Sameena Does Dares Pt. 05

'Oh, come on,' Lucy drawled. 'You can't just copy me.'

'Wouldn't it be you copying me?' Sameena replied, absently flicking some goop from her brow. 'Anyway, I never said you'd be doing the same thing, did I? I said guess.'

'Alright. I guess you're going to make me eat my lunch without cutlery.'

'Wrong. Ha!'

'Really? You're not just scrabbling to come up with something else because I caught you trying to copy my homework?'

'Don't be ridiculous,' Sam said unconvincingly.

'Alright. If you had a plan along, what is it?'

'Well,' Sam said, faltering. 'It's similar.'

'Uh-huh. Really similar?'

Sam shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant fashion. 'I wouldn't call it that similar.'

'Well, come on, what is it?'

'So, basically, you're going to eat that dhal without using your hands -- but!' she blurted out the but, cutting across Lucy's self-satisfied attempts to cut across her. 'But, you also have to drink the lassi without your hands, too.'

'I knew -- uh, wait, what?' Lucy stopped mid-sentence, looking around the table. 'I forgot about that. No big deal, it's got a straw.'

'Had a straw,' Sam replied, pulling the lid and straw out of the plastic cup that held the thick yellow drink. 'I'm sure you can manage without it, big girl like you. I've heard you're well-practised at sucking things.'

'Oh, Sam, honey, that's a stretch.' Both of them fell into giggling at the lameness of Sameena's attempted joke.

'Alright, sure,' Sam admitted. 'Not my best work. But can we make a start? I want to see how you're going to make this work. I want every drop of lassi accounted for.'

Lucy shuffled in her seat, trying vainly to find an approach that might reduce the amount of sloppy coverage her face was about to receive. 'Don't rush me,' she said.

'Oh, you want to savour the moment? Really enjoy getting your face slathered in food?'

'Just like you.'

'I'm a walking inspiration. Now hurry up before I give you a helping hand just like you gave me.'

'Alright, alright. Geez. Here goes nothing.' With that, Lucy made her first attempt at slurping up the dhal between pursed lips. It was noisy but it worked -- to an extent. It was extremely slow going. After several loud mouthfuls, barely a dent had been made in the dhal.

'Pathetic,' Sam said. 'I guess you really do want a helping hand.'

'No! Don't you--' Lucy was cut off, forced face-down into the food just as she had done to Sam just moments ago. Just like that, Sam pushed her face around the place, spilling dhal over the sides, but, more importantly, covering Lucy's face in a gloopy layer of dhal.

'Now,' said Sam a moment later, finally letting go. 'I think you need a drink to wash it down, don't you?'

It took Lucy a moment to recover enough sense to reply. Still processing the damage to her makeup, her dignity and her meal, she just about managed a nod of reluctant agreement. 'I guess.'

'Great. Here you go.' Sam pushed the cup towards Lucy's face, slightly harder than necessary, so that it banged against the plate and momentum sent a few droplets in the direction of Lucy's face. Instinctively, Lucy reached her hands toward the cup in order to steady and then lift it.

'Ah-ah,' Sam tutted. 'No hands, remember.' Before Lucy could protest, Sam grabbed a wrist in each of her hands and then pinned them gently but firmly behind Lucy's back.

'Sam, gosh, I never had you down as this sort of woman,' Lucy said, having clearly regained enough of her wherewithal to crack jokes again.

'Drink!' Sam said, struggling to maintain an air of authority while fighting the urge to laugh.

'Yes, mistress,' Lucy joked, gripping the rim of the cup of lassi between her teeth. Sam said nothing as Lucy lifted the cup with extreme care, knowing that the further it got from the table, the further its contents would splatter if dropped. Getting the lassi into her mouth without also getting it all over her face, neck and presumably cleavage was another matter, however. She paused for a moment with the cup swinging precariously from her gritted teeth, subconsciously judging the physics of the situation. It was a brief moment, because she knew Sam would harangue her again if she took too long. Calculations and guesswork complete, she threw her neck back as if about to down a shot.

The result was disastrous. Approximately a third of the cup's contents splattered up over her nose, causing her to shut her eyes reflexively. With her face still upturned, lassi formed little yellow pools in the hollows around her eyes. She had managed to get a mouthful and gulp it down, but that was the least of her concerns. What to do next, considering the yoghurt-drink currently covering her face, was foremost in her mind.

'That's quite a predicament,' Sam said, deliberately unhelpful.

'Uh-huh,' was all Lucy could put together by way of a response, not helped by the fact that she daren't open her mouth to speak properly. There was no way out of the situation that didn't involve turning her face to a more normal angle, causing the lassi to streak down her face. She braced herself then jolted her face forward, just as suddenly as she had jolted it backwards in the first place. As predicted, yellow slime dribbled down her cheeks, off her chin, and pitter-pattered onto the table, narrowly missing her cleavage. 'Oh my god,' she groaned at last, the lassi soon running out. Unfortunately for Lucy, this meant that it now left her chin from further back, causing the remaining dregs to plop into her milkshake-soaked bra.

'Still quite a bit left,' Sam said, deadpan. 'Maybe I can help you out. Don't want to be here all day.'

Lucy pondered the offer, knuckling the leftovers out of her eyes. 'And you promise it will be the helpful kind of help?'

'Is there any other kind?'

'I'm not even going to dignify that with a response.'

'I promise nothing,' Sam answered with a roguish grin. 'Want my help or not?'

'Time for some famous last words -- how could it make things any worse?'

Taking that as a yes, Sameena put the palm of her hand on the bottom of Lucy's cup. Lucy took the hint and slowly, much slower than before, started to tilt her head back. Sam seemed to be biding her time, though Lucy did her best not to be lulled into a false sense of security. It wasn't until she felt the yoghurt drink against her lips that Sam finally performed her inevitable betrayal, instantly moving the cup perpendicular to her friend's face. Since Lucy's face was already tilted about 45 degrees, gravity dictated that the contents of the cup had nowhere to go but down. Down to her her mouth and chin. Down, in more copious quantities than before, into her cleavage.

'I knew it!' she proclaimed shrilly, straightening up while trying to somehow back away from her own face. Still seated, she scraped her chair noisily backwards, keeping her head forwards so that what was left of the lassi would drip onto the floor rather than into her clothing. The damage was done, though. Her bra, already saturated and leaking an unusual cocktail of dairy, was overflowing, releasing cool slime down her torso. Flicking her fingers out instinctively achieved nothing.

'Oh my. Aren't we a state?' Sam said.

'You can say that again,' Lucy answered ruefully. In truth, she was struggling to concentrate on the conversation. Chilled yoghurt -- and milkshake that was now roughly body temperature -- oozing down one's stomach, steadily saturating one's dress, had a way of shifting one's focus.

'Well, I don't know if that's helped to wash your food down,' Sam said. 'But it's certainly washed some of it off.'

'Somehow I'd managed to forget about lunch. Thanks for the reminder.'

'I told you I'd help. But come on. I had to eat more than that. You should too. And besides, you'll need the energy.'

'Ugh. Fine.' Lucy's petulance was only partly manufactured for effect. She really did feel somewhat put upon at the prospect of having her face used like a dishcloth again. Still, it was a bit late for trying to back out now. She gingerly lowered her face towards the dhal again, expecting to feel a hand on her head or in her hair again at any moment. It didn't come, though, even as her nose hit the surface of the ruined slop and then the bottom of the plate less than a second later. Even as she started meagrely slurping through pursed lips, nothing from Sameena.

Then, as she was starting to think Sam was just letting her degrade herself alone, she felt the telltale weight on the back of her head. Before she could react -- not that she was in a position to do much, anyway -- Sam was chuckling to herself, and shoving Lucy's face around the plate again. Helpless, Lucy slumped forward in her seat and let it happen. There really was little she could do to fight it, even if she wanted to, so she leaned into the submissive feeling, allowing herself to be used -- literally.

Sameena must have have picked up on the change in body language, because when she decided she had mopped enough, she abruptly let go of Lucy's hair so that she fell into the slop one last time. She followed this up by whispering tauntingly in Lucy's ear: 'good girl.' It sent a tingle up Lucy's spine, one that made everything that had just happened well worth the hassle.

'Sam,' she mumbled, trailing off as she turned to look over her shoulder, all doe-eyed and coated in dhal.

'Yes, Lucy?' Sam replied with an a knowing smirk.

'I, um. Er, never mind. Shall we move on?'

'I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind a costume change.'

'I've heard worse ideas,' Lucy replied, getting to her feet as carefully as she could in an effort to prevent a variety of foodstuffs from shifting too much. 'I'm not sure my clothes can really hold onto much more, to be honest.'

'Much as I'd love to put that theory to the test, I think it might be fun to start over, don't you?'

'Fun. Right. Yeah.'