Love: A Messy Business

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Love: A Messy Business Page 10

by Abbie Walton


  “So, it still works, does it?”

  “Like a charm. It’s got the biggest tank that any gunge tank has ever had – 150 litres of gunge, it can take.”

  “And where do you get the gunge from? Do you make it yourself?”

  “Oh no, that would be far too complicated. You can buy bags of special powder on the internet and all you have to do is add the water – it’s brilliant and not that expensive really. Would you like to try it?” Kate looked horrified at that suggestion.

  “Err…no thanks! I think one gunging or sploshing or whatever the hell you call it is more than enough for one day.”

  “Fair enough! Well, congratulations on popping your WAM cherry anyway. The first of many, I hope?”

  “You’re joking aren’t you? I’m not doing that again – not on your life!”

  “Not even for two thousand pounds? It’s easy money.”

  “Why do you ask? Does Mr Fukui want another session?”

  “I don’t know that for sure yet. What I do know is that he was very happy with the session. So much so, in fact that he has added an extra grand to the payment.”

  “Wow, so that’s an extra 500 quid each then – brilliant.” Kate was actually being cheeky. She knew that she had agreed to do it for two grand, so she really was not entitled to anything extra. But Colin had other ideas.

  “Actually, Kate, I’ve been thinking that you really should have all the extra. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have been in really deep shit and probably owing the guy five grand, not receiving it. I’d like you to have it.” Kate was really taken aback by this very generous gesture.

  “Well, I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, like that. I’ll take it. Thank you very much!”

  “Oh, the least I can do…now I just need to transfer the money from my PayPal account to my bank account and then I can write you a cheque or cash if you prefer. It will only take a couple of days.”

  “Err, cash, I think, please. That way there’s no chance of the taxman getting his hands on a chunk of it, is there?”

  “Whatever you want to do is up to you. I can certainly get you the cash. So…seriously…is this something you would ever do again? I cannot promise you three thousand quid a go, or anything remotely close to that. But you’re a natural at this Kate, and you could make a decent side income doing this kind of thing. Seems daft to me to leave good money on the table without a good reason.”

  “Let me sleep on it, will you? I have to admit I do like the idea of more money. I’m just not sure it’s right for me, that’s all. I do have a degree in Psychology, you know. I didn’t spend years at University just so I could get covered in food for a living.”

  “Or working in a bar with your chest bursting out of your top, either, I expect?” Colin teased gently.

  “Hmm…touché on that one, I suppose. I don’t know though, this seems a different thing altogether, doesn’t it?” This was definitely what Kate was thinking but she could not think of a logical argument to back it up. At the end of the day, it all came down to what you were prepared to do for money. Was what she did at the pub really any different from what she had done in the white-tiled room? And it would take her months at the pub to earn what she had earned tonight.

  “Well, no rush – just think about it. Now, I suppose I’d better get you home, hadn’t I?

  “What time is it?” asked Kate. Colin checked his watch.

  “Just gone nine o’clock.”

  “Hmm…Mum and Dad will still be up. I’d rather wait a bit until they go to bed, if you don’t mind. Another hour should be fine – they don’t stay up late at all these days.”

  “No problem at all. You can stay here as long as you like. I wonder if you’d mind helping me to tidy up a bit. That’s one of the downsides of Wamming – the clean-up.”

  “So you’ve covered me in a tonne of food and now you want me to do the clean-up? That’s charming, that is!”

  “I’m a very charming man!” replied Colin, quick as a flash.

  He was certainly that, thought Kate as she returned to the white room, which looked a bit like a crime scene with all the stuff spattered on the walls, the white chair on its side and a huge pool of gunk on the floor. She couldn’t think of too many men who could had done to her what Colin just had and lived to tell the tale. It must be love, mustn’t it?

  CHAPTER TWELVE: A BIT OF RESEARCH

  In the end, the clean-up took a lot longer than the hour that Kate was trying to spend, but she didn’t feel it was really fair to stop halfway through and get Colin to take her home. She had to admit she was pretty impressed by how domesticated Colin was, with his bucket and mop and his array of cleaning materials. He even had a pair of yellow rubber gloves which Kate could not resist taking the mick out of.

  “Ooh, I just can’t resist a man in yellow rubber gloves”, she cooed sarcastically.

  “Oh sod off!” replied Colin along with a two-fingered rubber-gloved salute. He was obviously picking up the ways of northerners quite quickly. “You’d do the same if you had to clean up as much as I do – those chemicals just rot your hands away after a while.”

  “So, what are you going to do with all these slops then, in the absence of your herd of pigs, that is?

  “Down the toilet, most of it – you just keep flushing it until it’s gone.”

  “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like a great idea. You’re going to knacker your drains, doing that.”

  “I know,” Colin admitted with a shrug, “I’ll just have to risk it. I should get shares in Dynarod though – they’re going to make a fortune out of me one day.”

  Kate could now understand why Colin had opted to tile that entire room. It did make things much easier to clean, even though it made it look a bit like the Wonkavision TV room in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Gene Wilder version).

  By the time they were done, it was approaching midnight. Kate was exhausted and just about ready for bed. She was tempted for a few seconds to ask whether she could stay the night but she decided that the request could very easily be misinterpreted by Colin and things could get a bit awkward. Besides, her mum and dad got up really early in the morning and they would know that she had not been home that night and then appeared wearing an extremely risqué outfit – now that would be even more awkward.

  Other than a chilly wind reaching parts of her that she’d rather it hadn’t, getting home and into the house passed uneventfully, except for a chaste, slightly uncomfortable peck on the cheek from Colin as she left the car. The exact nature of their relationship was still unclear to both sides, and both hoped that could be resolved sooner rather than later.

  Kate took off her cowboy boots and padded as silently as possible up the stairs, desperately trying not to do anything that would cause one of her parents to emerge from their bedroom. She was carrying a surprisingly heavy bin bag which contained her messy clothes and her boots. She had thought about just leaving them at Colin’s but decided to take them with her, a decision she was already regretting. How in the world was she going to get them clean without being discovered - and were they really beyond cleaning anyway? This was definitely going to be a massive challenge for Persil. It was a cliché but she hid them under the bed, hoping that they would not stink the place out to high heaven by morning.

  Speaking of stink, Kate was paranoid that she smelled noticeably bad as well. She found herself sniffing every few minutes and occasionally sniffing her skin and her hair to see if she could smell any odour. She didn’t think she could – but was that just because she had got used to it? She decided that she would certainly have a doubly long shower in the morning and not skimp on the perfume and deodorant either.

  Kate undressed, taking off the costume with relief. She would not have been at all surprised if a bean or two emerged from her knickers once again, but none appeared. She put on her pyjamas and collapsed on the bed in a heap, not even bothering to get under the covers. As she closed her eyes, she could not get from her min
d the images of herself that she had seen on the laptop as the mayhem unfolded. Could this possibly be something she repeated two or three times a week? And what about the perpetrator, Colin – what was she going to do about him? She fell asleep before getting close to answering either question.

  Kate woke up at 7.30 a.m. the next morning. Usually, she would simply have turned over and slept for another hour at least and maybe more than that. But on this occasion, she had an important task to complete. She would be working from 11.30 until 6 that day and then it would be straight home to get ready for the date that had been originally planned. She wanted to do some research before that date though. She wanted to understand better what this food fetish stuff was all about. Was it just a bit of harmless fun or did it imply something more sinister underneath? To put it another way, if she did start dating Colin, would she be dating a messer or a monster?

  Breakfast was a quick affair. Kate could not face bacon and eggs or porridge for fairly obvious reasons and so a bowl of cornflakes was the food of choice. Even this, she thought to herself, could probably be used in some ingenious messy way by Colin – like a Jamie Oliver for Wammers. Very soon, it was time to get down to business. Back in her bedroom, Kate fired up her laptop and typed a question into the search engine to get the ball rolling. “What is sploshing?” almost inevitably brought up a Wikipedia entry so she decided to start there:

  “Wet and messy fetish (WAM), also known as sploshing, is a form of sexual fetishism whereby a person becomes aroused when copious amounts of a substance are applied to the naked skin, face, or to clothing. Several websites are dedicated to WAM.

  Many people with WAM fetishes are drawn to the tactile sensations of wet, and or messy, substances against their skin. Other individuals simply prefer the sight of others getting messy or wet. A subject will often be pelted with cream pies, (sometimes individuals like these pies to be made of shaving foam, rather than real cream), have slime dumped on them, or sit on cakes. Another common theme is the deliberate pouring of substances inside clothing while it is being worn, clothing chosen for this can vary from swimsuits or underwear to full outfits. Normal street clothes, either casual or office wear, are commonly featured in WAM productions, but many other types of outfits from wedding attire to industrial overalls, or more specialist fetish wear such as PVC or latex, or leather items, may be used. White items are particularly popular with some fans of this fetish.

  Messy substances most commonly focused on by WAM participants include whipped cream, raw eggs, lotion (Japanese-style lotion), paint, oil (mineral oil/baby oil), mud, pudding, chocolate sauce, shaving foam, custard, baked beans, treacle, ketchup, ice cream, peanut butter, gunge/slime, cake batter etc. Wet substances are mainly water but can also include other liquids such as fruit juice, milk or alcohol (usually beer).

  WAM fetish videos (made by both fans and commercial producers) may include nudity and sexual acts, while others may only feature fully clothed participants. Videos can be seen frequently on YouTube and other public video services. Some of these videos are flagged, but most of them remain available despite the sexual undertones, mainly because a large majority of wet and messy videos posted publicly do not include nudity and are therefore safe for all audiences to view.”

  Well, Kate thought to herself, this sounds pretty much like what we got up to last night. This wasn’t particularly news to her – what she was really looking for was the psychology of it all. She found a small section on this as she scrolled further down.

  “No conclusive research has been conducted into the psychology behind the fetish, however, it is not uncommon for fetishists to have been interested in the sensations of messy play since their formative years (age 3-4), with a sexual element manifesting during teenage years with the onset of puberty.

  One unproven theory is that individuals drawn to WAM have low tactile sensitivity (Sensory processing disorder) which is increased and intensified by wet substances acting as a lubricant under applied pressure or friction. "Messy Play" is a common clinical therapy used in treating hypo-tactile patients (mostly pediatric cases) to give them an outlet and appropriate time and place to engage in "messy play".

  Another aspect is the link to other fetishes, as some Wet and Messy play is done in a submissive/dominating way and has possible links to BDSM; the emphasis being on the humiliation of the victim. For many, the simple breaking of taboos - doing what you were told not to as a child - brings about a sense of personal liberation.

  In any form, the fetish is about sensual stimulation, whether visual, tactile/kinesthetic, or even stimulating other senses.”

  Kate pondered what she had read. She didn’t especially like the thought of BDSM being a part of it although, she supposed, it was no worse than what went on in something like Fifty Shades of Gray and that had been a really popular book. It wasn’t like there was any real pain and suffering, just an unpleasant feeling and embarrassment. Even so, Kate hoped that Colin was turned on more by the fact that getting messy was something that was seen as a no-no in society and he liked to be a rule-breaker. Well, she was determined to find out at dinner that night.

  Kate carried on searching to see what she could find, even though she was a little nervous about coming across something that she really did not want to see. The next site down on the search engine listing was something called “MUD – Messy Ultimate Directory – A Forum Community For Wammers.” Kate decided to take a quick look. She was amazed to find a whole community on that site in one place. There was a chat room, there was a store where you could buy all kinds of messy videos, there were lots of adverts for other sites, each with messy models of different types. There was a classified page where people could meet up or swap things and also half a dozen forums which catered for sub-groups such as “Messy”, “Wetlook” and “Male”. Kate spent about half an hour, clicking on the various forum threads, seeing what people were talking about. The most popular thread was one where a forum member had said that he was going to wam his wife later that week and was looking for suggestions as to what substances to use. Based on the different suggestions received, he had decided to cover her in brown sauce, Dijon mustard and hamburger relish and even posted some before and after pictures to thank people for their advice. Kate wondered whether his wife was quite as thankful.

  Overall, though, it all seemed to be quite harmless, humorous stuff. There was nothing explicit or extreme as far as she could see – there were even quite a few women who were contributing and seemed to be into it just as much as the men. This was perhaps the most surprising thing about the site.

  Reluctantly, Kate decided that she could not spend any more time researching – it was time for that precautionary shower. In the end, she decided that a soak in the tub would be more effective and more enjoyable as well. Then she would have to get ready for work and suffer through another shift.

  When Kate arrived at the pub later in the morning, she was soon greeted with a very worrying sentence by her boss, Dave.

  “Bloody hell! What’s that smell?”

  Kate immediately assumed that he could smell some rancid leftover smell from yesterday’s shenanigans. She decided to play it cool.

  “What smell? I can’t smell anything?” she said innocently, looking as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

  Dave inched closer to her, sniffing every second, like a bloodhound on the scent of its prey. “It’s you!”

  Kate started to turn bright red. How on earth was she going to explain this one?

  “You smell like the cosmetics counter at Boots! How much perfume did you put on this morning, love? A bottle behind each ear?” Kate was enormously relieved.

  “Sorry, Dave. My nose was totally blocked when I got up this morning, I couldn’t smell a thing. Perhaps I did overdo it a bit.”

  “A bit? We’re going to need to give a bleedin’ gas mask to each customer when they come in at lunch-time. Quick, go and open all the windows and let’s get some air in!” Kate was more than ha
ppy to oblige. She’d rather stink out the place this way than the other.

  After the busy lunch period had finished, Kate decided to spend her allotted fifteen minute break in the afternoon by popping down to the Spa to see Liz. She needed some nail polish for tonight anyway. Liz was pleased to see her as usual, not least because sitting for hours at the till just did her head in.

  “Hiya, love. What’s new? How’s the ‘Love life’?” Liz was nothing if not subtle. Kate decided to keep it low key.

  “Oh, nothing much to report, unfortunately.”

  “Really? That’s not what I heard!” Kate’s heart sank. What, exactly, had she heard?

  “Not unless you know something I don’t?”

  “Well, Kate, a little bird told me that you were seen arriving at Colin’s house last night in his car. Are my sources telling me the truth?” Kate swore under her breath – she knew exactly who must have seen them – it had to be bloody Yates. She was going to kill him. But that would have to wait until later – what was she going to say now?

  “Well…it wasn’t planned but I did end up going to Colin’s house last night,” she conceded truthfully.

  “And…? Go on, spill the beans, why don’t you?”

  There was a delicious irony there that Kate enjoyed hugely but of course couldn’t share it. Spilling the beans was just one part of the story.”

  “Did you have something to eat? And then some “afters”. Kate considered this carefully.

  “Well…yes, there was lots of food actually. We actually spent most of the time cleaning up, if you must know. You know what men are like, not very domesticated. Colin just needed some help that’s all.”

  “Huh, all sounds a bit dull and boring. I was hoping for something a bit spicier than that.”

  “Well, sorry to disappoint you, Liz. It was just one friend helping out and another and nothing more than that.”

 

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