The Gunge Angel Ch. 02

Another pair of hands caressed me from behind and I moaned again, warmly. They started to make love to me, one behind, the other in front, kissing me and caressing my bare torso. Then they wiped the gunge out of my eyes and stood up.

They came around in front of me and looked down at me - two guys in their thirties, one slightly pudgy, the other strong-looking, both of them handsome. The fatter one was smiling at me mischievously.

"Oooh, Alex, you look good enough to eat," he said. "Hi, I'm James."

"I'm Greg," said the other one.

"Hi," I said somewhat breathlessly.

"I can't wait," said James, grinning, and he reached down and slid his briefs down over his hips and stepped out of them. Naked, he walked over to a table and picked up a pie, then he walked towards me. I watched him approach, knowing what was about to happen.

He pushed the pie delicately but forcefully into my face, and then I felt the tip of his cock pushing through the crust and gunge into my mouth. I sucked him eagerly and he grasped my head, pulling my face into his belly, pushing the gunge into my eyes and nose. I swallowed and almost gagged, but kept sucking.

I felt heavy, cool gunge flowing over the top of my head and over my forehead, and moaned again as Greg gunged me while I was sucking on James" cock. Then I felt Greg behind me, running his hands over my chest as the thick, heavy gunge hung over my head and slowly slid over my chest. His hands went down to the waist of my jeans and he opened them, running his hands inside my briefs, touching my stiff cock.

James made me suck him off for several more minutes before at last pulling out of me. I gasped for breath, my face cloaked in thick gunge - it smelled like molasses or treacle. Then I felt Greg pulling my jeans down and I lifted my knees to let them off me. They threw my sodden jeans aside, and then I was left alone for a moment.

I rubbed the gunge out of my eyes and saw that they were both naked, but were now putting their briefs back on.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No," said James, smiling, and he walked over to me carrying two pies, which he proceeded to use to sandwich my head. I gasped and shuddered, and then they pulled me to my feet and lifted my hands over my head. They placed a hook in my hands and put soft but strong cuffs around my wrists, so that I was held up, and then they proceeded to pie my body repeatedly, making sure my face was always covered but also covering every last inch of me.

I hung there, whimpering slightly as they pied me, telling me how filthy I was and what a messy little slut I was to let them do this to me, and then when I felt hot from the thick coating of pie gunge on my body, I felt fingers take the waistband of my briefs, and finally they were easing them off me, stripping me nude for the supreme humiliation.

At last, my briefs were taken off my feet and I was their naked, dangling messy slut, and sure enough they proceeded to pour icy cold fluid over my cock and ass - I found it later that it was partially thawed ice cream - making me squeal with the cold and also fiercely arousing me.

Then I felt the shock of being hit by buckets of cold water, and I gasped as over the course of half a dozen buckets, I was washed more or less clean until I was still naked as a jaybird but also soaking wet and shivering.

Then they put their arms around me and went back to kissing and caressing me, until I was gradually warmed up, wet and naked but no longer freezing, and moaning, dying for them to do something else to me.

They let me down and made me go on my hands and knees, whereupon they pied my face and arse simultaneously. Then they poured another couple of buckets of gunge over me as I gasped and whimpered in faint protest, before I felt one of them entering my mouth and the other mounting my bare buttocks.

I don't know to this day which one of them sodomised me, whether it was James or Greg - I could no longer see and I was so humiliated and aroused that it no longer seemed to matter. I just remember shaking and moaning as I was fucked in my mouth and ass, and then before anyone had a chance to cum, I was laid on my back in the gunge and I felt a pie descend on my face before a pair of thighs enveloped my head and a naked arse descended onto my face.

Even as one of them was sitting on my face and I was tonguing his ass, I felt my hips and legs being lifted and the other one was pushing into my anus. I squirmed and moaned beneath them, their abject victim, as they fucked me into a blissed-out, messy stupor. I had never been so abjectly reduced to a helpless, whimpering piece of meat. I just remember feeling myself about to cum and a mouth descending over my cock and milking me as I made muffled squeals of ecstasy. At the same time, a cock in my mouth was spurting into me and the one up my arse was also jerking fluid deep inside me.

Then there was a long time when I was just lying on my back, helpless and sated as they piled more and more gunge on top of me, before I was finally hauled to my feet and tenderly washed, dried and dressed.

I won't go into great detail into what happened later. They invited me to eat with them and I did so, and later on that night the wine flowed and James and Greg sweet-talked me into undressing. I was lying on the sofa, naked, dizzy with desire as they kissed and caressed me, but after I'd sucked them each off and they had rolled me onto my belly and were lubing me up in preparation for buggering me, I only just had enough presence of mind to breathlessly ask them, if they didn't mind, I thought I'd better not, because I had to be going.

They were disappointed but understanding. I dressed hastily, gathered my stuff and departed, rather moist and sticky, into the night, after fond hugs from the two of them. I realised that if I hadn't left I could easily have spent the rest of the night and the following day there. I was all too susceptible to their persuasion and I thought that if I hadn't made my excuses and got out, my mouth and asshole would have become their property. I have too much to do to lie about submitting to two charming gay men who wanted nothing more than to fuck me senseless over and over again

CLIENT #8: MARGO

Hello Alex,

I'm Margo and it's a bit embarrassing because I would never have booked you myself, but it's my birthday and my friends are making me do it as a present! I've always been a bit curious about getting messy and we were looking at websites and we all agreed that your service looks great. At least, I would like to give it a try. I hope you agree. I'll confirm this tomorrow (when I'm a bit less drunk!)

Q.: What kind of wam do you like?

I've never got messy myself but I have to admit that I like looking at other people doing it. I think I'd like to try pies and gunge and shaving foam.

Q.: What kind of thing do you think you'd like to do in the session?

If it's okay I don't think I want to get messy myself - I'd like you to be my slave! I quite fancy messing you up and having my wicked way with you!

Q.: How did you hear about gungeangel.com?

A friend told me about it - she's a friend of someone who'd heard about it.

When Margo answered her door, I was surprised and pleased to find that she was an extremely attractive brunette in her late twenties. She had very long hair that fell down her back almost to her waist, and a slim, firm figure. She was wearing a t-shirt, a pair of tight jeans and cowboy boots. She had narrow dark eyes and a warm smile.

"Hello?" she said tentatively.

"I'm Alex," I said. Margo stared at me for a moment, then covered her mouth and laughed and stood aside to let me in.

"Of course," she said. 'sorry. Hi."

She led me into the kitchen, where she made us coffee. It was a grey, damp Sunday afternoon. Margo had a warm, friendly presence and I felt strangely at ease with her - I couldn't quite figure out why that was, but it was as if we'd known each other for years.

'so," she said, twinkling slightly and crossing her legs, "what exactly do I get for the money?"

"Well," I said, "your friends have paid for the Deluxe service. So that means you get to do pretty much whatever you like, within the terms and conditions. You decide what can and can't go on."

"So I can pie you?" she said.

"Yes," I said. I always found the initial business discussion very helpful. It reassured clients that I was so upfront about what could happen, but it also had an extra edge; here I was, being calm and businesslike, but they knew that later on they had permission to strip me of my dignity and humiliate me in the most dramatic way. "You can pie me, gunge me, dunk my head in a bucket of cake batter."

"Clothes?" she said.

"You don't have to take yours off unless you want to," I said. "It's understood that you have permission to remove mine, or tell me to remove them."

"Completely remove them?" said Margo.

"Yes," I said.

"So I could strip you naked?" she said, cocking an eyebrow and smiling. I felt a pressure in my jeans and blushed slightly.

"You can strip me naked," I said, nodding.

"What else can I do?" she said.

"You have access to my body," I said, "under the terms and conditions agreed."

"Meaning what exactly?" she said.

"Meaning you can touch me wherever you like," I said, "and if you want to penetrate me orally or anally, or stimulate my penis, or have me penetrate you, that's acceptable, as long as precautions are observed regarding safe sex, and if you're going to penetrate me, it has to be with one of the sex toys provided, or with one agreed between us beforehand."

"Okay," she said, smiling. 'so no sneaky whipping out of unauthorised dildos, then."

"No," I said, smiling back, and we both laughed.

"Okay," she said again. "I'm looking forward to this."

"So am I," I admitted. "But do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"Sure," she said.

"I hope you don't think I'm being too forward," I said, "but I mean, you're a very attractive woman. I'm sure you could get any guy to do this with you, if you asked him to."

"Thanks," Margo said, with a grin, "but you'd be surprised. I tend to attract guys who want to... how can I put this? I don't tend to attract submissive guys. Most of the guys I date are pretty alpha-male. They're macho, you know? I've talked to the occasional guy about this kind of thing but only as something else that other people are interested in, and they always find it weird. I think I just wanted to see what it would be like to be with a guy who likes it."

"You've never wanted to be messed up yourself?" I said, smiling.

"Mmmm... not exactly," she said. "Maybe some day. What I really want is to understand it, first. I want to hear what it's like to have it done to you. I'm gonna be asking you how it feels, and I'd like you to be totally honest with me. Is that okay?"

"Of course," I said. 'there's just one more question."

"Go ahead."

"There are two basic approaches you can take," I said. 'there's the sensual approach, when you're doing it to pleasure the other partner."

"Uh-huh," said Margo, nodding.

"And then there's the humiliation approach," I said, "when you're doing it because you get off on seeing your partner humiliated. Consensually, obviously."

"Yeah," said Margo, laughing and blushing, "that's the one I want to try."

"Okay," I said, blushing myself and smiling. "then the only thing that remains is to ask how you want to start?"

"Let me think about that," she said. "Do you need to set up your stuff?"

"Yes," I said. "Take all the time you need."

I went off to the bathroom and changed into my work clothes: the clean white t-shirt, dark jeans and bare feet that I wore as the most neutral possible working gear. I set up the video camera in the living room, then I set about mixing my cake batter and assembling my pies and gunge.

Forty-five minutes later, we were ready and I re-entered the living room, which was already spread with plastic sheeting. Margo came in, carrying a plain bentwood chair.

"Okay," she said. "I'd like you to sit on this, wearing just your briefs?"

"Okay," I said, smiling at her to reassure her. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, slipped out of my jeans and sat on the chair in just my white briefs. Margo tied my wrists behind me using the towelling belt from a bathrobe. She was still in her t-shirt, jeans and cowboy boots and she'd tied her hair back into a long ponytail. I reflected that she was without doubt the sexiest woman who'd ever wanted to mess me up, and the thought made my tight briefs bulge slightly.

"Okay, Alex," she said, smiling, 'this is it." She walked over to the table and picked up a pie. She glanced down at my crotch.

"You're turned on," she said.

"Yes," I said, blushing.

"Even though this is being videoed?"

"For your personal use," I said.

"Of course," she said. "There's no way that this would ever get back to anyone who knows you, or anything."

"I take a lot of trouble to make sure that doesn't happen," I said.

"Of course you do," said Margo, smiling sweetly. She glanced at the camera, and then back to me.

"I've just realised something," she said. "We've met before."

My blood went cold and the hairs on my skin stood up. I felt myself going pale. But I looked up at Margo's face, and suddenly I realised that it was true.

"P1," she said. "Hmm, twenty... twenty-five years ago? I was Margo Cannon back then."

"Yes," I said, dry-mouthed, and I realised with mounting horror that this humiliation was going to have an edge beyond the usual. To be messed up by an attractive woman was one thing, but one who'd known me for years...

"You were very cute back then," she said. "I always liked you. I remember I threw up in the playground one day and I was so humiliated."

"We don't have to do this," I said desperately, uneasy at being in just my tight briefs with this young woman who I'd known as a child, sat next to, borrowed pencils from.

"Oh, I'm definitely doing it now," said Margo, and she pushed the pie into my face.

I moaned, deeply, as I felt the pie envelop my face. How many pies had I taken in my time? Had they ever been as profoundly humiliating as this?

"That looks lovely," she said. "Tell me, Alex, when did you realise that you liked being messed up?"

"Oh god," I muttered, shaking my head slightly to dislodge the pie hanging in my face. "Years ago."

"Really? As far back as when you were in P1, maybe?"

"Yes," I admitted. The pie fell off my face and I blinked up at Margo, who was standing before me, sexy and immaculate in her t-shirt and jeans and cowboy boots.

"So even then," she murmured, "you were getting excited by the thought of being naked and covered in goo?"

"Yes, I was," I said quietly.

Margo went over to the table, got another pie and slapped it into my face, rubbing it well in. I gasped and moaned.

"I suppose you must have hidden it from everyone," she said. "Your family. Your friends. Must be tricky to do that in secret. Time-consuming, too, I would imagine."

I nodded, feeling the pie hanging heavy over my face. It fell off and splattered into my lap.

"But then you must have met other people who liked it, right?" said Margo conversationally. "The internet is great for that. That's how I hooked up with you again, isn't it, Alex?"

I nodded again. Margo took my head and tilted it upwards. I blinked but couldn't really see. Cold, sweet-smelling gunge poured in a thick flow over my forehead, eyes and nose and mouth and all over my head. I gasped as it slid over my bare stomach and pooled in my lap.

"How does that feel?" she asked.

"Oh god," I gasped. 'this is bad. I feel so..."

"Messy?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

"Are you humiliated yet?"

I gasped again and squirmed. Then I felt much thicker, stickier gunge pouring over my forehead - it was the treacle I'd emptied into a gallon jug. I shivered and squirmed and gasped with shame as it poured over my head and hung in long gobs from my face, filling my eye sockets and sticking my eyes shut.

"Oh my," said Margo. "You look absolutely filthy, Alex. I would be so ashamed right now to know that someone who knew me from before was doing this to me."

"Oh Jesus," I moaned, shivering with shame and cold.

"Stand up," Margo said, and she guided me to my feet. I stood, blinded and filthy, my body dripping gunge and treacle down to the floor, gobs of pie goop spattering onto my bare feet.

"But this isn't really humiliating enough," said Margo. "Let's see. You're a young guy, I'm a young woman, you'd probably fancy me if you saw me in the street but I think you'd be pretty humiliated if I covered you in gunge and also... let's see... stripped you naked?"

"Oh please, no," I gasped, instinctively bending my body slightly, trying to hide myself, even though I was in only briefs and my hands were tied behind my back. I felt Margo's hands touch the waist of my briefs. "No," I urged her. "Please, don't. Please don't take them off me."

"I've paid for this, Alex," she said. "It's totally my right. I'm sorry, but you accepted payment to let me humiliate you and this is in the contract."

She slowly slid them down, uncovering my ass behind me and then dragging them further as I squirmed and twisted a little, until finally my cock sprang free and the sticky, sodden briefs slid down my legs to the pool of gunge on the floor.

I gasped and whimpered, trying to turn away from the camera, knowing that no matter how I turned I was now a naked young man and Margo was clean, fully clothed and doing this to me. I felt her take the briefs away and I heard them splat to the floor some distance away.

"Stand up straight and keep still," she said sharply, and I obeyed, trembling.

"Look straight ahead," she added.

"I can't see," I moaned.

"Just face forward. Lift your face up a little."

"Ooooh noooo," I moaned as I felt the cascade of gunge flow onto the top of my head and roll down my face and sluice down my naked body, dripping off my penis and balls.

"How do you feel now?" she said softly. "What am I doing?"

"Ohhh god," I gasped, "I'm naked and helpless and you're gunging me..."

"Yes," she said, "and there's nothing you can do, is there? This is what I'm paying you to let me do to you. If you don't let me do this, I get my money back, isn't that right?"

"Yes," I breathed, feeling the last of the gunge drip onto my upturned face.

"But you want the money, so you're going to let me do this. Right, Alex?"

"Oh god," I gasped. "I suppose so. Yes."

"Good," Margo said, "because I have to say, I'm really enjoying this."

There was a pause, then a pie hit me in the groin, so cold that I gasped with shock - which was a mistake because a second hit me in the face, and I got a mouthful of cream which I had to dribble out as I made a muffled moan. Then a third and fourth pie slammed onto each side of my head, and a last one on top.

I stood, naked and quivering, a young man with his hands bound behind him, his head engulfed in pies, and I felt the one on my groin fall off. The ones on my head didn't. I had to breathe out heavily and blow to make an air hole.

There was a long pause, during which I dimly heard Margo walking around me and talking, presumably to the camera, but I could barely hear her and couldn't see a thing. I was just abject and helpless, resigned to letting her do this to me, knowing I had walked right into it and I had nobody to blame but myself.

Finally I felt Margo's slim hands clearing the gunge off my head and she untied my wrists and got me to go down on all fours. I waited like that, trembling, cold, messy and sticky, as she gathered up a lot of the gunge in a bucket. Then she knelt next to me, a pie in each hand.

"It's amazing," she said to the camera, "but we've used nearly everything up. The session is almost finished. I could have gone on a lot longer. So could you, couldn't you, Alex?"