-
matt2matt2002 - Posts: 980 [ View ]
- Joined: 24 Aug 2006, 09:39
- Location: Scotland, the Splosh centre of the world - not.
by captain sensible » 25 Jun 2007, 15:02
There's some SERIOUS work gone into this, I can tell... thank you! Quite a climax!
And the story was good too...
And the story was good too...
- captain sensible
- Posts: 77 [ View ]
- Joined: 19 Jun 2007, 16:24
- Location: Plymouth, UK
by qdaved » 26 Jun 2007, 19:27
Thanks for everyone who's taken the time to read my story, I'm glad you enjoyed it, I had a lot of fun writting it. Thanks for the plaudits as well. One bit of trivia, the attached picture shows what Miss Blossom's schoolgirl costume was (very loosely) based on.
I have an idea for a sequel, would anyone be interested? And any suggestions for what you'd like to see?
I have an idea for a sequel, would anyone be interested? And any suggestions for what you'd like to see?
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