The Rooms Pt. 05: Cum 'n Cocktails

It took the trio a few minutes to disentangle themselves from one another and their various levels of bondage. Master's voice didn't harry them for once, leaving them to wallow in extremely awkward, uneasy silence instead.

His absence certainly had the desired effect. The women worked in silence, not even looking one another in the eye except occasionally by accident. Only after they had finished and after they had stood in their uncomfortable quiet for a while did he finally speak: 'That was quite a performance.'

Nobody replied, of course, so he went on. 'Fair enough. I've had times when I didn't know what to say to a woman after we'd been together. I can only imagine what it'd be like if she was a colleague I used to respect. We'll fix that part, though. The respect, I mean.'

'Just tell us,' Priya said, not quite whining.

'Tell you what?' Master replied, all fake innocence.

'Tell us what's next. Somehow I don't believe that was the end.'

'Oh, that. You're right, of course. Time for another costume change first, but I'll explain what's coming up after that. Step into the next room and some of it will become clear.

Another door opened itself and the women stepped through, understandably nervous. Stacey was first in, poking her nose around and inspecting every corner of the largely blank room for tricks and traps. One wall had another set of the same steel lockers she was getting used to seeing. The others were all plain, blank, with a few small, almost invisible seems that she assumed were doors into other rooms of this weird maze-like building.

'Don't be shy,' Master said. 'No traps here, I promise.'

Priya and Tara followed Stacey inside. The lockers had their nicknames on them this time, so they immediately knew which outfit was theirs. They began undressing immediately, not because they were eager to get on with it, but because, by now, they knew it was inevitable.

'While you change, I'll explain what's going to happen next. The room after this one is set up like a bar-cum-kitchen. You'll each be given access to the, uh, unique set of ingredients in the kitchen and tasked with creating the most disgusting cocktail of slime possible. Each of you gets one bucket which must be filled. Once full, you're going to pass your bucket to the next girl in line. That girl is going to pour your slime over you.

'However, it's a touch more complicated than that. Each substance has a points value based on how unpleasant I think it is -- the grosser the slop, the higher the score. I'm not going to tell you what those values are, of course, but I will be keeping tabs on what is used. The person with the lowest score will face a punishment, naturally. So do you go easy on yourself and risk another forfeit, or do you commit to being a disgusting, stinky mess? I can't wait to find out.'

By the time Master had finished explaining, all three women were halfway through removing their current clothing. Priya and Tara were topless, while Stacey had started from the bottom half and was awkwardly trying to cover her naked pussy while pulling on a black leather skirt with her other hand. Hers was the most straightforward costume of the three: her skirt was paired with matching boots and a sky blue tube top. As the nerdiest of the trio, she recognised a Jill Valentine cosplay when she saw one.

Priya had arguably been given the most obscure outfit. She held out a red kunoichi, reminiscent of Tara's earlier Chun Li costume. If anything, it was more revealing, and the bright red colour marked her as Mai Shiranui from the King of Fighters series. Where it differed most from Chun Li is that Priya wasn't given any tights and that it had a plunging neck line that would show off her huge breasts.

Tara, slowest of the trio once again, thought she had been given a more generic outfit this time around. Inside her locker was what looked like a classic French maid outfit with some gothic overtones. There was no white pinny, but the dress was ridiculously short and lacy. It came with stockings that would be entirely visible, some quite expensive-looking gloves, and long puffy sleeves that reached further than the main body of the dress itself. It also came with a white wig in a bob style.

It took them all a few minutes to get ready, at which point they couldn't resist examining one another's outfits. Stacey looked the most normal of the three, for a given definition of normal -- that definition being "kinda trashy." Tara stood out the most, largely thanks to her wig, but all three were showing plenty of skin.

'Perfect,' Master said. 'In you go, then.'

Another door opened up and the trio of involuntary cosplayers stepped into a room that did indeed look a lot like a kitchen. The major difference between this and a proper kitchen is that the centre of this one was divided into three cells. Each cell had its own plastic bucket and each bucket was labelled with one of the women's nicknames: Tits, MILF and Wobblebottom. Each cell also housed a medium sized refrigerator.

'I'll give you a few moments to familiarize yourself with the contents of your fridge, maybe come up with some interesting cocktail ideas. Remember, each fridge contains identical substances, so your friends are going to be dealing with the exact same options as you.' He paused for a moment, in which time the three women opened their fridges and rummaged through the myriad containers. None of them were happy with what they found, but they had come to expect unpleasantness by now. Tara, still the most squeamish, jumped back from one container, groaning so loudly in her disgust that the other two could plainly hear her through the cell walls.

'Alright. You may begin. Remember, there's no time limit. The pouring only starts when you've all filled your buckets to the brim.'

It was quite a dilemma for all three women. Tara might have been the most vocal, but Priya and Stacey had to solve the same horrible equation: how much unpleasantness would their colleagues inflict on themselves in order to avoid a punishment? This was coupled with the fact that they were sealing their own fate. Each woman knew exactly what was about to happen, and exactly where the horrible gunk was going to end up. Every substance they added to their bucket was another substance they would have to endure in the cleavage, matting their hair, covering the large amounts of naked skin they each had on-show.

Stacey got on with it, reasoning that Tara was likely to fall into the trap of going easy on herself. She figured that throwing one truly vile substance into the mix would be enough to sway things her way. She also reasoned that putting it in first, so that it was on the bottom of the bucket, would mean she would already be too covered in the other slop to really notice the vile thing. After inspecting every single container, with a few gasps and several instances of turning her face away from smells, she settled for some fishy-smelling wet cat food. It wasn't the worst thing she had found in the fridge, but she was betting on Tara settling for stuff far less hideous.

For now, she was right. Tara hadn't even got through half of the contents of the fridge before settling on some thick, sloppy nacho cheese. It had a bit of a whiff to it, but she assumed that would wash away more easily than fish. And, unlike some of the containers she had opened, nothing moved in the cheese. There was quite a lot of it, too, she noticed, making decent headway into filling her bucket.

Priya was the most calculated of the three, or at least the slowest. She pursed her lips, weighing up the potential outcomes every time she flipped a new lid. A tub of muddy worms made her recoil, but having dealt with them already in the day, she carefully considered the fact that they were likely to be worth a lot of points. Still, she decided against them, at least for the time being, and eventually started her mixture with an entire plastic bottle of salad cream.

All three women had a hard time convincing themselves to put anything truly disgusting into their buckets, telling themselves they'd add something repugnant and high in points next, but never actually doing it.

Predictably, Tara's bar for what was repugnant was far lower than anyone else's. As the surface of her concoction neared the line marked on her bucket, the worst thing she had been able to convince herself to add was some lumpy, cold mushy peas. Realising she only had room for one more substance, she stopped herself and tried to talk herself into something more high scoring. After all, she thought, whatever punishment awaited the loser was surely worse than a few seconds of being doused in this disgusting mixture. It didn't help matters that she could barely even bring herself to touch some of the containers, let alone prepare herself to be soaked in their contents.

Come on, she told herself, you can do this. In one quick, erratic motion, she picked up jar of grey-white gunk labelled "JIZZ?!" and dumped it into the bucket. She immediately stuck the jar back in the fridge and retracted her hand as if it had been stung by a wasp and tried not to think about where someone might have procured enough semen to fill a jar. She tried to console herself with the fact that it was unlikely to be legitimate, but couldn't quite believe it.

Next to finish was Priya, who, in her own head, had gone back and forth between "unpleasant but not retch-inducing" and "could be worse." Unbeknownst to her, she was averaging fairly close to Tara's score. Similarly, she felt she needed an extra little push if she wanted to avoid the low score. She re-examined some of the containers she had deliberately overlooked thus far, wondering how little she could get away with and still feel confident of avoiding defeat. Eel slime might be worth a bit, but was it enough? Dog food had to be good but the smell made her stomach turn. Finally, she settled on a child jug of gravy that had turned to a brown jelly. It created a very unwelcome splash when she dumped it into her bucket, but at least she knew the job was done.

Stacey, meanwhile, had been taking a more willy-nilly approach to things. She was so certain that Tara would continue to be a whiny brat that she had gone easy on herself. Nothing in the fridge was nice, of course, but there was a pretty wide spread. Stinky wet cat food was at the top end of her particular spread, and, even as she topped her own bucket off with some mushroom soup, she felt confident that it would be enough to comfortably beat Tara.

'Looks like you're all done,' Master said, the second Stacey finished up. 'Everything in the fridges was logged in the computer system so let's see here. Tara, wow, I never would have guessed. I'm impressed. Horse semen. Disgusting, but very valuable.'

Tara's face drained of colour in an instant. Nobody could see her, but she knew her friends could hear Master's voice, and the thought of them knowing she had chosen to put that in her cocktail was mortifying -- almost worse than the knowledge that she was about to be splattered with it.

'All in all, that puts Tara out in front. I bet nobody saw that, er, coming. I certainly didn't. MILF, you're a close-ish second and, much to my surprise, that means Wobblebottom is dead last.' Master finished with a tut of disappointment, suggesting he had expected more of Stacey. 'Well, anyway, before we get on to punishing the loser, it's time to administer the cocktails. Bottom's up, girls!'

The trio emerged from their individual cells dragging their buckets along the ground and pointedly ignoring one another's gaze. Tara nudged hers wordlessly in front of Pirya; Priya shoved hers in front of Stacey; Stacey needed a couple of shoves with her foot in order to get hers in front of Tara.

None of them wanted to be first to act but all of them knew that hesitation would not go down well with Master. It was Tara, perhaps spurred on by her success, who acted first. She lifted Stacey's bucket with great care, very careful not to spill any of it on herself. Morbid curiosity got the better of Tara, who couldn't resist peering into the bucket. In truth, it was almost impossible to discern individual components, but taken as a whole, the contents were utterly disgusting. Patches of various colours shifted and wobbled as Tara got the bucket into position. 'Sorry,' she mumbled without conviction, and then began to pour.

Stacey froze, eyes and mouth closed, her whole body tense in anticipation of the disgusting mess that was about to hit her. It started with a teasingly thin trickle, spattering out from her forehead, but soon Tara got the bucket to a higher angle and the slop started to rain down heavily, engulfing Stacey's pretty face in seconds and quickly flowing down into her pale blue tube top. Much to her dismay, it offered no protection whatsoever, and her tits were soon coated. With no bra in the way, the lumpy gunk made its way down the inside of her top and pooled around her stomach. Still the slop continued to pour, and much of it went down the outside of her top, coating it and slathering her thighs. Some, unfortunately for her, even made its way into her boots, where it was trapped between her bare foot and the leather. She regretted the cat food in particular, as the stench was inescapable and the little lumps created an especially unpleasant texture.

Master said nothing, and since Stacey was too distraught to act, it was Priya who stepped up next. Now it was Tara's turn to freeze. Everybody knew what she had opted to finish her cocktail off with, and she was painfully aware of that fact. It didn't help that she could see the gooey cum due to it being the top layer. She even made the mistake of unintentionally catching Priya's eye as the bucket was lifted, perhaps subconsciously hoping her friend would give her an understand nod or a forgiving smile. Priya did no such thing. She lifted the bucket in a workmanlike manner and very carefully raised it above both of their heads. Tara was not given the courtesy of a warning, let alone the half-hearted apology she had given Stacey. Instead, the cold, slimy, horrifying spunk hit her right in the face.

Tara's felt every muscle in her body twitch with utter disgust, but she barely had time to register that disgust before more and more slop washed over her. It was excruciatingly unpleasant -- a constant barrage of slimy slaps to the face. Her flimsy outfit was saturated in no time, and though it theoretically covered her chest more than Stacey's Jill Valentine outfit, the flimsy material meant that the slop soaked right through and was stuck against her skin. It got everywhere, soaking her breasts almost immediately but eventually seeping through the rest of her costume too, so that she felt it between her legs just a moment after the downpour had begun. By the time the last disgusting lumpy dregs splattered comically on her face, there was barely an inch of Tara's skin that wasn't soaked in the horrible concoction of her own making.

Tara stood there in shocked silence, but, by now, Stacey had recovered from her own ordeal and was about to handle Priya's. After what she had just been through, Stacey didn't bat an eye lid at the gelatinous old gravy that topped the bucket she was lifting. In fact, she didn't take half as much care as the other two women had done, perhaps wanting to get it over with, perhaps not caring about a few drops on top of the utter deluge she had endured -- likely a bit of both.

As the pouring began, two things became clear. Firstly, that Priya's slime was unpleasant, but no one ingredient was anywhere near as strikingly vile as Tara's spunk. Secondly, her ridiculous outfit might as well have not been there in terms of keeping the slime out. The cut of it presented a straight path to Pirya's immense cleavage, and once that was as full as the costume allowed, the sludge kept on going, plastering the entire front side of Priya in a variety of slimy substances. Stacey couldn't pick one out from another, but she didn't need to -- all of it was gross, and all of it was making Priya's mouth open and close wordlessly.

By this point, the floor of the room seemed to be one big puddle of sludge. There was no escape from the mess. No sign of a shower, no change of clothing, and not even a dry bit of ground to stand on. All three women stood in ruined silence, in a constant state of sloppy discomfort as they waited for their cruel master to allow them into the next room. Would that have some way of cleaning up? Only time would tell.

But they had forgotten one thing.

'Now, time for Stacey's punishment.'

The silence in the room took on a new level of awkwardness. They had all forgotten about that and, now that they had been reminded, Stacey was not happy about it. The other two felt a vague sense of survivor's guilt, but none of them gave voice to any of this. They simply waited to find out what the punishment was so they could get it over with.

'It's only fair, I think, that you should suffer what your friends were willing to. Isn't that what friendships are built on? Having each other's backs, that kind of thing? So, first of all, Wobblebottom, you're going to fill your bucket with slop you scoop up from the floor. If you ask nicely, your friends might help if they feel so inclined, but they don't have to. Hands only, mind you, so don't even think about using one bucket to fill another. Now, once you've got a nice full bucket -- and I want you to ensure it's filled with a good mix of the different substances -- then, Stacey, Buttzilla, you're going to dunk your head right to the bottom of the bucket for ten whole seconds. If you under-count, you'll do it all over again. Understood?'

Stacey, who had been the most passive, pliant of the trio this whole time, took on a doll-like quality, as if she were trying to disassociate from what was about to happen. She nodded curtly and mumbled 'yes, Master,' in reply.

'Good girl. Now, go.'

Stacey moved almost robotically to her knees. Her skirt rode up but she didn't bother to adjust it -- what would be the point? 'Please help,' she mumbled, but it wasn't directed at either of the other two women in particular. It sounded more like a forlorn, hopeless cry for help, only much quieter than that.

Tara and Priya glanced at one another guiltily, then down at the slop. Neither of them wanted to help. They felt bad about it, and about Master coming between them so successfully, but they were both of a mind to look out for themselves now. Instead of helping, they stood uncomfortably, unsure of where to look beyond the fact that they particularly didn't want to look at one another again and even more keenly wanted to avoid looking at poor Stacey.

It took Stacey several minutes to scoop up enough slop to fill the bucket. Her top had almost completely come away from her slime-splattered tits, too, thanks to the bent over position she had adopted. Only when she was satisfied that the bucket was full enough did she sit upright, properly covering her breasts again for the first time in a little while. She hesitated understandably before the next step, staring into the brown slop with mounting dread.

'Come on Wobblebottom. Get on your knees, fat arse up in the air, face down in the muck. We haven't got all day, Pig.'

It was obvious to everyone that Stacey was struggling to calm herself down. She continues to stare into the bucket, silently talking herself into taking the plunge. Master's words must have hit home, reminding her of what could happen to slowpokes. All of a sudden, she forced her head quickly to the bottom of the bucket. She had to lift herself slightly to get right to the bottom, but at least that made it obvious that she making the required amount of effort. Her nose hit the plastic while her head and the tops of her shoulders were submerged in the indescribably gross gunk she had collected.