WAMlit Review – Student Gunge War, by Peter Grimnim

I can still remember, even though twenty years have passed since then, the very first WAM scene I ever saw. (Note: Unfortunately due to a minor wandering around during the scene, I am unable to share it). It was a pie scene – the woman in question is wearing a tray around her neck filled with cream pies for sale. A man, who lives with her in the show, lifts one of them with the clear intention of slamming it into her face. She sternly warns him off before shaking her head and smiling sweetly at him, clearly confident at this point that she can charm her way out of a pieing. However, he isn’t to be thrown off so easily. Realising that he means to go through with it, the women’s eyes widen; she’s getting very concerned now. She looks nervously at the pie and then back to the man.

“You wouldn’t!”

He shrugs – of course he would, and he does. She moves as if trying to duck out of the way, but the tray around her neck makes evasion impossible. Her mouth moves as if to say “NO!”, but it’s too late. The pie… er… well, for some reason they show an animated pie striking her face over the top of the real pie, which effectively ruins the moment of impact, though it soon vanishes to show the aftermath. The first time I saw the scene, I didn’t care about the animated pie at all: all I knew that, from the moment the woman first warned the man off pieing her, I just HAD to see this woman get pied. And my exact though after seeing it was “I don’t know why, but I just have to see that again.” (and I did, but not until some eighteen years later). Though I wouldn’t fully come to understand this until much later, I had a WAM fetish, one that, much like two of the characters in the story we’re going to discuss today, was based entirely around the idea of humiliation.

TellyGunge has already covered one Peter Grimnim’s stories, Poor, Poor Emily, in one of his own WAMlit reviews (https://tellygunge.wordpress.com/2014/10/29/wamlit-review-poor-poor-emily-by-peter-grimnim/). This time around we’re going to take a look at my own personal favourite WAM story of all-time, Student Gunge War (Part 1) (also known as Natalie, Alex and Amy) http://web.archive.org/web/20050325055323/http://grimnim.com/alexnatandamy2004x.htm , a story which shares a few themes with Poor, Poor Emily, but is also in many ways a much more complex tale.

Student Gunge War revolves around three very distinct characters, all of them students who have been forced to live together, two of whom, as mentioned, have the same fetish. Indeed it’s the quality of the characterisations that really make this story stand out as one of the very best for me. Grimnim really takes his time fleshing out the characters appearances and personalities, and in this first part, skilfully building the events that will form the story’s (never written) conclusion. To this end Student Gunge War is the longest of Grimnim’s published stories (he was also working on a Gunge Novel, which before his website went defunct had slipped release to the point where he was ambitiously declaring that it would be released before the end of the twenty-first century) even before you consider that it’s only a half-finished story. The first character we are introduced to is Natalie, at home alone intently looking at an image of a girl with golden hair cowering on a stool precariously placed underneath a “daunting looking nozzle”.

In Poor, Poor Emily, Emily watched a gunging on TV and as TG describes in his review, she almost shares the victim’s suffering as she watches. In Student Gunge War however, Natalie absolutely revels in it.

Natalie’s smile was getting wider by the second. “Oh god, She does not want that gunge does she!” She whispered gleefully to herself, “She is going to hate it so much!”. The picture stirred so much in her. The girl was so delicate, so pretty, so vulnerable, so obviously needing to be humiliated beyond belief. Natalie could feel the dread oozing from the picture, which she was greedily lapping up. She felt the desire to click Next building insider her. She longed to see the girl in the booth covered in the gloriously gooey slop which sat a few feet above her beautiful face. Still she resisted for a few seconds, gazing at the current picture almost mesmerised by it. The girl knew what she was going to get, she knew there was no way of escaping her fate and knew she wasn’t going to enjoy it.

Natalie became more and more excited. She wriggled on her chair as a buzz of sexual joy permeated its way through her entire body. Between her legs she could feel her clit beginning to tingle and start, slowly at first beg for something to touch and stimulate it. She could feel the dampness of her pussy lips against her panties, but did nothing. She just sat, milking every ounce of pleasure she could from the horrible anticipation which filled the poor girl’s terrified crystal blue eyes.

Natalie wriggled on her chair, she almost vibrated with excitement. She couldn’t take any more, she had to see the next picture. “Gunge the little bitch!” she whispered nastily as she defiantly left- clicked her mouse over the Next button.”

I really love this scene, and it’s one of the key elements of part one of the story. Grimnim, in his previous stories, always masterfully describes what the victims feel as they end up covered in gunge. In Student Gunge War however, he tackles it from another perspective: from that of those who love seeing (and as we will soon see, making) people get gunged and humiliated. TellyGunge would also tackle this in his Summer School series, with a scene inspired by this one, only with vastly improved technology at work (https://tellygunge.wordpress.com/2011/06/29/summer-school-chapter-1-beware-of-the-angels/).

It becomes clear at the end of the scene, however, that Natalie is no longer content simply watching people getting gunged; what she craves more than anything else is to carry out a gunging herself.

“What always had wanted for a long time, what she had wanted more than anything was to give someone a real life proper gunging. Someone who would do anything not to be covered with slime. Someone who would be humiliated beyond belief. Someone who deserved to be taken down a peg or two.”

It’s surely no coincidence that this leads straight into the introduction of Alex, who like Natalie shares the exact same WAM humiliation fetish. However unlike Natalie it’s clear that Alex is frequently able to act on her fantasies – although in a subtle enough manner that none of her friends (who frequently seem to be on the receiving end) seem to have quite caught on to what she’s up to. Presently Alex and her friends are returning home. A few drinks have been enjoyed, and her friend Louise has had a few too many, leading to Alex supporting her on the way back. Unfortunately something happens to catch Alex’s eye…

“As we walked I saw this gloriously large sludgy patch of mud right by the side of the pavement, right on the side that that drunken sucker Louise was walking on! Oooooh I could barely contain my excitement, it looked really deep and soooooooo perfectly gooey! I knew it would be a crime for Louise NOT to be covered in it.

            It was just that perfect consistency, not to thick, not too wet, ideal for covering some silly little girl! The idea of Louise falling into it sent a wonderful tingle right through my body down to my pussy. I’d already started to get wet! I just couldn’t keep the grin off my face!

            Disguised as another sway, I pushed Louise onto the grass just a couple of feet ahead of her putrid slime pit!! I couldn’t wait to see little blonde Louise plunging into it. She was wearing that little blue dress that left all her back, arms and legs perfectly exposed and vulnerable!!!!! I could tell that it would feel cringe-makingly disgusting against her skin and boy did she have a lot of skin on show! I was quivering with the thought of how hooorrrible it would feel for her! I was just so excited, I almost blew it by swaying back onto the pavement, but I just had to let her have a first hand experience of that foul, foul goo.

            Every step closer, I got more and more excited until I was almost vibrating with anticipation! She wouldn’t know what had hit her, I knew it was going to be great! In the dark no-one else had spotted what was lying in wait ahead, so there was no escape for my little prey!!! What a sucker!

            I’ll never forget that little screech she made as I let go of her arm and she slipped on the first bit of mud!! She skidded, then as if by divine intervention she plunged front first towards the mire. “Iiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee——uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaghhhhh” was the noise she made, it almost made me orgasm there an then. It was like heaven when she, almost belly flopped down into that muck, which must have been about a foot deep!!!

It is always great to see a girl getting a sliming that they just do not want, it just makes me as wet as hell. My little scheme had worked so well, I could see Louise was going to be absolutely covered!

Everyone, including me, leapt back in unison! Louise was creating some horrible gooey splatters as her arms flailed wildly. I certainly didn’t want any of that disgusting mud to touch me!”

Again it can be noted that it’s Alex’s reactions to all this that are actually more important that the messing itself (although that is certainly quite spectacular!). And it was when reading this paragraph – particularly Alex’s reaction at the end “I certainly didn’t want any of that disgusting mud to touch me!” that the same feeling stirred in me that I’d first had all those years ago when that woman hadn’t wanted to get pied. At that moment, more than any other character in WAM fiction before or since, I just had to see Alex get gunged (there would be bad news ahead for me on that score). I just had to see this exceedingly beautiful girl who took so much delight in the messy humiliation of her friends, and yet absolutely hated the idea of getting gunged herself, end up on the receiving end for the first time.

A slightly alternate version of this scene was posted as a preview of the story on Mucky Vicky’s yahoo site back in the day which made this even more pronounced:

https://groups.yahoo.com/neo/groups/gungeystories/conversations/messages/226

In this version it’s made even more clear that while none of the girls want any of the disgusting mud on them, Alex especially doesn’t want it. It’s interesting to consider why the scene changed, and I’ll look at that in a bit more detail towards the end of this review. It’s clear, however coming out of this scene that Alex is, in fact, going to be the perfect victim that Natalie will humiliate beyond belief by the end of part 2. In part 1, however, it’s another character that’s going to be getting the mess.

The third of the three girls, Amy, is a far more innocent character, very much in a similar vein to other Grimnim protagonists like Emily. The idea of being gunged is horrible to her, and she wouldn’t have the first idea why anyone would do such a terrible thing. Of course, she’s every bit the perfect foil for Alex and Natalie. After we get some background on Amy, Alex arrives back still delighted at Louise’s little expedition into the mud. Alex explains to Amy what happened, prompting Amy to give the worst reaction she could possibly give to a girl that carries out her fantasies of gunging girls who hate mess.

“”Yuck.” replied Amy, cringing slightly.”

Alex, lusting for more gunge, immediately puts a plan in motion to get Amy extremely messy. We see her preparing the mess (with great delight as she imagines Amy’s reaction to how horrible this is going to be), which she leaves in Amy’s bed. Grimnim notes that this is called an Apple-Pie bed, or “A bed filled with some kind of gunk that the victim doesn’t know about until the lie in it. A common prank of British youngsters. Not sure whether people in the US will have heard of it”. This seems exceptionally awful to me; I don’t think even the most dedicated Wammer wants to be going to bed and finding it soaked through with gunge when they lay in it! Unbeknownst to Alex, Natalie is watching this unfold; essentially confirming suspicions she’d held about Alex being into gunge. An oblivious Amy climbs into a very messy bed; the entire scene as she gets in is phenomenally well-written. For the first time in the story we actually now see gunge from the perspective of the victim, and poor Amy couldn’t be more horrified at what’s happening to her.

“The coldness, then the shock, then the stickiness, hit her senses almost immediately making her body spasmodically buck upwards. Her teeth instantly clenched in horror as every muscle in her gorgeous little body tightened. Pangs of shock and revulsion zapped through her, filling her with an explosion of electrified terror.

Faster than her petrified body could react, she noticed a click at the door, then a figure running, then springing towards her.

“EEEERRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” she screeched again as the body landed on top of her smacking her rigid, horrified body back down into the cold………..thing.

“EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee” She squealed as the strong body above her forced her down. Her body reverberated with cold, panic and disgust.

The body above her pushed her deeper into the…….the………..cold goo…?… that sat evilly beneath her defenceless, reviled skin.

In utter panic she squirmed and wriggled insanely, which only intensified the horrible, foul feeling of the gunk as it moved and oozed over her helpless tender flesh.

Her head was a deafening buzz of emotion. Her terror, her disgust, her utter defencelessness all clawed together at her mind. She was a bucking, writhing ball of horrible sensations…….

It seemed to last an eternity..”

I just love the descriptions in this scene; the word choice is absolutely perfect, even right down to her screams: doesn’t “EEEERRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” leave much more of an impression that simply stating that she screamed? Even the punctuation is used to incredible effect, only serving to heighten the sense of humiliation and giving us the impression that we’re right inside Amy’s head while this is happening.

The body that has landed on her is, of course Alex, who takes immense pleasure in forcing a mortified Amy further into the gunk she so carefully prepared for her. As Amy pleads for her to get off, Alex is initially of a mind to lay there all night…but, in a choice of words that will surely come back to haunt her, Amy tells her that she will do anything if she’ll just let her go. Alex obliges on the condition that Amy help her with her stall for RAG week. We’re left with a despondent Amy so humiliated and disgusted she’s close to tears, hating the contrast she has with Alex, who once again hasn’t gotten so much as a speck of gunk on her. Grimnim then advises us that part 2 is on the way – after apparently having been deleted accidentally – however, as stated, it was never completed, leaving me almost as despondent as Amy.

We can surmise a few things about part 2 from what Grimnim has skilfully set up in part 1. We know that Alex will no doubt have something exceptionally messy and humiliating lined up for Amy at her stall. However the wild card of Natalie will no doubt come into play at some point here. This, I would imagine, is where the alteration of the original mud scene might come into play, as the revision introduces the potential plot point of Alex’s diary (albeit someone’s diary being used as against them was also a plot point of ‘Poor, Poor Emily’). Grimnim describes Alex recounting the mud scene in her diary as an “over-zealous scrawl”, perhaps hinting that it will come back to haunt her in the future. Natalie will likely be investigating her suspicions surrounding Alex and mess, and should she read Alex’s diary, then there’s little doubt that, much like myself, she will conclude that Alex simply has to get the gunge she so loves dishing out. Natalie will then presumably take action to bring her wish to life – with Alex being the someone in “Someone who would do anything not to be covered with slime. Someone who would be humiliated beyond belief. Someone who deserved to be taken down a peg or two”.

Grimnim does also set up another potential plot point in that Natalie claims to be proficient at jujitsu, which is revealed to be a lie. I’m curious as to how this might have come into play – personally I like to imagine a very humiliated Alex, at the very end of the story, setting up another Apple Pie bed for Natalie to enact her revenge, and a squirming Natalie threatening her from underneath her, and Alex quickly coming to realise that her threats are totally a bluff. This would also seem to imply to the reader that the Gunge War, far from being over, is only just beginning. That however, is more something I would do, I feel – arrogant women who exude power like Natalie seem much more likely to leave a Grimnim story clean based on past trends.

Student Gunge War is an engaging, excellently written story written by an author at a time when he was really hitting his peak. You can really see how Grimnim’s confidence has grown, and he tackles this, a larger and much more complex story than his previous works, with tremendous skill. The characters are so well-crafted they all feel real; while there may be a contrivance in forcing two girls with such a rare trait together, the scenario of the girl who loves handing out messy humilations being about to fall victim to a far nastier girl who dreams of handing out a messy humiliation is so compelling and perfectly karmic it soon scarcely seems to matter. Grimnim was apparently studying psychology around this time, and it shows, with absolutely fascinating insight into the characters – and indeed the readers – fetish for gungy humiliation. It never seems to be championed or as overtly influential as “Poor, Poor Emily” or “Lucy and the Gunge”; I’m curious as to whether this is due to it essentially being an unfinished story, or whether perhaps the subject matter of this one is a little more niche. It’s certainly a story that’s stuck with me – even now, some ten years after I first read it, I dust it off two or three times a year, and amazingly it’s lost none of its impact. Every read seems to unveil some new detail that I missed before. While there’s certainly a large degree of frustration and disappointment in never getting to see Alex getting gunged, I’m pleased part 1 wasn’t accidentally lost as well. I’m glad for the time I got to spend with these characters, and I know that in another ten years… I’ll still be reading this story, still feeling the same things I do today. That’s an amazing talent for a writer, and an amazing power for a story to have.

Does anyone else have any memories of this story? Or anyone read it for the first time wishing to share their thoughts? Anyone have any unfinished WAM stories that they harbour similar fondness for, or lament that were never completed?

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24 Responses to WAMlit Review – Student Gunge War, by Peter Grimnim

  1. Ron Reis says:

    I find your thought process and likes very similar to mine. First, let me say that I much prefer mud over other types of gunge and slime. Second, while I know that many people prefer well dressed girls getting messy (evening gowns, fancy dresses, etc.), I have always been partial to more “preppy” clothes like sundresses, capris, light sweaters, etc.

    For me, an element to this is that there needs to be some real plausibility to the clothes matching the location. It’s much more likely that you would see a girl in a blouse and capris at a muddy soccer field than a woman in an evening gown. You can imagine her picking someone up or not realizing that it was going to be messy.

    Of course, I would always love to see a girl/woman dressed as described tripping/falling/slipping into the mud, particularly if she was disgusted by it. That scenario is almost always a good scene. What makes a GREAT scene is when the same girl makes a fuss about staying clean or better yet insisting that she will remain clean. Remarks about how disgusting the mud looks and possibly other people’s appearance post-mud really prime the pump. “Oh look how gross that is.” “I can’t believe she walked through that. Look at her shoes!” and “I’d never let these clothes/shoes get dirty.”

    A horrified reaction after landing in the mud is the best. Shock, dismay and possibly anger as she realizes her muddy fate are tremendous. Watching her struggle to her feet as she slips and slides only add to the scene.

    I have written a few stories with this theme. The first I’ll place below was written in the first person from the prissy/snobby girl’s perspective. I can post more if there is a response.

    ***********

    Last summer I went to my boss’s place in the country for our company picnic. Despite this being advertised as a very casual event, I wanted to look nicer than the other girls so I bought a new outfit: Long, pale yellow sundress, a white sweater (both Ralph Lauren) for over the shoulders, new white canvas Keds with little white ankle socks. I even wore a simple strand of pearls to dress up the outfit. I spent extra time getting ready that morning working on my hair and primping my outfit wanting to get the sweater to lay just right over my shoulders.

    Along with receiving several compliments, my choice of attire got me out of those silly picnic games and races and kept me away from all of those “messy” picnic events like the egg toss, water balloons and tug-of-war. In exchange for getting out of those activities, I agreed to be the designated photographer for the day looking for material for the company newsletter. I was able to observe everyone else getting hot/dirty/sweaty…but from a safe distance. One girl had an egg break on her shirt and another had a water balloon hit her shorts. I got pictures of both all the while being thankful that I did not participate in those games. When asked to join the water balloon toss, I said, “Sorry…no thanks…not in this pretty dress. It’s Ralph Lauren.”

    I made sure to only sample the “clean” foods such as the fresh vegetables, puff pastries and natural spring water. I kept my distance from the barbeque that many others were eating and in some cases wearing. I never liked eating that stuff with all of that messy sauce. I did get a few pictures of the people from my department “chowing down” on the barbeque chicken and ribs.

    After we were there for awhile, my boss had all of us go around to the side of his property where he had a pen set up for the kids to pet and feed some small animals. Despite my friend’s urging I graciously declined to go in as there were mud puddles throughout the enclosure and the far end was a complete muddy quagmire. I was getting pictures of my friend with one of the sheep when I saw that she was standing right next to one of those mud puddles. I told her that I couldn’t get her in the picture and that she needed to take a step back. She did so without looking and went right into the ankle deep mud, new Nikes and all. I laughed and teased her for always being the “messy” one and reminder her that she was going to have to spend the rest of the day in soggy shoes.

    To get a better view of my poor friend’s predicament and to snap a few pictures, I walked around the pen to the far side where there was a board that straddled the corner. When I went to step onto the board, a farmhand told me to be careful and I responded by telling him to mind his own business. The board was only a foot off the ground; not exactly a high wire act. He said that the board wasn’t bolted down and may not be stable. I explained that I had taken years of dance and had more than enough coordination to stand on a board that was 5-6 inches wide and maybe 10 feet long. He continued to shake his head and I simply extended my hand in his direction as a cue for him to steady me as I stepped up onto the board.

    After getting onto the board, I took some pictures laughing at my friend the entire time. The “ewww…yuck” look on her face was hilarious as examined her once-clean running shoes watching the muddy water drain out the mesh sides. I also was kind enough to point out how the mud was also kind of stinky. I remember looking down at that expanse of disgusting, slimy mud thinking how gross it would be to get one single speck of that mess on my outfit.

    In a pouty voice she asked what was so funny and I told her that, as usual, I was the smart one for not going in there and she should have done the same. To make my point, I gestured towards my pristine white Kegs and held my one foot out like a ballerina in the process. When I did that, the board I was standing on began to wobble. I quickly regained my balance and looked up to see everyone watching me. I smiled as if to say, “I bet you thought I was going to fall. No way that’s happening.” I walked back and forth bouncing a little as the board had some give to it. I was still grinning at my friend who had been left with squishy feet for the day. I did a cute little spin on the board to get my dress to lift up just a bit and was given a polite round of applause by a few nearby. I adjusted my sweater to get it back in place, smoothed out my pretty dress and thanked everyone for attending my “show.” A few more golf claps from the folks nearby.

    I daintily held out the side of my dress and did a little curtsy to demonstrate my grace. When I did that, the board tilted forward causing me to again lose my balance. I vainly reached for something to grab onto and windmilled my arms around trying to defy gravity. I felt my toes curl over the edge of the board pointing to where I didn’t want to go. As I tried to lean back, my right foot came off the board and waived in the air as I wobbled. I screamed, “Oh god no!” My right foot got back onto the board but only the back half. As I lurched forward again my right foot offered no stability. I just could not stop my lean forward. I shrieked as I fell and heard/felt a loud splat as I landed face down in about four inches of brown, slimy mud! I heard a gasp from the people watching and let out a defeated “ugh….” as I felt the mud soaking into my pretty outfit. My pale yellow dress was now chocolate brown….the same with the cute sweater I had over my shoulders. After a few seconds of denial, I started to get to my knees. I my haste to leave the slop, I tried to stand but the mud was very slippery. One step forward and I fell on my butt soaking the last dry part of my body. Then as I stood again I felt my foot stuck in the mud which caused me to step out of my shoe. (At that moment I had a brief flashback to earlier that morning when I was taking my new white canvas Keds from the box and lacing them for the first time. I spent a few extra moments making sure the laces were even.) Back to reality – I dug the shoe out of the mud which only came out with a sickening slurp.

    My entire outfit was ruined! With arms out stretched and one of my Keds being held by a shoelace, I slogged back to dry ground. I then realized I even had mud in my hair and worse yet, in my pearls! What a mess! I just could not get over the fact that people had the nerve to be laughing at me. I was so mad!

    I immediately ran to my car and left making the 45 minute drive home covered in mud.

    Like

    • wolf324 says:

      Thanks for sharing this Ron – that was an excellent read and a nice compliment to the mud scene from Student Gunge War, along with some of the things I talk about in the review. Does it have a title?

      A few thoughts:

      First person can be hard, I find, and not always used correctly, but I think you did an excellent job and in the case of this story, it served a purpose of really letting the girl tell the reader in her own words how much she doesn’t like mess, and (and this part she doesn’t entirely mean to be telling us, I’m sure) putting across how prissy she is.

      Much like I talk about with Student Gunge War, I love the conceit that your character wants no part of the mud, but is perfectly happy to trick her friend into falling in. Of course, happily in your story Karma is served up swiftly!

      In my own story that I posted recently, ‘The Dancer’, the main character gets thrown into the mud at the end of part 1. One of the readers pointed out that I actually forgot to mention what the character was wearing (!!); reading the descriptions in your story really makes it hit home how much it hurt that scene. I really like all the little details about her ruined clothing, and probably my favorite bit is the flashback to earlier that day when she tries her shoes on for the first time (nice use of parenthesis), and then the snap back to reality, and then the shift to the new paragraph where she realises: “My entire outfit was ruined!”. Really well written little sequence.

      Like

  2. Ron Reis says:

    Thanks for your feedback. Never thought of a title for the story but something like “Company Picnic” would have worked. That’s the only one I’ve done in the first person. Just curious, would you have added anything else to the pre-mud to emphasize her prissiness? Would you have changed anything about how she ended up in the mud or her reaction afterwards? I’d love to hear another spin on the same tale.

    Will you have mud in any of your future stories?

    Here is another story similar to the first only in the third person:

    PTA MOM

    When I was in high school I helped with an end-of-school year picnic at a local park for my younger brother’s elementary school. We set up the food and all sorts of games for the kids. The head of the PTA, Jill, was a very attractive woman in her 30’s who always looked very nice. Every time I saw her, she was dressed very nice in a “country club” sort of way – never a hair out of place and always wearing coordinated outfits that looked they were fairly expensive.

    On this day, Jill was looking very spring-like in her fashions wearing a white Ralph Lauren blouse, (with collar turned up), pastel pink capri-style pants, and pristine white canvas Keds. Jill gave us helpers our directions for the morning setup and she did a good job in her ‘supervisor’ capacity. One of the games she had us set up was a tug of war for the two 5th grade classes. She thought it would be fun to have it across a narrow, but rather muddy stream near the picnic area. The stream was only five feet across and was more of a swampy morass with barely a trickle of water running through the center. Since the nearest foot-bridge was 50 or so feet away we found a wooden plank to put over the stream near the rope so that getting across was easy.

    Jill was giving lots of orders but when the borough mayor showed up, she was also taking lots of credit for the event. Sure, she had a role in planning it but others were doing all of the work getting it set up. When talking to the mayor, she made it sound like she had been there since dawn personally setting up the food and every game. She had me tag along with the two of them taking pictures so that they could be shared at the next council meeting.

    She had a very bossy tone with how she was talking to me – and everyone else for that matter. When the three of us got to the water balloon toss area, she had me take a picture of her holding a water balloon in a pose that made her look like she was throwing and catching them. (Even though she would be nowhere near that game when it was actually being played.) Then at the egg relay she did the same thing – pretended for the camera she was going to race. She had me take several pictures wanting to make sure everything, including her long brown hair, was perfect. When we got to the tug of war area, she walked across the plank stopping in the middle. She had me take a picture of her standing over the muck pointing at the mud with a grin on her face. It was about this time that I thought to myself how it would be pretty funny if she somehow fell in. But of course, she didn’t. We got a few pictures of her holding the rope as if she were participating in the tug when in reality that was not going to happen. The thought again crossed my mind as I stood directly across the mud pit from her with her foot right up at the edge holding the rope as if she was pulling with all her might.

    Fast forward an hour or so when the picnic was in full swing and all of the kids were having a blast. Jill stayed at the pavilion while most of the games were going on and couldn’t have been less involved. As I was putting some of the food away I saw her checking her long brown hair and make up in her mirror doing some unnecessary personal touch-ups. The mayor returned to the park and Jill sprung back into “action.” All of a sudden she again took charge and herded the kids over to the tug of war area. They all took their shoes off and got on either side of the stream. Jill volunteered her one friend to stand on the board and be the judge. The kids got in place, the judge blew the whistle and the kids commenced to tugging. After just a few moments the first couple kids got pulled into the mud to a chorus of laughs, giggles and screams. The mud was pretty soupy and at least ankle deep. Fortunately, we had told the kids to wear old clothes, bring a change of clothes, and we had a hose to rinse them off when they got back in the grass. After the one team had pulled the other into the mud, the stronger team jumped in too -muddy fun being had by all.

    Once they were all in the mud, the mom who was the “judge” tried to pick up the rope to get it out of the mud and in doing so, lost her balance and also ended up in the mud sacrificing a nice pair of Reeboks in the process. Jill got a chuckle out the mishap and said something like, “Awe, even Amy wanted to get in on the fun.” in a snarky tone. Amy just looked up and said, “Real funny” clearly annoyed as she slogged back to the grassy shoreline.

    Jill then instructed me to take some more pictures of the kids making sure to get Amy as she sat on the bank taking her shoes off. The kids were still thoroughly enjoying themselves in the mud really churning it into a mucky mess. Jill walked onto the board and made some comment about all of her little ones enjoying their wallow – except of course for Amy. I took a few pictures of her lording over the muddy kids and smiling for the camera. She called herself the ‘master of muddy mayhem’ while I got a picture of her with her hands on her hips with a toothy grin.

    From her position on the board, she told the kids to start getting out of the mud and to head over to the hose for a rinsing. A friend of Jill showed up and made her way over to where we were. The friend called out to Jill and remarked how the kids appeared to be having a good time. Jill agreed and pointed to their mutual friend Amy sitting in the grass barefoot shoving her muddy sneakers and socks in a plastic bag. Jill said to the friend, “Everything went well. I wasn’t counting on Amy demonstrating her grace and elegance so that was a bonus!” The friend laughed and Amy pretended to laugh seemingly more irritated with Jill than the mud. The friend abruptly yelled to Jill to “watch out” as one remaining kid started to cross the board from behind her. Muddy from the knees down, the boy thought he could walk on the 18-inch wide board and somehow get around Jill. The boy was moving quickly and there wasn’t time to tell him to stop. Jill stepped to the far side with her back to the edge as close to the side as possible. She had both arms extended out to the sides with only the balls of her feet on the board as she stood on her tippy-toes. Miraculously the boy scurried past and over to the hose without getting any mud on Jill. She relaxed and carefully examined her white blouse, pink cropped pants and pristine white Keds; not even a speck of mud or dirt. She looked at her friend and I after pressing down the front of her blouse and said something along the lines of how lucky that kid was.

    Jill ran her fingers through her long brown hair and told me to take a picture of a kid’s flip-flop that had been abandoned in the mud. I stepped down next to Amy at the edge of the grass and tried to see what she was talking about. (A brown flip-flop in brown mud doesn’t exactly stand out.) She pointed to it by extending her foot out over the general area and I struggled to get a good shot without having to wade in myself. She continued to talk with this friend from where she was standing seemingly very comfortable on her perch. She said she didn’t want to venture to the hose area as it looked pretty messy and that the other mothers could deal with that. She stood on the board with her right foot right at the edge and her left hanging over the side. Yapping to her friend about the two going out as soon as the picnic was done which was going to be in a few minutes. The friend complimented her on her outfit and she started to explain where she had purchased everything and pointed out something special about the buttons on the blouse. In mid-explanation, she looked down at me and said rather rudely, “are you done yet?!?” I could feel her rolling her eyes at the friend. She resumed talking about her capris and pointed out her new-for-spring Keds saying that she was wearing some cute “no-show” socks which were really comfy. She stepped back to hold the one foot up in the air and her right foot hit a wet spot from where the kid ran across the board. She slid a few inches causing her to lose her balance. In what took just a second, seemed to last for a few minutes. She let out a yelp and tried to regain her balance. She ended up on the side of the board leaning forward over the mud. The toes of her immaculate white Keds were extended over the edge of the board curing down as her arms were going round and round. She teetered back and forth not wanting to fall off the board in either direction saying “no! no! no!” Her left foot then stepped back, slipped again on the wet spot and, overcompensating, she tumbled forward down into the mud where the kids had just been with a sickening splat. Landing on her side, she had mud in her hair, all over her white blouse and pink slacks.

    There was a collective gasp from the others in the area that turned back around to see Ms. PTA in the slop pit. Jill had a look of abject horror on her face as she came to realize how deep, slimy and disgusting the mud was. Her long hair had flipped into her face and she instinctively ran her hand through the hair spreading mud across her face. Amy let out a loud laugh and Jill slammed her right hand down into the mud in frustration. I stepped out into the mud and extended my hand to help her up. She almost couldn’t speak as she struggled to her feet. All she could say was, “I can’t believe this! My clothes are destroyed! Everything was brand new! Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!”

    Her right side was covered in mud from head to toe and most of the left was muddy as well. She kept saying “ewe…ewe” as she went from her side to all fours to her feet. Once standing, she held her arms out and watched the mud drip from everywhere. With her first step, her right shoe stuck in the mud. Her little white ped-sock was still pretty clean and she held her foot in the air not sure what to do. A second later she lost her grip on my hand causing her foot to plunge back down into the mud followed by another “ewww” and “get me out of here!!” The mud bubbled beneath her feet as she squished back to the grass and sat down.

    Her friend didn’t know what to say or do. Totally dejected, she walked over to the hose area and got some of the heavy stuff off. The blouse became fairly see-through which also added to her embarrassment. She threw the shoes and socks in a garbage can and headed for her car. Some guy offered a blanket for her car seat so she didn’t have to get her Audi dirty. She slinked into her car and headed off. Her perfectly planned day was ultimately derailed by bad karma.

    I got a few pictures of the fall as well as the aftermath which her friend Amy made sure made the next PTO newsletter.

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    • wolf324 says:

      Nothing particularly springs to mind about any changes; I think it certainly achieves what you intended it to do. And I certainly wouldn’t add anything: I feel like you have just the right amount of details there to keep it feeling natural. To add more I think would risk turning it into something that reads like a list and would feel like something you were forcing into the story, if that makes sense. It goes back to what you mentioned about believability: I think it’s certainly possible to go too far adding more and more detail for emphasis where it stops feeling organic and feels like you’re trying too hard, or at least becomes repetitive and/or redundant. Go too far and your character and their reactions stop feeling real, and then the scene actually loses impact.

      In terms of my own stories, I’m not sure how much writing I’ll actually be doing: The Dancer was something I was able to turn out because of the festive period. I don’t normally have an awful lot of time to devote to writing WAM stories, although certainly I would like to do more, and have a few ideas in mind. Personally I would like to mix things up a bit, although I have a couple of ideas for mud scenes that might end up in something if I keep writing.

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  3. Ron Reis says:

    I agree. Too much can drag the story out and make it tedious.

    I am struggling with new stories in that I have the same scenarios running through my head. Looking for a fresh angle. There is the “fish out of water” scenario which always works but I’m trying to think of something a little different but yet still meets my core requirements.

    In any event, below is one more along the same lines as the previous ones.

    TRIP TO THE FARM SHOW
    When I was in college I briefly dated a girl that was rather well-off and a bit on the prissy/snobby side. (Not sure what she saw in me.) It was late spring and a group of us decided to drive to a neighboring county for their fair/farm show. When I went to pick up Lisa, I thought she looked nice but a bit overdone for a day in the country. She was dressed more for a day at the country club. She had on a pastel/powder blue sleeveless blouse, a knee length white tennis-style skirt, white pom-pom socks with the pom-pom the exact shade of blue as her blouse and a brand new pair of the uber-preppy white canvas Tretorn sneakers. She even had her hair pulled back with a ribbon that matched her blouse. After complimenting her, I suggested that she may want to change into something more casual given where we were going. She didn’t want to hear it claiming that it was a beautiful day and she wanted to wear her new outfit. Besides, she said, she was only going there to walk around; not to work or ‘slop the hogs.’ I knew when to stop and let it go. We all got in the car and drove the 45 minutes to the fair.

    Pulling into the parking lot, we noticed some downed trees due to the week’s storms. Lisa insisted we park in the paved “pay” lot so that she didn’t have to walk too far. Because of where we parked, there was a separate entrance for us to use. The entrance was a cattle-shoot design with the side of a barn down one side and a wooden stick fence along the other. As we approached the entrance area, Lisa made a sarcastic remark about two girls that we passed going the other way wearing cut-off denim shorts and cowboy boots saying something about them looking like real hicks. When we got to the beginning of the entrance area, Lisa abruptly stopped and was focused on the ground. It must have been a low-lying area and from the recent rain the ground started as soggy grass, turned into muddy grass and the last 8-10 feet was pure mud. In an attempt at humor, I said something to Lisa about her pretty, designer sneakers about to get dirty and she found nothing at all funny about it. I would have offered to carry her but there was a line that we had to wait in and I couldn’t hold her that long.

    The others in our group didn’t really care about the muck as they were wearing old running and hiking-style shoes. Lisa then had a brainstorm. She decided that she could avoid the disgusting mud by stepping on the bottom rung of the wooden fence and could shimmy down the entrance line safely above the mud and remain immaculate. She tightened her one shoe lace that had started to loosen and took a few seconds to rub out a minor scuff on the rubber part of her shoe near the toe with a tissue. Now ready, she walked over to the fence and daintily stepped onto the bottom rung.

    As the line moved forward, she slid along the fence with her manicured hands gently gripping the top rail and her fresh-out-of-the-box-that-morning tennis shoes on the bottom rung only a few inches above the muck. She also made sure to not rub the fence with the front of her white skirt. We all kind of thought her determination to stay clean was funny but didn’t give her too much of a hard time about it.

    As we neared the front of the line, Lisa peered into the fair area and happily announced that the walkways were paved thus making this a good day. Not more than a few seconds after she uttered those words, she stepped to one of the final sections in the fence. The top rail she was holding onto lifted up out of its place causing her to lurch backwards. All in the matter of a moment, she let out an “Oh…ohhh…ohhhhhh!” followed by “No…nooooo…noooooo!” She tried to grab something to keep her from falling but to no avail. Lisa tumbled back off the fence landing on her backside in a few inches of wet, brown mud. She briefly laid on her back with her mouth wide open with nothing coming out. When she could speak, she yelled, “oh my god….oh my god…look at me.” And that’s what we were doing: looking at her. She had mud everywhere – in her hair (and hair ribbon), down her entire back, all over her white skirt and all over (and in) her white sneakers, including the pom-pom socks. One of the other girls in our group offered her a tissue just as she had used a few minutes earlier as a joke. She didn’t need a tissue to clean that mess; she needed a hose.

    I helped her to her feet with her slipping and sliding in the slop. She announced to our group that we had to leave but everyone else said “no” so she spent the balance of the day walking around the fair looking worse than any of the country/hick girls that we came across. She was incredibly miserable the rest of the day and needless to say, that was our last date.

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    • wolf324 says:

      If you’re interested, I’ve done a little brainstorming and come up with a few potential scenarios (one of them is a story idea of my own which I’ve since discarded); feel free to use and tweak any of them if you like, or even better, maybe they’ll help you come up with a fresh angle of your own. Of course, if you’d rather not read them and come up with something on your own, I understand.

      Before I settled on writing The Dancer, an alternate story idea I was kicking around was for a rich heiress to be on a tour of an exotic island somewhere; a Lara-Croft inspired guide would be showing her around, and be much put-upon by the heiress. (for example the heiress might want a photograph taken of a fantastic view which the guide – not her of course – would have to wade through the mud to take). There seems to me to be great potential for much more exotic mud-fare than the norm here: I have a very clear image of the muddiest waterfall you’ve ever seen. Not sure exactly how it would have figured into the story, other than one (or both!) of our characters ending up underneath it, of course. Definitely seems like some variation of this kind of thing would work for your fish-out-of-water idea.

      A fictional pop princess (perhaps a solo artist, perhaps the lead singer in a girl group) is about to film the video for her forthcoming single ‘Into The Mud’ (placeholder title, hopefully we can come up with something more clever). Her agent explains to her the very-obvious concept of the video: they’re going to be filming in a massive messy muddy field and the singer is (along with her bandmates, if they exist) going to be rolling around in the mud. Our pristine, pampered princess will NOT be cool with this idea. She will, in fact, insist either on say, a stunt double being hired for this, or for her bandmates to go in while she stays clean. During the filming she’ll take great delight in how ridiculous these people look in the mud, while she looks flawless. Of course, we’ll conspire to make sure she goes in hard in the end…

      A few places in the world hold annual mud festivals: the one in South Korea has the awesome concept of the ‘mud prison’; anyone found clean during the festival gets locked in the prison where they get bucket after bucket of mud thrown over them! Of course, the prissy girls in your stories typically wouldn’t go within twenty miles of a mud festival, so we’d have to arrange for say, an ambitious, vain young female reporter to have been assigned the task of covering the festival for the local news. Even if you don’t think the mud festival itself would work, there’s surely a great WAM scene/story in the idea of the mud prison.

      Perhaps you could take a page from Student Gunge War and have a story featuring two prissy characters, one of whom could pretty much be in the same vein as the character from Company Picnic, while the other – her boss, presumably – could be somehow much worse, much more arrogant, totally full of herself, and – although this might seem impossible – even more reluctant to get messy. Student Gunge War, as I mention in the review, does reuse a few ideas Grimnim has used before, but raises the stakes to the extent that this doesn’t matter. If you want to continue writing the same style of story, than raising the stakes can help almost as much as a new angle altogether, I feel. The boss character, in this sense, could be crafted into the ultimate victim.

      I think one of the key things for you in developing new stories might be crafting the right character: for me that’s why I think there’s potential in the heiress, the pop princess, the reporter and the boss– all of them can fit into the mould of the prissy-type which is what you seem to want to stay with, but with the right story behind them there’s enough there to develop their characters to the point where they all start feeling different – feeling REAL – and once you have a character that you (and hopefully therefore the reader) really want to see get the mud, the story should almost write itself from that point. For me the best part of writing is when a character takes over: the pop princess character for me already has taken a life of her own; as soon as I suggested a stunt double might take her place in the mud she actually spoke up and told me nope, no way – even the IDEA of her pristine image being ruined isn’t acceptable to her. She doesn’t want ANYONE watching this video and thinking that’s her in that mud. Conversely, I get the feeling that the news reporter isn’t as bad a person as I first thought. At first I thought she’d make her way through the festival, mocking all these morons covered in disgusting mud, but I’m kinda feeling that although she’s very vain, she’s a nice enough person who’ll even get into the fun of the festival a little, and appreciate the fact that people are enjoying themselves (she won’t want any of that mud ruining her pristine hair or her fine clothes though, oh no).That’s also my favourite moment from The Dancer, when the antagonist is on stage and realises she’s lost the dance contest – she goes into such a meltdown, berating the host and the crowd and freaking out over the gunging she’s about to get. All through that scene the host, the crowd, the other dancers, and me – the writer – can only watch as the force of her (awful) personality takes hold and takes over the story. The less control you have over your characters the better, I feel. It’s those moments when they surprise you that make writing worthwhile.

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  4. Ron Reis says:

    Lots of good ideas and thoughts there. I like having two characters so that one can play off the other.

    I think in all of my previous stories above, I had the girl end up in the mud by her own clumsy actions. Which do you prefer, that or when the girl is pushed/knocked in? I think the latter may increase the tension, agree?

    Taking my first (first person) story of the girl in the yellow dress near the pig stye, if we were to change it to involving another person, that could add a new dynamic. Would you have the girl who she had tricked into stepping in the mud serve up the revenge? How could you envision that unfolding?

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    • wolf324 says:

      For me it would be pushed/knocked in; personally I like bad girls, so in The Dancer I like having the antagonist throwing the main character in the mud. Clumsiness can certainly work; there are a lot of people who like slapsticky stuff like that, although for me personally the appeal in the girl from Company Picnic going in is that in a lot of ways it’s her own vanity that does her in. She doesn’t listen to the warning she’s given about going onto the board, and then she’s dancing all over it, totally full of herself.

      To use Student Gunge War as an example again, I love the idea of Alex’s comeuppance coming at the hands of someone who’s a lot like her, only crueler and in some ways more powerful and (perhaps) cunning. There’s nothing wrong with having someone done in by clumsiness or the hand of fate, but for me it can be sexy to have the girl smart or even genre-savy enough to avoid such carelessness, only for someone else to bring about their downfall somehow. Grimnim’s villians always seem like they’re untouchable – it’s hard to imagine them getting messy doing anything clumsy.

      For me yes, I would probably have had the girl who got tricked get her revenge directly; while you could still have an act of god or something happen, all of my scenarios above at least set up the possibility of a person or persons getting revenge: the guide gets the heiress, the bandmates get the pop princess, the mud-splattered people at the fesitval lock up and cover the reporter, the prissy girl might get her prissier boss (of course in the spirit of Grimnim, I actually think on occasion sometimes there’s something sexy about having a character who really really deserves to get gunged get away with it…)

      As for how to do it… hmmm… perhaps her friend gets out of the mud, gets mad and a chase ensues? Our prissy character doesn’t want them touching her after all… She runs across a field, evading going through anything squelchy of course, and risks a look behind her, just as she’s about to run down an incline… she catches herself, arms flailing wildly for balance, eyes wide with horror as she says a massive, horrible pool of mud below her. She catches herself, phew, what a relief, she thinks, just as her friend crashes into her from behind and they both slide right in. Her friend, still furious, will probably be trying to hold her down in the mud, much to the girls complete horror – all she wants is to get the hell out of there, but it’s quite impossible! Either that or perhaps, her friend plays a trick back on her, one that plays on her vanity (as like I’ve said, it seems karmic to use her own vanity to do her in), but I admit I don’t really know what that might be.

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      • wolf324 says:

        I wanted to come back to your questions – “Would you have the girl who she had tricked into stepping in the mud serve up the revenge? How could you envision that unfolding?” – because it occurs to me that I’ve answered them going the wrong way. I’ve looked at them going in a straight line from the girl who gets tricked going in to the end of the story. My answer makes sense, but isn’t a particularly interesting climax to a story. What we really need to do is go the other way – back to the beginning of the story. If we know that our end point is the girl getting revenge on our prissy girl, we need to work our way up to that ending. Doing it that way, we can set up a much more interesting way to stage the revenge. Ultimately Company Picnic doesn’t give us anything in the way of set-up for this, because that was never the end point that story was working towards. So what we would have to do is look back at how our new focal point – the dynamic between the two girls – changes the story. What is the dynamic? Why does it have a much more intense resolution this time than before? Does prissy girl’s motivation for sending her into the mud change this time – from a spur of the moment prank before, to something else this time – an act of sabotage perhaps? And once we know all this, we can use all that to sow the seeds of prissy girl’s downfall to make for a much more interesting ending.

        I do have a revised scenario in my head, but unless you really want to hear it, I’ll keep it to myself. I think once you start thinking about these things you’ll find your own answers – and the fun part is, they can be anything you want! – and hopefully come up with something that entices you enough to take a stab at writing it.

        Good luck with the writing, and thanks again for the discussion. I think we’ve covered some really interesting topics with regards to crafting stories and what makes good WAM fiction, which I believe was TG’s intention when he came up with the WAMlit Review format.

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  5. Ron Reis says:

    Thanks for the feedback. These exchanges have helped me come up with some new ideas for both the Company Picnic story as well as an entirely new one.

    By all means, please share your thoughts on the revised scenario. I’d love to hear it!

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  6. Ron Reis says:

    I have re-worked the Company Picnic story to include a revenge factor. Let me know what you think.

    I really want to hear your thoughts/ideas that you indicated earlier that you had regardless of your thoughts on this re-write. Thanks for your input!

    COMPANY PICNIC (2)
    Last summer I went to my boss’s place in the country for our company picnic. Despite this being advertised as a very casual event, I wanted to look nicer than the other girls so I bought a new outfit: Long, pale yellow sundress, a white sweater (both Ralph Lauren) for over the shoulders, new white canvas Keds with little white ankle socks. I even wore a simple strand of pearls to dress up the outfit. I spent extra time getting ready that morning working on my hair and primping my outfit wanting to get the sweater to lay just right over my shoulders.

    Along with receiving several compliments, my choice of attire got me out of those silly picnic games and races and kept me away from all of those “messy” picnic events like the egg toss, water balloons and tug-of-war. In exchange for getting out of those activities, I agreed to be the designated photographer for the day looking for material for the company newsletter. I was able to observe everyone else getting hot/dirty/sweaty…but from a safe distance. One girl had an egg break on her shirt and another had a water balloon hit her shorts. I got pictures of both all the while being thankful that I did not participate in those games. When asked to join the water balloon toss, I said, “Sorry…no thanks…not in this pretty dress. It’s Ralph Lauren.”

    I made sure to only sample the “clean” foods such as the fresh vegetables, puff pastries and natural spring water. I kept my distance from the barbeque that many others were eating and in some cases wearing. I never liked eating that stuff with all of that messy sauce. I did get a few pictures of the people from my department “chowing down” on the barbeque chicken and ribs.

    After we were there for awhile, my boss had all of us go around to the side of his property where he had a pen set up for the kids to pet and feed some small animals. Despite my friend’s urging I graciously declined to go in as there were mud puddles throughout the enclosure and the far end was a complete muddy quagmire. I was getting pictures of my friend with one of the sheep when I saw that she was standing right next to one of those mud puddles. I told her that I couldn’t get her in the picture and that she needed to take a step back. She did so without looking and went right into the ankle deep mud, new Nikes and all. I laughed and teased her for always being the “messy” one and reminder her that she was going to have to spend the rest of the day in soggy shoes.

    To get a better view of my poor friend’s predicament and to snap a few pictures, I walked around the pen to the far side where there was a board that straddled the corner. When I went to step onto the board, a farmhand told me to be careful and I responded by telling him to mind his own business. The board was only a foot off the ground; not exactly a high wire act. He said that the board wasn’t bolted down and may not be stable. I explained that I had taken years of dance and had more than enough coordination to stand on a board that was 5-6 inches wide and maybe 10 feet long. He continued to shake his head and I simply extended my hand in his direction as a cue for him to steady me as I stepped up onto the board.

    After getting onto the board, I took some pictures laughing at my friend the entire time. The “ewww…yuck” look on her face was hilarious as examined her once-clean running shoes watching the muddy water drain out the mesh sides. I also was kind enough to point out how the mud was also kind of stinky. I remember looking down at that expanse of disgusting, slimy mud thinking how gross it would be to get one single speck of that mess on my outfit.

    In a pouty voice she asked what was so funny and I told her that, as usual, I was the smart one for not going in there and she should have done the same. To make my point, I gestured towards my pristine white Keds and held my one foot out like a ballerina in the process. When I did that, the board I was standing on began to wobble. I quickly regained my balance and looked up to see everyone watching me. I smiled as if to say, “I bet you thought I was going to fall. No way that’s happening.” I walked back and forth bouncing a little as the board had some give to it. I was still grinning at my friend who had been left with squishy feet for the day. I did a cute little spin on the board to get my dress to lift up just a bit and was given a polite round of applause by a few nearby. I adjusted my sweater to get it back in place, smoothed out my pretty dress and thanked everyone for attending my “show.” A few more golf claps from the folks nearby.

    I daintily held out the side of my dress and did a little curtsy to signify the end of my ‘show.’ I had been looking to the one side and when I looked back to the inside of the pen I noticed my friend wading into the deep part of the mud in front of me. When I asked her what she was doing, she pulled her right foot back as if to start a kicking motion. At the same time she said, “I think since my shoes are already muddy, it may be fun to get a little more muddy.”

    I could see that she was about to kick a wad of mud in my direction. I sternly warned her to not even think about it and saying, “Just because you were clumsy enough to wade into a mud puddle, don’t think for a second about doing that! At first I was kidding but now I’m serious, you really are the messy one. Standing in ankle deep mud in your new shoes. How gross!” She was not moved by remarks and a second later took two more steps forward as if kicking a football and launched a huge blob of mud in my direction. I quickly jumped to my left avoiding the salvo as it splashed across the board and beyond. I maintained my balance without much difficulty. Only then did I pick up laughter and look back at my friend who was now sitting prone in the mud with her mouth hanging open. Her left foot went out from underneath as she kicked and now found herself muddy from the chest down. Her denim shorts completely covered in mud. I immediately let out a bellowing laugh at her muddy fate saying, “Good move! I love it! You really should be more careful. That mud can be slippery. Gee, about 10 minutes ago you were clean and dry sporting new Nikes and now you are wallowing in a pig pen. I bet you didn’t see that coming. See if they have a hose you can use to get cleaned up.”

    I walked back across the length of the board daintily stepping over the muddy spots. My boss came over to the end of the board and offered his hand as I stepped down. I thanked him for being a gentleman and he complimented me on my grace. Back on the ground I watched some guy help my friend to her feet as she slogged out of the pen. My boss suggested we get some group pictures before wrapping up for the day giving the camera to one of his helpers. He decided we would stay in the same area and do the pictures in front of the fence to the pen but we needed to wait for my friend to get cleaned up. I told him to get a few of me first since I was the only girl wearing a pretty dress. I stood in front of the wooden fence that had been freshly painted white which complimented my yellow, knee length sundress. I moved a little down the fence closer to where the board was as there was a white blanket over the top rail. I had the helper follow me with the camera while the others milled about. Stepping on the bottom rung of the fence, I propped myself on the top rail with my legs crossed smiling for the camera. I had my right hand behind me on the fence and the other playfully twirling my pearl necklace. I asked a few people if my sweater was still in place and made a minor adjustment for the photos.

    By this time my friend made her was back over to where we were. I sized her up as she squished her way in our direction. She had in fact found a hose to get the heavy muck off but still was a soggy mess. She looked rather dejected and I gestured in her direction saying, “This is why I didn’t go in the pen in the first place. You never know what can happen.”

    She gave me a strange look and said, “You’re right. I guess you never know what can happen.”

    I flipped my hair to the other side and asked for one more photo as I pulled my right foot onto the top rail. As I primped my dress and touched up my hair, I heard my friend say, “Say Cheese!” which seemed odd as she didn’t have a camera. At the same time I heard a metal clicking noise. I looked to see what made that sound and saw that my friend unlocked the gate on the fence. The section I was sitting on began to move! I watched the grassy ground beneath me quickly turn into the same disgusting mud that I had been standing over and my friend had fallen in. A huge muddy morass. The gate stopped mid-way over the swampy quagmire.

    “You better pull this gate back I demanded! This isn’t funny!” I exclaimed. “This outfit is brand new! I don’t do dirt and mud!” I yelled furthering my point. My friend didn’t respond. She just smiled. I stared at her for what seemed like a solid minute and she continued to smile not saying a word. I looked away and down at the front of my dress. My pearl necklace and bracelet complimented the little pearl buttons on my designer dress- all glimmering in the sun. My pretty little white ankle socks in my brand new white sneakers were also picking up the sun. I looked back to see my friend reach for the gate. She had come to her senses and was going to pull me back over. I said, “Hurry up. I need to get going. I don’t have time for this.” I gave her a look of disdain and started thinking about my next stop for the day back in civilization.

    With that, she gave the gate a strong tug causing me to lose my balance. In an instant I fell off my queen-like perch. I saw the brown, slimy mud rush towards me as I screamed. I heard a gasp from the people watching and let out a defeated “Ugh….” as I felt the mud soaking into my pretty outfit. My pale yellow dress was now chocolate brown….the same with the cute sweater I had over my shoulders. After a few seconds of denial, I started to get to my knees. In my haste to leave the slop, I tried to stand but the mud was very slippery. One step forward and I fell on my butt soaking the last dry part of my body. Then as I stood again I felt my foot stuck in the mud which caused me to step out of my shoe. (At that moment I had a brief flashback to earlier that morning when I was taking my new white canvas Keds from the box and lacing them for the first time. I spent a few extra moments making sure the laces were even.) Back to reality – I dug the shoe out of the mud – as I watched the white cotton inside fill with muddy water – which only came out with a sickening slurp.

    My entire outfit was ruined! With arms out stretched and one of my Keds being held by a shoelace, I slogged back to dry ground. I then realized I even had mud in my hair and worse yet, in my pearls! What a mess! I just could not get over the fact that people had the nerve to be laughing at me. I was so mad!

    I immediately ran to my car and left making the 45 minute drive home covered in mud.

    Like

    • wolf324 says:

      Ha ha, yes, that was pretty awesome – I think I like this revised and expanded version even better. Really liked how you built the suspense for when the revenge was coming – you managed to subvert my expectations a couple of times there! I enjoyed the opportunity for the extra dialogue before Prissy Girl (does she have a name? I’ve just realised I’ve been calling her Prissy Girl for like ten replies lol) went in. It can be a bit challenging finding new ways to get people into the mud, but this was an effective one and I liked how it left Prissy Girl totally at her friend’s mercy (especially liked the touch that just when she thought she was safe, her friend made her move).

      In my outline I would have tried to have the two friends enter into a bit more of a rivalry with each other earlier in the story; I would have worked an angle where they’re both sucking up to the boss and trying to one-up each other. I was going to change Prissy Girl’s trick into something a bit more vindictive – basically sabotaging her friends appearance as the boss planned to introduce them to some of the company higher ups, to make her look foolish in front of everyone. The boss would have been away while this happened, and as he (or she – in my version I might have used Prissy Boss, although we wouldn’t learn too much about her here… more a thread I would have that I might pick up in a follow-up story) returned with the others, Prissy Girl’s friend would have tricked her into revealing that she really didn’t think very much of her boss. As the full ire of the boss is brought to bear on her, Prissy Girl would have backed away cowering, but she would have remembered the mud just in time, with a shiver. Of course, just as she’s thinking how glad she is not to have fallen in, her friend lunges up behind her like Jason Voorhees and gives her a massive messy hug – which freezes Prissy Girl solid – before dragging her down to her messy fate. Workable, but I think your own take was much better overall!

      If it’s cool with you, I might tackle the Pop Princess Mud Video story at some point? Kinda feeling that one.

      You should post the revised, expanded version of Company Picnic onto the main page – VXS will be able to sort you out if you don’t have authorship already. A lot of people will probably miss it buried away in this discussion, and it’s worth putting out there.

      Like

  7. Ron Reis says:

    Thanks for the kind remarks. I value your input.

    Was the revised section descriptive enough? Could you get an image of this scene in your mind? If so, what do you imagine seeing, being said and going through the mind of Lisa (Prissy Girl) as she sat on the fence? (Beyond what I actually wrote.) This helps me gauge whether what I tried to express came through that way I intended.

    Yes, by all means go for it on your next story. Anxious to read it. I’m going to start a new one on my end.

    Like

    • wolf324 says:

      I felt as if the scene was descriptive enough, although I admit I’m not really sure how to answer your questions, sorry 😦

      If you end up posting this to the main page, maybe you could ask if anyone else has any thoughts?

      Like

  8. Grimnim says:

    You know what… it is exceptionally, exceptionally gratifying that well over a decade after I wrote those stories people are still reading and enjoying them! It is about 14 years since I wrote Poor, Poor Emily and probably around 13 years since I wrote Student Gunge War (Part 1).

    I’m now a published author in other genres of erotica, but I look back on my experiences writing WAM as the time when I really started to learn my craft. Whilst writing a WAM scene has certain obvious differences to writing a sex scene, both require a writer to really dig into the sensations of an event and extract those key details that really encapsulate the feeling the reader wants to feel.

    It was a real shame that I accidentally deleted Part 2 of Student Gunge War. I have searched for years through old hard drives trying to find it, but sadly I’ve never had any luck! Maybe (just maybe!) one day I’ll write it up again. Fortunately, the plot is still in my head. I won’t give too much away in case I do write it up, but your observations on how my stories tend to pan out are pretty astute!

    Losing that story and then writing a pretty bad attempt at a WAM novel (I gave it to a few volunteer proofreaders and I could tell they were all lukewarm at best about it) was kind of the end of my WAM writing career. I felt I’d lost my touch and it was a few years before I got back into any kind of erotic writing. Then, when I did return, it wasn’t to WAM.

    Every so often (e.g. like right now!) I feel a compulsion to write some WAM again. Maybe I will actually do it, I certainly have a bucket full of ideas, but I’d warn you not to get up too much hope as my record of procrastination speaks for itself!

    Anyway, thank you again for the review. I’m both amazed and proud to find your write-up, I really appreciate it.

    Peter Grimnim

    Like

    • wolf324 says:

      Great to hear from you – and congratulations on becoming a published author! That is awesome news. I totally understand if it never happens, but rest assured if you ever return to WAM writing, you will make my year 🙂

      All the best to you in the future, and thanks for all the great stories. Just know they are appreciated, and have given me and many readers great enjoyment through the years.

      Like

  9. fendermike says:

    I don’t think I’ve ever read this story before. Thanks for posting the link, and review of it. I suspect this story was the exception in terms of being more explicit, in terms of mentioning Alex and Natalie’s episodes of arousal. Not that I’m complaining. My memory of the ‘early years’ of WAM writing on the Internet was that authors didn’t push it to that level. So perhaps this is another reason why the story has struck a chord with people over the years. I agree w/your comment about digging into the sensations of an event. I want, and enjoy descriptions. Senses, feeling, the sights, etc, that’s a key component of a good story. And for what it’s worth, in regards to the proofreader’s lukewarm reception, it may have been in reaction to a lack of understanding re. WAM. When I wrote one of my stories earlier, I had another fetish writer read it. His reaction was partially “I don’t get this. Messy women turn you on?” The fact that you are a published writer, makes me suspect that novel may not have been as bad as you think. 🙂

    Like

    • Grimnim says:

      Haha, thanks. However, I’m afraid I don’t have the particular get-out. The proofreaders were all wammers who volunteered because they’d liked my short stories. The problem was, at that stage I hadn’t developed the skill of writing complex plots. I was good at writing a short stories in the 2000-10,000 word range with simple plots and a few intense scenes, but weaving a story arc that can continuously engage readers for 50,000-100,000 words is a much more difficult task..

      Like

      • wolf324 says:

        While I can totally understand – especially given you’re obviously not such a fan of it at this point – if you’d rather not say, I admit I’m curious to know what the story of the WAM novel was if there’s any information you’d care to share?

        Another question, which again I appreciate you might not want to answer, but: having moved onto other genres of erotica, has your WAM fetish evolved beyond pure humiliation at this point, would you say?

        For whatever it may be worth, if you ever do end up writing Student Gunge War Part 2, I will definitely write a follow up to this review!

        Like

        • Grimnim says:

          Hi, sorry for the tardy reply!

          The essential story of the WAM novel was of a 25 year old PhD student, Vicky.

          Vicky was bisexual and sexually submissive, but absolutely hated to admit the latter, even to herself. She was meant to be a ‘strong independent woman’, she wasn’t meant to be on leash and certainly wasn’t meant to be aroused by it.

          At the start of the story, she needs to vacate her university halls for a week or so due to refurbishment work. Short of money, and without a good relationship with her own family, she ended up going to stay at the family home of a friend. In one sense, she was kind of trapped there.

          There she met Bryony, the 18 year old younger sister of her friend. Vicky was instantly and overwhelmingly attracted to Bryony. The problem was, Bryony had a very cruel streak and treated Vicky’s obvious attraction to her mainly source of amusement… and an opportunity to blackmail her and torture her for fun, and erotic kicks.

          As you may expect, the thing that Vicky detested was gunge. And once that little nugget of information was discovered, Bryony used it quite cruelly.

          Vicky ends up in a nightmarish situation where she incredibly turned on by Bryony, and even more turned on by her causal cruelty and natural dominance. She is in a state of almost perpetual arousal, but desperately tries to force the submissive thoughts out of her head as she clings to her self image.

          As time goes on, her will breaks and the floodgates of her submissive desires open. Slowly she becomes Bryony’s semi-willing slave. She hates the gunge and other torments, but her pussy responds to the humiliation.

          I think aspects of the story worked very well – I just hadn’t executed the whole thing very well. I’ve actually narrated the story directly into the ears of past girlfriends who got off on it in a major way, but that was in a heavily abridged form, with the dominance/submission aspects played up and the WAM aspects played down.

          Fortunately, I do still have the text of it. Unfortunately, it would take a lot of work before I felt comfortable releasing it.

          On your second question, regarding the WAM fetish evolving – no, not really! The WAM thing for me is still tied up with humiliation, or at least a bit of squealing. My sexuality as a whole has broadened though and really anything where there is a source of tension in a interaction can heighten the eroticism – whether that’s an element of the forbidden, BDSM, teasing, urgency etc.

          Like

          • wolf324 says:

            Not at all; thanks for taking the time to come back to me with such an in-depth response. Certainly sounds good in concept – sounds very much in same vein as your Emma’s Adventure story, although greatly expanded. I’ve always wondered if/how far Student Gunge War might have went in that kind of direction with Natalie and Alex as well.

            A shame it’s never really seen the light of day, but I thoroughly understand not wanting to put anything out there that you’re not fully happy with.

            Like

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