Bon Apetit

"And cut! Ok guys, hose her off now for Chrissake!"

I'm sitting naked in the bathtub, I can't stop sobbing and shaking. My hair is stuck to my face. My lips are sticky from the sugar and drool. I'm covered in a mess of chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and I can taste vomit in my mouth.

Here's what happened.

I don't like food play; I mean I really hate it.

It had gotten to the point that I had walked out of my favourite Fetish event because a gorgeous girl was covered in whipped cream and partiers were was licking it off her naked body. I watched her lying there and envisioned myself in her place. The mental visualization pushed me right out the door and the event. Of course, the night they did naked sushi I just skipped it altogether... Silly, I know!

I had it in my head to get over it though and really there's only one way to do just that.

An American porn crew was in town and their specialty was strange, kind of artsy and comedic food solo shoots. Sign me up, I said!

I let the director know my hang-ups over the food thing; he thought it would make for a fantastic shoot. I made him promise not to hold back anything and go for the full experience even if I might appear to be a complete wreck on set. He agreed of course. Easy as pie.

The set was a beautiful suite inside a posh downtown hotel. Everything looked like a regular shoot: some suitcases full of toys, bright lights, a camera and tripod. With one major difference: a huge heavy-duty tarp in the sitting area of the room, taped down to the carpet. On the tarp there were bottles of syrup, fruits, and oh so many whipped cream cans.

The guys were a really fun, nice bunch, you could tell they liked what they did and had an appreciation for the unique needs of their niche audience. The director gave me the basic idea: do as many filthy things as possible with the food. I was to end up looking like some disturbing adult sundae. This was mostly a solo shoot but the guys would step in at times to enhance the scene or help me reach the desired level of filthiness.

Scene 1- Go Bananas

I changed into my wardrobe for the shoot and sat on the tarp. The first scene was simple enough, chew the bananas and come up with dirty stuff to say. Allow me to paint you a word picture here. I want you to imagine a French girl on her knees, wearing pigtails and frilly underthings. Now picture her showing pieces of banana in her mouth, chewing with her mouth wide open and saying things like: "I bet you wished you banana was in my mouth" or "I'd rather gag on your banana Baby". Pretty irresistible, I know.

My personal favourite was when I choked on some banana, looked up at the camera with some tears in my eyes and said "Can't wait until you shove your cock in my banana hole".

Scene 2- Have your cake and eat it too

This scene was a change of pace. A little bit more traditional, I was to lie on my back and get myself off with the toys. Oh and one more little thing Sweetheart, we're just gonna go ahead, cover you in whipped cream and lick it off.

Were you guys just screaming inside your skulls and picturing the Fetish party incident all over again too? Or was that just me?

So I'm on the tarp and I'm naked. There are 3 men wearing black clothes and black balaclavas surrounding me. I begin my little show, using a vibrator and a dildo on myself. Once I get started, they start applying the whipped cream. At first just a little dollop here and there, then a thin line and finally just a great big heap of it. I can't take it. The whipped cream itself isn't the issue here, 3 men playing Hungry Hungry Hippoes off of my body is however.

I can keep up my oohs and aahs just fine when they are just licking the cream, but when their tongues get down to my flesh and I can feel them it triggers cringing and all kinds of non-pornographic facial expressions. Sure enough..."Cut!"

Change of plans, apparently my complete lack of a food fetish can be turned into something of a torture scene. After a quick rinse and dry, I am back on the tarp. This time there are restraints involved, some biting and all kinds of struggling on my part. Much better.

Scene 3- This is how the cookie crumbles

This was supposed to be a sexy self-inflicted syrup shower and sticky orgasm fest. After very little deliberating, we all agree that there's no way I can produce something believable for an audience that truly adores food play. Humiliation it is!

My 3 friends are going to help again... I've told them to push it a little farther this time. If they want something good, they will need to turn this into a bona fide play scene. This isn't their style at all but one of them is into S&M, he'll take the lead. We agree on a safeword, and no it wasn't BANANA!

Let's fast forward past the point where they drag me into the bathtub by my hair, smear syrup all over my white t-shirt and panties and wash it off of me with cold water while calling me a whore, I actually enjoyed that part.

"You think you're fucking done? You're not done until we say you are!" My friend is really embracing his inner kinkster, the whipped cream pie he pressed onto my face at that moment was a nice addition. This time they don't let me wash off.

He covers his fingers in syrup. "Lick them clean" he says as his colleagues step into the tub and hold my arms on each side. I shake my head. This is actually the absolute worst for me: having someone forcing me to eat something during play. This is so bad I can't even eat around a dominant partner if we have just played or recently done some power exchange stuff. Of course, I'm taking too long to please. He snarls.

With my arms restrained, he pinches my jaw opened and forces his fingers into my mouth. I can taste the sweetness of the syrup, it's gross.

"I said lick them clean girl!"

My headshake doesn't stop him. He pushes them further into my mouth until I gag.

"Suit yourself, I'm just gonna keep doing this until you're sucking on them so hard I hear slurping!"

I gag, I struggle and then I gag some more. Right when I think I'm going to throw up, he pulls out his fingers, puts more syrup on them and forces them right back in. This cycle continues for a while, until my jaw and my arms are sore and its feel like my heart is beating in my throat.

He stops, waves at the guys to let go of me. I slide onto my knees in front of him, dry heaving in the bathtub until I throw up in my mouth a little.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to give you one more chance here. Lick the syrup off my fingers or you're going to throw up all over yourself."

He tilts my chin up toward him. One of the guys puts some syrup on his fingers and he holds them right in front of my mouth.

"You don't want me to stop being nice, do you?"

I grab his wrist with both hands and said,

"No Sir, I don't."

I meant it, I was exhausted, nauseous and broken.

"Good girl, now do it!"

With my hands clasping his wrist I forced his fingers in my mouth, and I licked them hard. I slurped and I swallowed everything until I heard the director's scream.

Once we cleaned up, we shared a great big group hug and I felt like the crew needed it just as much as I did. We got comfortable in our hotel bathrobes and chatted. They all wanted to know: did I change my mind about the food thing?

Despite this being such a fantastic experience, it didn't change a thing. I still can't mix food and play. I still can't eat around people I partake in power exchange with. And I sure as hell won't be signing up to be the whipped cream girl at a party anytime soon.