A Messy Affair Pt. 01

"So we meet tonight?"

"Yes, she's going to an equestrian event, she'll take the horsebox in the morning and will be away until late on Sunday, that'll give us Friday night and Saturday, you can go on Sunday after breakfast which may well be on you!"

"Oh yes, master... thank you!"

So the scene was set. My wife was seriously not into messy play, oh I loved her dearly, but needed more and that was where Jane came in. She had a partner who, like mine, detested messy play. So, while the mice were away! When my wife went off with our groom to take part in her equestrian events which bored the hell out of me, and for which she had banned me as I just got in the way. Jane would visit and we could slop each other.

I was excited for Friday to come. I had a stash of supplies in my garage. My hobby was classic cars. A pastime equally expensive as horses and so we stayed away. It allowed each of us our own time.

I had tried to help Lucy pack the horsebox but she had just huffed and said she had a system. My wife had shooed me away. Well, you couldn't say I didn't try to show an interest. They had been chuckling about me tinkering with my old bangers over the weekend as they pulled the lorry off the yard. I waved and watched them go, biding my time until I knew they had arrived safely and my wife would be busy with her dressage and jumping.

***

Oh, God... The weekend was almost here. I had to prepare myself. My partner hated sploshing. He had been disgusted at even the smallest trickle of chocolate sauce so what the hell he would have thought of my debauched ideas. I dreamed of being destroyed, turned from a pretty human lady to a blob of mess and, in the hands of Rich that was a possibility.

We had met online, chatted and clicked, his situation was like mine, so he had suggested a messy liaison. We had a small, restrained pie fight and I was desperate for more. When he had suggested that his wife would be away, well... Oh goodness... So we had planned. A shopping list which would have made a mass caterer blush, all stashed away. Buckets of frosting, pie cases, flour, syrup and molasses. And, the best bit, it was all for me...

I packed my case, not that I would be wearing much on these warm summer afternoons which would slip into long messy evenings. However, I had a few things prepared. I jumped as my phone pinged.

'The coast is clear!' The text read. I grabbed my car keys and rushed out.

***

I met Jane in the local pub car park, we hugged like excited school children. I had promised a proper messing and poor Jane would be covered for at least two days if all went well. The short drive to the house was filled with excited chatter. As we stepped out of the car I asked if she wanted a drink. Jane just growled and told me to get on with it!

I laughed and took her to the stable block. Oh the irony, it was easiest to mess in one of the loose boxes and then pressure wash it down. I would tell my wife I had been 'useful', she would naturally find fault but the evidence would be long gone in the yard drains. I watched Jane's eyes get large as she saw the mess laid out. It lined tables along the back wall of the stable and there were covered buckets and jugs...

The floor was rubber matting, perfect for horses or sploshers and the walls washable, an equine hygiene factor my wife had insisted on and I wouldn't argue with. Jane popped into the tack room to dress. It was a minute or two before she stepped out in pure white jodhpurs, green wellies and a riding blouse. You see, I did fancy a pretty equestrian, and I was sure that was why my wife no longer wanted me ogling women at horse shows.

I had Jane dress as a groom, her feet in large wellies rather than fine riding boots. There was something about the hardworking, hard done by the groom who I loved. I placed her on the straw bale in the centre of the stable.

"Please, sir... I don't know what I have done wrong?"

I giggled as she did her best, naughty horse rider impression. I gruffly admonished her for not cleaning tack and told her she would be punished...

Reaching for a pie, deep and creamy with a fluffy top and a pastry case, I approached Jane, letting her look at the pretty confectionary. She was shaking with excitement, I could feel the electricity from her body. I stepped back and flung the pie in her face. It splattered, covering the walls and dripping down her chest. The case fell into her lap, her mouth open in a perfect 'O'. Before she could recover I slapped two more pies in her face before smearing a blueberry pie in her hair.

I looked at her as she giggled to herself. There were cameras set up, later we would enjoy the show, for now, a large mirror allowed Jane to see what she looked like as she wiped her eyes.

I had a huge sheet cake, specially made and deep with frosting. I held it before her. She smiled as I slammed her face into the surface, holding her down in the inches of sugary icing. I pulled her up and her face was a mask of white, her shirt coated with mess.

From here, I looked at her boots. There were two sizes too large so perfect for filling. The left with warm custard, she squirmed as her naked toes were engulfed. The second I filled with syrup. It was heavy and sticky and she wiggled her toes causing them to squelch in the rubber boots.

The jodhpurs were splattered but otherwise clean so I stood her up. Taking a jug I pulled out the Lycra riding tights at the rear and started to fill them with molasses. It always amazed me how much you could fill before tiny, glistening bubbles appeared on the outside. Her bum swelled with goo, so naturally, I sat her down hard. To soften the blow I had left a gateau on the bale, but a gallon of treacle had already made the landing pretty interesting. She gasped as the molasses invaded her, engulfed her. It was running down her legs into the boots.

This, of course, was only the start. Next was buckets of syrup. Gallons at a time, coating her clothing, matting her hair to her head. In a few minutes, she was a shiny statue. I stood her up, the syrup hung from her in lazy strings, dribbling onto the floor. She knew what came next. Sticky always had to be followed by flour, a sackful which was in the rafters. I reached up, pulling the release string which allowed the sack to open with a whump! Oh, the look from shiny to ghost-like in a second was astonishing.

Jane coughed and spluttered, clouds of flour settled.

***

Oh please start with pies, I thought as I pulled on the tight jodhpurs. I was not to be disappointed as he flung the first in my face. It caressed me like a lover, clinging to my features. Oh wow! That first mess, that impact, the shock. I wiped my eyes and looked in the mirror, this was me, soon I would not recognise myself.

The pie impact continued. Oh the weight, sliding down my face, tantalising my chest. I looked at the sheet cake. "Oh no you don-" The trick was to have one's mouth open. I loved saying 'Oh no you don't' or 'how dare you', it added to the humiliation and I was ready to sink with a mouthful of frosting like a gag. I spluttered as he pulled me up. Oh the boots, he was doing the boots... Oh, I loved the feeling as warm custard surrounded my toes, then syrup, oh my!

He stood me up, tugging at my waistband. I swore as the molasses hit my skin. Bastard, that had been in the fridge! It ran like liquid rubber, chilling my quim making me shudder. I whole gallon of goo which I could feel seeping, oh so slowly down my legs before he slammed me down, fuck me! That pushed the treacle where it shouldn't be... I slithered in the cake on the bale, enjoying the feeling.

I watched him reach for syrup... Oh, I loved this. The heavy, glasslike liquid which would engulf me, clinging to my body. I listened, you could hear it dripping on the rubber floor - Fuck!

There must be... Whoomp! Yeah, the flour! The clouds cleared and I was white, every inch of my body coated. My clothes were ruined... But, I wouldn't be needing them from now on...

***

I stood back, like an artist admiring a statue. Jane shook like a dog, spraying flour in all directions... "Oi!" I laughed. "That deserves punishment..."

I took the safety shears, mostly used by paramedics; they were a highly effective way for Jane to go from statue to naked body. It was a matter of moments before her clothes were in tatters around her.

I told her to assume the position. She knelt before me, hands behind her back, wrists crossed. I slipped zip lock straps around her wrists before standing her up and attaching a spreader bar between her legs. To give her stability I put a thick belt around her waist which was attached to ropes hanging from the rafters. She was ungagged for now, but I had something new for later. The mere thought tickled me.

I took out a catering sized jug of ketchup. She groaned but knew better than to complain. The red slop seeped slowly down her head, coating her hair and dripping on her naked breasts. I followed this with brown sauce, she swore as the vinegary stench rose from her body. Then there was a bucket of mayo. Who knew such things existed! It unclipped the lid and tipped it. The mass was so thick it didn't pour so I dropped it on her head. Her head was replaced with a bucket which stuck fast.

It took some tugging to break the vacuum and pull the bucket off, at which point the heavy white paste started to flow down her body. I smeared the thick mayo over her chest, swirling over her hardened nipples. Of course, this was not thick enough... I smiled and showed her the buckets of peanut butter. They had been warming in the sun and so were oily and loose. I started with the first, dipping my hand into the brown mass and smoothing it across her chest. I could feel her heart beating hard.

The next bucket I smeared over her feet, running my hands up her legs, getting close to her thighs, but stopping short. Another bucket for her back, I massaged her deeply, which caused Jane to moan in deep pleasure. Soon she was coated with the exception of her crotch and head.

I attended to her face, smoothing the paste over her features and filling her mouth. It cloyed like a gag. Her hair was soon coated, heavy on her shoulders. Soon there was just one bucket left. I grabbed her bum, working peanut butter into her crack, before running my hand across her sex. She tried to grind on me, but I stepped back, just allowing the tips of my fingers to enter her, swirling smooth paste over her clit. She pleaded for more, but I just stepped away.

***

I knew my clothes would soon go. The wanton destruction was amazing. I was dressed and then, just as quick naked. He told me to assume the position. Oh God the humiliation as I sunk to my knees, my hands behind my back ready for binding.

I was soon hanging, my legs spread, the shame caused me to blush, but I was nearly dripping with excitement. Then I saw what was next... Oh no, not these stinking condiments. I'd smell like a chippy for days. As the ketchup hit me I felt myself regress, I was now less than human, I deserved this. The brown sauce next, oh God!

I watched him approach with the mayo. It wouldn't pour, maybe I would escape. Ah, no such luck as my world went dark. Was he going to leave this bucket on my head, as breathing mayonnaise was going to be an issue? No, he lifts it and I am coated in this vile mess. I hate mayo...

However, I love peanut butter and as the warm mass hits my chest I almost cum there and then. My nipples coated, tweaked, oh you bloody tease... Soon I am coated, my legs, my back... Oh God, that is so relaxing, they should offer this at a spa. You lovingly coat my face, I tease a look in the mirror, oh my goodness I look amazing. There is just one place clean... Oh, fuck! Not anymore! Oh God, take me, let me cum you, devious bastard!

Fuck! Don't stop, I was so close... As you know... I tingle all over.

***

I stand and admire my coated beauty. She smiles and sticks her tongue out... Little minx. I take out the harness. It is red PVC with a fierce dildo attached. I see the glint in her eyes as I gently insert it and tighten the straps.

I start in a low throb, I watch as her knees give way a little as the beast awakens. I step towards her and start to lick her nipples. The sweet peanut butter with an even sweeter nub beneath. I swirl my tongue around them, running my hands across her body. She is quivering as I massage her breasts and then go in for a deep kiss, with one arm around her gooey body the other is on the remote and I step up the vibrations. I taste peanut butter and sweet frosting as I feel her body quake on the cusp of the first orgasam.

I held her tightly as her body rocks, hugging her as she comes back to earth, before releasing the belt and her spreader bar. She looks confused as I tell her it is time to wash off.

***

Oh goodness, not the dildo... He bloody knows I'm already on edge that will shove me well and truly over the edge. I'm wet already so it slides in easily and I am tingling with anticipation at what it will do to me. Oh wow! The vibrations just hit the spot and as he leans in and sucks at my tender nipples. Then the kiss, I see stars as the orgasm hits me, my knees buckling as I collapse in his willing arms.

He leaves me only a moment when he tells me it's time to clean up. What? No! He releases my spreader bar and we are out onto the yard. We cross to the fields, at the edge there is the pond. Oh Shit! No, not this... Not now. The stinking water is mostly mud and run-off from the stables. He walks me down the small jetty which juts over the water, he had told his wife it was for fishing but there are no fish in this cesspit. He stands me looking towards him at the very edge of the jetty. "Any last words?"

"Fuck you..." I snap as he pushes me. I land on my back in the mud. My hands still tied, I struggle in the fetid mud. He leaps down beside me, his boots sinking in the mire, dragging me up. I am covered in this stinking mess, humiliated, broken. Turned on as hell!

***

I drag her from the muddy water. She was cursing me, but I saw in her eyes how much she wanted the black mire. She laughs, so I drag her to the jetty again, this time facing the mud. She swears as I push her face-first into the mess again. Dragging her free she is now a muddy, stinking blob.

She had admitted to me how she wanted to try mud, how she had only ever paddled in shallow sloppy clay. Well, she has had the mud experience now. I drag her back to the stable, sitting her down to allow her to catch her breath. I watch her on a chair, she gasps as I start up the vibrator again. She slithers and squirms in the plastic garden chair as the vibrations engulf her. I watch as her back arches about to explode and I switch it off.

If looks could kill. I laugh... No, there is more to do. I take the hose and spray her with icy water. The screams and swearing are music to my ears.

***

Oh god, the mud was nasty. So deliciously nasty. What is he doing to me, what has he made me become? I'm so debauched, so base. I wanted to roll in the stinking mud. However, I also wanted to rub his smug face in it. I was biding my time, as there was the promise of revenge and it would be so sweet.

He sits me down and, oh goodness those sweet vibrations again. I slither on the brink and then he stops. Bastard! The jet of cold water is a shock. I tell him exactly what I think of him and what I will do when I get free...

***

She is cleaner, yet not clean. But now comes perfection. I show her the vat, an old trough filled to the brim with 'tar'. It's a mix of molasses, poster paint, PVA glue and flour. My extra, secret ingredient, five buckets of marmite, which make it less liquid and yielding. It's fiendishly sticky, gooey and heavy and she will be going in there.

The addition of glue means that, if I don't allow her to wash it off within an hour or so, it will set on her skin. Of course, you can peel it off, I'm not a monster. But it adds to the jeopardy. I see her staring at the trough. It's black surface taunting her. She knows there are feathers also, she will soon be given the ultimate humiliation.

The trough is big, large enough for her to almost fit in completely, and deep enough for her to sink in the heavy tar. She is hopping from foot to foot, she so wants this. I stand her beside the trough, tell her to look deeply into the blackness. As she does I push her face in. She comes up spluttering and swearing, a taste of what's to come.

***

Oh God, the tar bath. He's told me about this, I've dreamed of this but now, in real life... It will swallow me, engulf me. I will be trapped in its depths. I so want to be its slave.

And then, of course, feathers. The humiliation of the scratchy white feathers over my body. I cannot wait as he tells me to look at it. I'm caught off guard when he pushes me in. Shit! I come up gasping for breath. What is that? Fuck, Marmite... Bastard, I hate Marmite... Oh God, this is going to be so good.

***

I sit here on the edge of the trough, she looks back, glancing at the blackness which will take her. I smile and push her back slowly, supporting her as her back first crests the tar. She sinks, ever so slowly, inch by inch her body is absorbed. Her back, then her body, her breasts. She is holding her head up but her legs and sex are soon sunk. She places her head down and it sinks. It takes over a minute for her face to disappear beneath the blackness. There is a long pause before she comes out. Her featureless face, her shiny body. I wipe her eyes, seeing the whiteness of her huge smile. Standing her up I pull the rope which releases the feathers. There is a cloud and soon she is just a bird before me.

I lead her back, this time face first so she can see the tar take her. It coats the feathers, and she needs to be dragged up and out of its clutches as the second coat of feathers is applied.

I help her walk out of the stable. I have paid a good few quid for the next treat. I stand Jane on a rotating platform, borrowed from a local farmer. He would use it to wrap silage bales, but today I am wrapping a tarred and feathered sub. I stick the black clinging, plastic wrap to her body and hit start. She spins slowly, the wrap surrounding her, stopping at neck height and repeating, sinking down as she turns.

Five minutes later there is nothing but her tarred head and a black mummy before me. I ease her onto a trolley and push her into the stable where I lie her down on the bales before setting the vibrator on a low buzz. The package twitches, but is firmly held as she has the first of many orgasms.

***

Oh the tar... Oh how it takes me, I sink, lost in the depths. Then the feathers, they itch, setting my nerves alight. I catch sight of myself in the mirror. Oh my goodness, is that me?

More tar, this time I sink into it face first, sinking, writhing before a second coat of humiliation. He leads me towards a machine? What is this? All too soon I'm dizzy, wrapped tightly.

The vibrations intensify in my prison. Oh, God! I'm going to cum!

***

I woke, still tightly bound, I must have passed out. What is the time? I cannot move. Then I see it, my eyes widen, the second mummy. Wrapped as tightly as me... But, if he is there? What the fuck?

"Oh... Are we awake?" A woman's voice, I look and see jodhpurs, boots, trouble. "You clearly don't know me, but I'm his wife..."

... To be continued ...