Five Minutes

This is my response to thewhitelady316’s writing prompt that was posted the other day. It was really very fun to write and different to my usual stories. I might have to do more of these in the future…

The strangest yet best thing that has happened to me in a very long time occurred last week. It was a warm and bright summer evening in London, and I was sat watching some crap TV programme in the living room of my flat. Sat to the left of me on the sofa was my flatmate, Amy. We had known each other for a fair few years now, meeting while both working at some small restaurant in the city. It was during that period that we developed a great friendship, sharing several common interests. We now lived together in a second floor flat overlooking the Thames and were now in separate jobs; I worked as a Web developer and Amy was the assistant manager of a designer boutique in Central London. We were sat relaxing after both having largely stressful days. I was browsing social media on my phone and Amy was playing with her long ponytail of long dark brown hair, looking particularly bored.

“Hey Brandon, are you as bored as I am?” she asked, looking over at me.

“Yeah, I suppose I am. Why?” I replied, still looking down at my phone.

“I just wondered if you’d like to do something fun, that’s all,” she replied, getting up from the sofa and walking down the hall.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked as Amy entered her room. I didn’t think much of her question, I couldn’t be bothered to get up off the sofa, let alone go out somewhere. There was a pause in the conversation as Amy did something in her room. I heard cupboard doors opening and closing, but didn’t think much of it.

“Well, I was thinking that perhaps you’d like to do something messy, y’know, like the stuff you’re always looking at online,”

My eyes darted up from my phone and across to Amy. She had changed out of the T-shirt and jeans she had been wearing and was now stood by the sofa sporting only a white bikini and her black framed glasses. I put the phone in my pocket and immediately paid attention. “What, like, now?” I asked, my mind suddenly full of endless possibilites.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun!” she replied with a cheeky smile. “I tell you what, I’ll give you five minutes to get me messy in any way you want.”

I didn’t know what to say! Amy knew very well about my Wet and Messy fetish, I had always been very open to her about it. I had even managed to convince her to take a pie in the face before a few years back, but she had never seemed this keen to get involved, even with multiple failed attempts from me to try and convince her to do it again. My heart pounded in my chest, what an opportunity this was! This was what I had been secretly hoping of for quite a while. “Wow, yeah sure. Let me just pop out quickly to the shop to get some supplies!” I was already making a list of substances in my mind.

“You’re not going anywhere!” replied Amy with a smirk as she started to walk over to the kitchen area. The bikini revealed her amazing hourglass figure and long legs. Her dark brown ponytail reached halfway down her back and her feet were bare.  I rarely got to see Amy like this, so I just stood watching in shock.  “I’m only giving you five minutes, and that starts right now.” She took her phone from off of the sofa and set a five minute timer. She sat the phone up on one of the kitchen counters so I could see. “Where do you want me Brandon? Times ticking!”

I quickly tried to form a plan of action in my head, trying to think of what we had in the cupboards. I frantically darted over to the dining table and pulled out one of the chairs. I placed it in the middle of the kitchen floor for Amy to sit on. I debated in my mind, did I have enough time to set up my camera? Do I record it on my phone? Then I realised, this was too good of an opportunity to miss out on, I had to forget about the camera and begin the gunging.

“Take a seat my dear,” I said, gesturing to the wooden chair. Amy giggled and sat down on the chair, looking around at me as I ransacked the kitchen cupboards for anything gooey. I frantically grabbed three tins of baked beans from one cupboard and four tins of ready made custard from another. It was a good job that we were often too lazy to cook anything proper, so our cupboards were loaded with tinned goods. I rushed across to the fridge, glancing over at the timer on the side as I opened the door. Twenty seconds had already passed; I was eating into precious wamming time here!

“The clock’s ticking, Brandon!” called out Amy. I looked over my shoulder at her as I grabbed multiple tubs of yoghurt and two cartons of milk from the fridge shelves. She was looking slightly nervous now as she observed the pile of wamming ingredients getting bigger. I added a jar of strawberry jam to the pile and a carton of six eggs before closing the fridge door. I then raced over to the other side of the kitchen to get some paper plates from another cupboard before getting a handy can of squirty cream from the cupboard above it. Both Amy and I had a sweet tooth, so we had several sticky and sweet foodstuffs in our cupboards. I took a step back and admired the pile of ingredients I had collected. The only trouble was what do I use first? I didn’t have time to waste as another twenty seconds had already passed. I grabbed a carton of milk in each hand and walked over to a now seemingly apprehensive Amy.

“Ready?” I asked Amy as I removed the lids from each of the two-pint milk cartons with a menacing smile towards her.

Amy looked at me and playfully smiled. “Do your worst Brandon!”

I didn’t need telling twice! Positioning myself behind her, I overturned the two milk cartons over the top of her head. Almost instantly, twin streams of white milk rained down on to the top of Amy’s straight dark brown hair, sticking it flat to her head. She squealed as the cold liquid cascaded down from above, showering all over her. It only took about ten seconds for both cartons to empty and I tossed them aside before walking round to the front of Amy to admire my handiwork so far. Amy looked at me with mock sad face, sat covered in milk. It left her hair with a shine and droplets were all over her bare skin. Even her glasses that she still had on were splattered with drops of milk, making it hard for Amy to see out of them.

“It’s so cold!” she called out as she removed the tie from her hair, letting the ponytail loose. Her damp hair limply brushed her shoulders, matting together in several strands. I laughed at her as I rushed back over to the kitchen counter and broke the seal from the top of the squirty cream. Grabbing two paper plates, I began to spray the cream. I piled it up high on the paper plates before picking up one of them and heading back to my position in front of Amy.

“Guess where this is going!” I said, moving my arm back into position. Amy was about to answer when her response was muffled by the pie splatting hard against her face. It absolutely covered her facial features and glasses as the plate fell to the floor. I laughed as Amy opened her mouth in shock. She raised a hand to her cream covered glasses, removing them and handing them to me. She began to laugh as she wiped away some of the excess cream from her face. The impact of the pie had splattered cream not only all over the kitchen floor and Amy’s face, but all over her chest and shoulders too. She wiped a handful of cream from her cleavage and flicked it at me as I positioned myself with the second pie that I had picked up. Without a moment’s hesitation, I delivered the pie to the same destination as the first.

Amy screamed as the pie splattered against her face, sending bits of cream onto her hair. laughed and began to make two more pies as Amy recovered from the previous ones. Again, she wiped her face of some of the cream, leaving some of the end of her nose and some on her cheeks and chin. She again flicked some at me as I frantically emptied the squirty cream bottle. As I did this, I glanced over at the timer, which was down to three and a half minutes. I picked up both pies I had just made and walked behind Amy. She sensed what was coming and closed her eyes.

I clapped the two pies together, one on each side of Amy’s head. Cream splattered all over her hair and down her shoulders. This time I decided to rub the pies in, rubbing one all over the top of her head and the other into her face again. I then discarded the paper plates onto the floor and headed back over to move onto the messier stuff. Amy giggled in delight as she ran two hands through her hair, leaving finger trails in the cream that coated her brunette locks. She wiped her eyes, giving up on cleaning the rest of her face as her previous efforts had been in vain.

I darted over to the draws on the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a tin opener. I instantly went to work on the custard tins, opening two of them and picking up one in each hand. Time was running out and so far really only Amy’s face had got properly messy. That was about to change as I positioned one tin over the top of her head and the other just over her breasts. I simultaneously overturned the tins, sending cold, sloppy custard down onto my helpless victim. The custard streamed down her hair, concealing her dark brown locks and the squirty cream under a layer of yellow. I moved the tin slightly forwards so that some attacked her face, washing over her features. The other tin covered her breasts, enveloping her chest under a sloppy blanket of custard. It quickly ran down onto her bare stomach and down into her lap, forming a puddle between her closed bare thighs. She giggled and raised out her chest as I made sure the tins were fully emptied onto her. I ran back to get another tin as Amy ran one solitary finger along the top of her breasts before raising it to her mouth and suggestively licking it clean with a wink towards me. I was looking over my shoulder as I removed the lid from the custard tin, looking back at Amy with a wry smile.

I walked back over to Amy and began to pour the third tin of custard down her back without warning. She squealed as the cold custard cascaded down her back that had thus far remained fairly clean. She began to squirm as if the custard had begun to found a way inside her bikini bottoms. I emptied the last bit of the tin down the back of her hair and went back for the next messy item.

Amy ran two hands through her custard saturated hair, slicking it back behind her ears. She wiped excess custard from around her eyes before looking down to survey her current state. As I grabbed two eggs from the carton, I glanced back over at the clock, just under three minutes to go. So far, I had created quite a mess and I was nowhere near finishing! Without warning, I splatted the two eggs down onto the top of Amy’s messy head, causing translucent yolk to splatter across her shoulders and run down the sides of her hair.

“Ok, this is disgusting!” proclaimed Amy as she wiped yolk from her bare shoulder. I wasn’t relenting as I smashed another egg down onto her head. With a scream, Amy span round and glared at me. “You bastard!” She joked. I cracked two eggs together above her head and let the yolk pour out onto her hair. Finally I grabbed the last egg and splatted it onto her forehead, rubbing my hand through Amy’s gooey hair as if I was shampooing it with the yolk. I left her hair a matted mess as I now moved on to the pair of yoghurt cartons. I walked round to face Amy who looked back at me with a worried expression. I hurled the contents of one of the yoghurt tubs in Amy’s direction, causing her to squeal and tense up her body. The white slop splattered all down her front, from her face to her stomach, adding to the custard that still clung to her body. She reopened her eyes and glared at me again, feigning being annoyed.

“I hope you’re enjoying yourself!” she said, playfully sticking her tongue out.

“Oh, I’m having a blast!” I replied, advancing towards her with the other yoghurt tub. I positioned it just above her forehead. “Chin up,” I instructed, slightly pushing on her chin with one hand. Amy reluctantly raised her head upwards and I began to pour slowly. The yoghurt washed over her face as she breathed heavily, gasping for breath as the yoghurt overwhelmed her face. It took a fair few seconds for the yoghurt to empty fully, so I savoured the moment. I still couldn’t believe that this was happening. I kept thinking that this was all a dream and that I would imminently wake up. But this was real, and I only had two and a half minutes of this wonderland left.

As Amy wiped her face for seemingly the twentieth time, I opened the jar of strawberry jam. I grabbed another paper plate and used the last remaining squirty cream to create one final pie. I overturned the jam onto the pie, creating a gooey strawberry jam and squirty cream dessert. I picked up my creation and headed back over to my victim.

“Stand up please Amy,” I instructed. Amy knew what was happening; she looked at the pie in my hand with dread as she rose from her seat. Slop that had pooled between her thighs splattered to the floor around her feet. I placed the desert onto the wooden chair seat right in line with Amy’s bottom. “You can sit back down again now,” I said with a mischievous grin.

Amy reluctantly sat back down slowly, closing her eyes as her bottom made contact with the cold jam and cream. It squelched around her bare skin and crotch area as she sat fully down with a grimace. She squirmed in her seat for several moments as the cream found its way inside her bikini bottoms. She looked at me suggestively and bit her lip as the cold cream squelched around her skin.

I wryly smiled back before going back to the remaining ingredients. Only three tins of beans and one tin of custard remained, and there was only one minute and forty five seconds left. I opened the tin of custard and moved over to Amy’s legs, that had so far remained largely out of range. A few small splatters of custard and yoghurt were dotted around her long legs, but that was about to change. “Legs up, Amy” I instructed. Amy lifted her legs and I poured the custard all along her bare skin and onto her bare feet. The custard dripped between her toes and poured onto the already covered kitchen floor. I really should’ve put a sheet or something down, but time was short!

Amy dropped her custard covered legs again as I went and took the lids off the three tins of baked beans. I needed a special finale, so I got a large glass jug from another kitchen cupboard and poured all three tins into it. The container was full to the brim as I checked the time once more. We were into the last minute now, just enough time to cover Amy just one last time. I positioned the jug over the top of her head from behind.

“Ready for the final gunging now?” I asked.

“Just get it over with!” snapped Amy as she tensed her shoulders. I started to pour.

The orange slop cascaded down onto the top of her head and down the side of her already covered hair. A pile of beans started to collect on top of Amy’s head as the orange slop poured from above. Eventually gravity took its toll on the pile and a stream of beans covered Amy’s face. I moved the jug forward, pouring down her breasts and stomach and into her lap. The final part of the jug was poured down her back, which Amy responded to with a cold shiver.

I discarded the jug on the side as the timer counted down into the final ten seconds. I watched as Amy again slicked back her hair and wiped her face. She wiped a hand between her cleavage and turned around to flick some slop at my legs. The phone buzzed and played an alarm as the timer reached zero. Amy remained in her seat as I took a deep breath and stood back to observe and admire my handiwork. This had certainly cured both of our boredom! I reached for my phone from the side and took several pictures of Amy all messed up. She posed seductively for some of the photos and feigned disgust and shock for others. She was absolutely trashed and a large proportion of her skin was covered in some sort of slop. I took the photos to keep as a memory of one of the most strangest yet best nights of my life so far. It was also one of the nights that contributed to mine and Amy’s relationship eventually reaching the next level over the next few months.

As for what happened next, well it was even more unexpected than before. Amy got up and wiped herself down with several towels before again walking to her bedroom. I began to clean up, reaching for the mop. As I began to scrub the floor, Amy called out from across the room.

“No need to do that yet, didn’t I mention before, now it’s your turn!” She was stood there, still covered in slop, but holding a large baked cream and custard pie with a devilish smile on her face. In her other hand was a plastic shopping bag full of more cartons of custard and other gooey foods. “My five minutes starts… Now!”

My protests were muffled by the thick pie splatting into my face…

About TripleWAM

WAM Stories @TripleWam
This entry was posted in Gunge, Pies, Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Five Minutes

  1. TripleWAM says:

    Reblogged this on TripleWAM's Blog and commented:

    A fictional story I wrote last week in response to a writing prompt.


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