wam

My name is Alex. I’m a gunge angel.



Most people don’t know what that is. It’s a bit of a long story. Basically, I help people who are turned on by people getting messy. It’s a strange fetish and a private and embarrassing one, and most people are very shy about owning up to it. All I do is help them to own up to it. Not to cure them of it, if that was even possible, but to help them embrace it.



It took me a long time to realise that I’m turned on being messy. By ‘messy’ I mean being covered in gunge, usually some kind of food, preferably sweet, but I have been known to go for savoury food to if a client wants it. I’m not talking about bodily fluids and stuff like that, which is another fetish entirely. I’m talking about the arousal of being completely drenched in gunge, or completely drenching another person in it.



How I came to realise that I share this fetish is itself a long story and I’ve written about it elsewhere, but I’ll give a short version. I grew up in a largish seaside town near the capital city, and far as I knew I was a regular heterosexual guy. After college I went to work in theatre where I ended up being an occasional performer but mostly a producer. Then, a few years ago, myself and my then-business-partner booked a guy for a festival whose whole act was about gunge. He had two permanent stooges and they were meant to perform with him, but at the last minute they had to cancel, so my partner and I volunteered to stand in for them. We played the stooges in the show, which climaxed with first me, then her, being stripped naked onstage and drenched in gunge. I found the experience curiously exciting, to my surprise, and when afterwards I was showering off with the main guy, who was openly gay, and he admitted that he found me attractive, I was even more surprised to discover that I was turned on by his interest. To cut a long story short, he seduced me, and for nearly two years we lived together with me as his partner in and out of bed. During that time, as part of our relationship, he used to cover me in gunge, photograph the result and post the photos on the internet so we could see what kind of reaction we got. I found it very arousing to have total strangers (usually men) telling me I was sexy and describing in great detail what they’d like to do to me, especially when I had Andy who was eager to actually carry out their suggestions.



Our relationship ran its course and at the end, he symbolically deleted all the pictures from the internet, copied them onto a flash drive and gave them to me, and then secure-deleted them from his own hard drive, giving me back all the pictures. We parted amicably. Although I’d really enjoyed having sex with Andy, I had missed going out with women and he had noticed.



A year or so after my breakup with Andy, I was hanging around the gunge sites on the internet and I noticed the number of people who wanted to get messy with someone but seemed to have nobody to do it with. I had been lucky. I had been in a messy nirvana with a considerate lover who knew how to push all my buttons (except the heterosexual ones) and months of strangers viewing my photos had made me comfortable with the idea that other people had seen my naked body.



I began to get an idea for a service that I could provide.



I wondered if there was a demand out there for a person who would offer an introduction to getting messy that could go as far as the client wanted it to go, within limits of safety, of course. I knew that there were messy models that hired themselves out for gunge sessions but I sensed that some people wanted more. A lot of men wanted to be gunged by a scantily clad girl but some women wanted to gunge a man, and not have to worry too much about how he felt about it. People wanted someone who would perform a bit, not just be self-conscious and giggly about it. They wanted to feel that the other person was really having the experience, not just playing around.



I read an article about sexual surrogates. It seemed like the kind of approach I should use; someone who would invite someone else into the experience of getting messy, someone too shy or inhibited or uncertain to initiate it, and who would willingly get involved in the experience as far as the other person wanted to go.



Part of me genuinely wanted to introduce people to the experience. And sure, part of me missed getting messy, and wanted to do it with as wide a variety of people as possible.



I set about designing a website, and a contract with different levels of terms and conditions. I looked around to see where the really needy, shy people hung out. I went to the gym. I took some more pictures of myself, both clean and messy, clothed and, well, less clothed. I am not a big, strong guy. I’m average height, slightly built and reasonably cute, and besides my teeth and my eyelashes (which I’ve always been complimented on), my most alluring feature, or so I’ve been repeatedly told, is my ass, which is rounded and smooth and slightly protruding, like a girl’s. I can be reasonably androgynous if I want to be. That was one of the things that attracted Andy to me and it was one of the things that I played up in my advertising, along with my extensive experience of being messy and my warm and friendly presence.



I felt for the people who had never got to be messy. It had been such a great and life-changing experience for me that I really wanted to share it with others. I wanted to offer up my pride and dignity and composure so that they could get off. It didn’t seem like too much of a sacrifice to make.



It hardly needs to be said that I had little idea of what I was letting myself in for.



***



WWW.GUNGEANGEL.COM



Are you curious about getting wet and messy?



Have you ever wanted to gunge someone else, or be gunged yourself, but have never had the nerve to ask anyone?



At gungeangel.com, we provide a one-to-one, personal, intimate space in which you can have the gunge session you’ve always wanted to try.



I’m an experienced, former-full-time gunge slave. I offer a bespoke, personal service tailored to your needs. I can be whoever you want me to be, and I give as skilfully and as enthusiastically as I receive.



Here are our services. All are available to ages 18+:



1. INTRODUCTORY: £xx



I will come to your home, or to a place that you have booked and secured, and I give you an introduction to WAM that involves either mutual or one-way gungeing/pieing. Materials can either be obtained by you in advance, or you can pay me to obtain them myself and bring them along. Special clothing is worn.



Session duration: 1 hour.



2. BEGINNER: £xx



For those who want to take it a stage further. As above, but outer clothing may be removed up to but not including underwear. No physical contact is allowed beyond gungeing.



Session duration: 90 minutes.



3. INTERMEDIATE: £xx



As Beginner level, but at the client’s discretion, nudity is permitted. (Mutual nudity is not compulsory, i.e. you don’t have to undress even if you want me to.) Some limited physical contact is permitted according to our Terms & Conditions (click here for details).



Session duration: 1-2 hours.



4. CLIENT: £xxx



Our service for trusted clients. I obtain all materials, per your instructions, and you are entitled to demand nudity. A more extensive range of physical contact is permitted according to our Terms & Conditions (click here for details).



5. DELUXE: £xxx



Our top service. Let me be your gungeslave.



I obtain all materials, per your instructions.



I will dress as per your request (incl. TV) and role-play a scenario mutually agreed in writing in advance.



I will service your physical requirements to the best of my ability and you have intimate physical access to my body, according to the Terms & Conditions (click here for details).



I am not reasonably allowed to refuse any request made according to the Terms & Conditions. Within those restrictions, you can do what you want with me!



I will also clean up afterwards!



Duration: 2-3 hours (ex. cleanup).



5. GROUP: £xxx



This is available on a discretionary basis, on all levels: Introductory/Beginner/ Intermediate/Client/Deluxe.



Price depends on group size. Maximum group six persons.



Owing to the physically demanding nature of a group session, I do not offer the post-session cleanup.



Duration: max. 4 hours.



***



I tried to make clear was that getting messy didn’t have to be a sexual thing. It could be pure play. Nobody had to take any clothes off. I built it into the pricing structure that if the client wanted me to take my clothes off, it would cost extra, and if the client wanted to go further than that it would be extra again. I wanted to emphasise the ‘play’ aspect of the whole thing. I knew that most people who were into getting messy were into the playfulness of it, and I thought that that would be enough to get people interested. I included a questionnaire, asking people what kind of thing they’d like to do; I encouraged them to talk about their fantasies in detail and share them with me, and in the early email exchanges before a session I always responded positively to anyone’s description of a fantasy, even when it wasn’t something I’d want to do myself.



I expected to find myself going from place to place, discreetly introducing people to the pleasure of pieing and being pied, and that it would be limited pretty much to that. I had this image of myself as the Pie Doctor – the neatly dressed, friendly, slim young man who would willingly offer his face for someone to throw a first pie at, and then I would move on, my work done. I knew that maybe one or two clients might want more than that, might want me to undress and maybe get a bit more messy than others, and I was quietly excited by the prospect. But I really didn’t think that it would amount to much more than me getting a few extra quid for being pied in the face by the occasional stranger.



I was, as it turns out, very very wrong.



This is the story of how wrong I was.



***



CLIENT #1: LUKE



Hi Alex,



I’d like to order a session with you. I’m kind of new to this whole wam business so I think I’ll just go for the Beginner level for now!



Q.: What kind of wam do you like?



A.: I like pies and gunge mostly. I get really turned on by the idea of a pie in the face from another guy! I’ve done some self-wamming at home and I think it’s time I tried it with another guy.



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



A.: I’d like you to take off my outer clothes and pie me in the face several times, and if it’s as good as I hope it’ll be I’d like you to pie my inside my briefs and maybe take them off – is it possible to get an option on raising the session to a higher level once it’s underway? I don’t know how into it I’ll be on the day itself but in case I am I’d like to have the chance to go a bit further there and then.



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



A.: I saw your photos on GungeTube and followed the link to your site. I love your pics! You have a very sexy body and it looked like you were having a good time. Plus I’d like to see you doing the gunging for a change!





I turned up at Luke’s flat on a bright Saturday afternoon. He answered the door in a t-shirt and jeans and smiled at me.



‘Hi,’ I said, ‘I’m Alex.’



‘Come in,’ he said, smiling. He looked a few years younger than me — maybe 20 or 21. I felt myself going pink when I realised that Luke was the first person I met who I knew had seen the pictures of me naked and messy on the internet.



He offered me tea or coffee and I accepted a glass of water. We sat in his kitchen making small talk for a while and then I realised that he seemed a little shy about getting to the point. I waited for a break in the conversation.



‘So,’ I said, ‘. . . shall we maybe do this?’



‘Yeah,’ he said, smiling.



‘Can I borrow your bathroom to get into my clothes?’ I asked. He directed me to where it was and I went inside.



I quickly stripped off my street clothes of boots, socks, chinos, shirt and t-shirt, and then, glancing at myself in the mirror, I pulled down my boxers and folded them with my other clothes. Then, naked, I took out my white briefs and put them on, followed by my neutral grey t-shirt and black jeans. I checked my appearance, but I’d shaved carefully and showered that morning and I looked clean and neat. Then I took my bag and left the bathroom.



Luke was standing in the hallway wearing a white t-shirt and white boxers, smiling.



‘It’s this way,’ he said. He led me into a room with plastic sheeting on the floor and draped over the furniture. There was a table with several pies on it, and four buckets of gunge.



‘Is it okay?’ he said. ‘Is that everything you need?’



‘This looks great,’ I said. I put my bag down and, rather nervously, we stood facing each other, smiling. I reminded myself that I had nothing to be afraid of; I’d been gunged and countless numbers of people had seen the pictures, including Luke himself. He’d seen me naked, messy and humiliated. And this time I didn’t even have to go through all that; I’d be doing it to him.



‘So we’re going to go Beginner level at first, yeah?’ I said.



‘Yeah,’ he said.



‘So, just to remind you, that means that you keep those clothes on and no physical contact beyond gunging is allowed, okay?’



‘Okay,’ he nodded, swallowing.



‘Come on,’ I smiled, ‘let’s get you messy.’



I made him kneel opposite me and I picked up a pie in one hand.



‘So, Luke,’ I said, smiling, knowing that in a minute I was going to push this gooey, quivering pie into his cute face, ‘why don’t you tell me what you want to do with this?’



He looked back at me, trembling slightly. I felt the power that I had and I was inwardly glad at being the first guy he would ever get messy with.



‘You know what,’ he said abruptly, ‘I’ve changed my mind.’



I felt my stomach clench, a bit.



‘You don’t want to do this?’ I said.



‘Well,’ he said, and paused.



‘It’s okay, we don’t have to,’ I said, putting down the pie, ‘but you know that the fee is non-returnable. I mean, I’ve committed my time to this.’



‘I do want to do it,’ he said, ‘I just think . . . I don’t think I want to do what I said we’d do.’



‘Okay,’ I said, a little confused. Then Luke’s eyes gleamed.



‘I want an upgrade,’ he said. ‘I did mention that I’d like one, and you said it’d be okay.’



I thought about this for a moment, and then I nodded.



‘Okay,’ I said carefully. ‘What kind of upgrade?’



‘I’d like to go to Client,’ he said, grinning. I paused, feeling myself go pink. It looked like Luke had changed his mind about how messy he wanted me to get.



‘You’ll need to pay now,’ I said.



‘That’s not a problem,’ he said, and held out a wad of cash to me.



I took it and counted it. It was more than was needed for Client level. I felt my mouth go dry.



‘This is more than you actually owe for Client level,’ I pointed out.



‘Yeah, I know,’ he said. ‘I was hoping to earn some extra goodwill.’



I considered. On the one hand I was hardly prepared for whatever Luke wanted to do; on the other, it was ready cash. I didn’t need to think too hard.



‘Okay,’ I said. He smiled. I took the money into the other room and put it in my chinos, then I returned. He was still in white t-shirt and boxer shorts, I was in grey t-shirt and black jeans.



‘So,’ I said, ‘what do you want me to do?’



‘Pie me,’ he breathed, staring at me. I smiled, picked up the pie and held it up.



‘You want me to pie you in the face with this?’ I said.



‘Yes,’ he said.



‘Okay,’ I said, and I pushed the pie into Luke’s handsome face. He groaned softly. I smeared it in and let it fall slowly off him. He blinked as the gungey pieces of crust fell to the floor.



‘Another one?’ I said.



‘Yes,’ he moaned.



I took another pie and pied his face once more, then I took a third, pulled open his boxer shorts and, without looking inside, pushed the pie into them. He shook and moaned, giggling.



‘How do I look?’ he said.



‘Very handsome,’ I said, smiling. Maybe this was going to be about Luke being pied after all. Perhaps, for the first time, I really would be in charge. For once, I wouldn’t get messy.



‘How about if I take this off?’ he said, and pulled his gooey, sodden t-shirt over his head and threw it aside. He had a good body, stronger and more ripped than mine, broad-shouldered where I was slender.



‘Then I would do this,’ I said, and I turned him around, pulled open the back of his boxers and pied his bare buttocks, without looking at them. He gasped and laughed. I massaged it into his hips through the fabric of his shorts. Luke turned around and wiped his face. Moments ago he had been clean and immaculate; now he was a gooey, messy young man in sodden boxer shorts. He smiled at me.



‘My turn,’ he said, and before I had time to respond he’d picked up a pie and shoved it in my face.



I gasped with shock as the cold pie gunge forced itself up my nose, in my mouth and eyes. Then there was another. Then two more on either side. My hearing went muffled and I couldn’t see. I shook my head gently and I felt him lifting up my t-shirt.



It came off over my head and helped wipe much, but not all, of the pie gunge off my face. But sooner could I see and hear again than Luke pied my face one more time. I stumbled and slipped on the pie on the floor, and landed on my bum, spitting and blinking as the thick gungy crust stuck to my face.



Then I felt him fumbling with my jeans and I started to try to back away, still half-sitting, half-lying. He got them open and dragged them over my hips, down my legs. I felt vulnerable and alarmed. My ankles were tangled in them. I reached up to wipe my face and he yanked my jeans off, so that I was just in my briefs.



When I could see, I looked up. Luke was kneeling over me with a pie in each hand. I shook my head and started to say ‘No’ when he sandwiched my head between two pies.



I let out a muffled moan, and I felt Luke tugging at the hem of my briefs.

This was it, this was what I’d been hoping might not happen, the consummation that always happened to me whenever I got messy, and which always left me helpless and passive whenever my old master succeeded in dominating me. I squirmed on the floor, feeling my briefs slide down my buttocks, and I rolled over to crawl away when I felt another pie slam into my face. ‘MMMMLLL!’ I moaned. Then my briefs were pulled down, exposing my bum, and another pie landed on my bare ass. ‘MMMUUUIIIHHH!’ I whimpered.



I squirmed again, trying to get away, and all that happened was that my briefs were pulled off me as Luke stripped me naked for action. He pied my chest and I felt the pie falling off my face.



‘Oh please,’ I gasped, looking down at myself, naked before him already, my face hanging with pie gunge, the rest of me mostly clean and pink but totally exposed, the would-be teacher who had become the target.



‘You look gorgeous,’ he said, and he pied my naked groin. I gasped with shock as the cold goo forced its way between my thighs and over my lower belly. I stared at him, and he pied my face again. I whimpered softly, and let him push me down so that I lay on my back, and I felt him arranging himself over me – and then he said ‘Intimate contact, Alex, yeah?’



‘Under the terms,’ I mumbled, trembling, almost passive beneath him.



‘I’ve got to do it,’ he said, and I felt a gooey, slippery pole of muscle touching my lips.



This was not in the contract. Physical contact was meant to be limited to hands, but Luke had paid extra, and I was not in the mood to protest.



‘Oh God,’ I gasped as I felt his lips closing over my cock. I twitched my hips and Luke’s penis pushed into my mouth and I sucked him deliriously, eagerly.

We 69′d for a few minutes, me eagerly sucking him, urging him on, and then he pulled out of me and I sprawled naked before him. He pied my face, chest and groin and rolled me over onto my belly. I rubbed my face into the gunge on the floor and squirmed, and then as I had known deep down he wanted to do all along, he mounted my hips and I felt him pushing downwards.



This was emphatically not in the contract. This was forbidden. I couldn’t resist him, though. My arse was slippery and his cock was long and narrow. I squirmed again, and then I felt more pies being dumped on my head, and then he gasped as he pushed downwards and I felt Luke’s cock part my anus and slide up inside me.



I was just a squirming, messy naked form beneath Luke as he fucked me, holding onto my shoulders for traction and pumping deep in my asshole, and as I lifted my face out of the pile of pie crust and gunge I felt him smearing more onto my face, degrading me to his messy slave as he used my body. I was cumming helplessly onto the floor as Luke brought himself to his climax and then he came inside me, sodomising the gunge angel who had come to the house to give him his first two-person messy experience. It was one that he and I would never forget.



Luke finished squirting his semen into me as I twitched and gasped, blinded, then he pulled out of me and pushed my face into the gunge on the floor. I lay there, prone and nude, breathing heavily, letting him take in the sight of me.



‘That was amazing,’ he finally gasped. ‘Really, Alex. Fantastic.’



I just lay there. The whole thing was on video anyway – all part of the service I offered. Now me being stripped naked, pied, 69′d and fucked up my bum was also on video. And I had agreed to be paid to let it happen.



Eventually I raised myself up to find that Luke had left the room. He was showering and had left a note.



I wiped off the worst of the gunge and cautiously made my way to the bathroom. He was under the shower and he smiled at me, inviting me in.



‘I’ve never fucked a guy before,’ he said as he washed me down. ‘It was amazing. Thanks.’



‘You’re welcome,’ I said. My face was hot; I must have been scarlet with shame and exertion.



‘Do you date guys normally?’



‘No,’ I said. ‘I prefer women usually. But not when I get messy.’



‘I wonder what it’d be like to just have sex with you,’ he said. ‘In bed.’



‘Maybe I should think about offering that,’ I said, feeling myself smile coyly.



‘Maybe you should,’ he said, staring at me.



Then Luke grabbed me and kissed me, our naked bodies tight and wet together, and he pushed me up against the wall of the shower, his hands and fingers reaching down. I gasped as he got me hard, then he turned me around to face the tiled wall and I felt him smearing some gel between my buttocks.



‘No,’ I gasped, ‘Luke, please, I don’t…’



‘You did just now,’ he said.



‘Please,’ I moaned, ‘I don’t know…’



‘You do know,’ he gasped as he pulled my hips back and I felt his cock tip once again pressing between my buttocks.



‘Oh please!’ I whimpered, almost wanting him to stop, almost wanting him not to. I felt my throat tighten and he was pushing up, taking me, and then he penetrated me again and I gasped a half-sob as he began to fuck me standing up in the shower.



This time it was too soon and he didn’t come for a long time, but to my horror and shame I did, my cock in his fist dribbling out semen as he pistoned into me. Eventually, to my relief, Luke came a second time and then at last his lust seemed to be satisfied. He washed me down tenderly and wrapped me in a towelling bathrobe.



Ten minutes later, my ass still throbbing, I was damp and clean and dressed, and on my way out the door with £300 in my pocket. I made a mental note to not accept Luke as a client again, not without a more stringent contract.



And yet – some part of me had wanted it, after all. I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to wake up next to Luke. To be at all times vulnerable to his eager, insatiable tongue and hands and cock.



That night I edited the footage. It was brief, only ten minutes or so. I watched myself go from dressed and clean and calm and certain to messy and naked and moaning underneath Luke as he lay on top of me, his cock pushing in and out of my ass.



Was there any way I could use any of this for marketing purposes?



I decided not. I saved the finished file and sent it to Luke via a one-to-one file sharing website.



A week later, he booked another session with me. I did not reply.



CLIENT #2: ERIC



Hello Alex,



Please let me know how I would go about booking a ‘session’ with you. I am retired (74) and do not see many people and now that I have access to the ‘web’ I have realised that I am not alone in thinking that getting messy with pies &c. is something enjoyable. This came as a great surprise to me as I thought I was the only one who thought so.



Q.: What kind of wam do you like?



A.: I have not had a lot of experience with it but I think I would like to try pies and gunge.



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



A.: I am not very mobile or athletic, I am slowed down with arthritis and I don’t think that I would particularly like to be the person who gets mess on them as cleaning myself up would be difficult. Maybe if I were younger but if it is all right with you, I would like to see you get messy and if possible I would like to mess you up myself.



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



A.: Simply from ‘surfing’ the ‘web’.



Eric lived by himself in a flat that looked like it hadn’t changed in thirty years. It turned out that it really hadn’t. His wife had died years earlier and he’d left it the way she’d left it.



He was a tall, soft-spoken elderly man who looked like he might have been handsome once. He had a slightly gruff, distracted manner and I realised, after a while of drinking tea and making small talk, that he was embarrassed. I saw that I had to put him at his ease.



‘Eric,’ I said during a lull in the conversation, ‘do you mind if I say something?’



‘What?’ he said.



‘There’s no need to be embarrassed about any of this,’ I said, smiling. ‘I’m not.’



‘You’re younger,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to be indulging an old man who’s got silly ideas.’



‘They’re not silly,’ I said. ‘This is my job. I help people. I want to help you.’



‘Strange way of making a living,’ he said.



‘Look,’ I said, ‘I think I was about twelve when I found out that I like doing this. I didn’t realise for years that anybody else liked it. What I’m saying is that I’m here for you. If you want to make me get messy, you can.’



He looked away for a moment, then looked up at me with a strange expression. I realised that it was hopeful.



‘It’s absolutely okay,’ I said. ‘We both know why I’m here. You’ve paid the fee. You can do what you like. But if you want us to do this, I’d better start setting up.’



He froze for a moment, then he nodded.



‘Yes, yes, you’re right of course,’ he said. ‘Please do.’



I quickly set up the spare room in his flat, moving furniture aside, spreading plastic sheeting on the narrow bed and taping it to the walls, making it into a space where he could get me messy and cleaning up would be swift and total. Then I excused myself, went into the bathroom and changed into my gear: grey tee, black jeans, white briefs. I went out again and found Eric sitting on a chair, staring in a distracted way at all the pies and the two buckets I’d laid out.



‘I’m ready if you are,’ I said, smiling.



He looked up.



‘Could you take something off first?’ he asked. I nodded.



‘Of course.’



‘Your shirt and those black trousers,’ he said.



I nodded again and quickly took off my outer clothes. Feeling brave and intrepid, I stood before Eric in just my tight white briefs.



‘You’re a good-looking boy,’ he said, barely glancing at me, but for just long enough that I knew he had checked me out.



‘Thank you,’ I murmured.



‘Would you lie on the bed?’



‘Of course,’ I said, and got on the bed, lying on my back. The plastic sheets were cool beneath me. I lay back, feeling how strange it was; here I was, offering myself as a passive target for custard pies to an elderly man who was old enough to be my grandfather. I couldn’t help smiling, but I fought to suppress it because I didn’t want Eric to think that I was mocking him in any way.



I lay there for a while, in silence. I could hear sounds in the street; people talking, car stereos, traffic, birdsong. It was a nice day. Most people were taking a Saturday afternoon to hang out, meet friends, do some shopping. And here I was, sequestered in a flat with an elderly man, offering myself to him, giving up my dignity to make him happy.



Eric paced up and down along the end of the bed, looking distracted and preoccupied. I watched him. I looked at the pies and buckets; the room was full of the smell of all the cake batter I’d mixed up to make them. Everything was ready, and yet it was as if he couldn’t make a move.



That’s when I realised that he wasn’t able to feel like he could make a move. He needed me to encourage him along.



‘Eric?’ I said softly.



‘What,’ he said gruffly.



‘Would it help if I told you what to do?’



There was a long pause as he kept shuffling up and down.



‘Maybe,’ he grated.



‘Would it help if I told you what you’re allowed to do?’



He stopped and peered down at me. There I was, a young guy, lying on the spare bed in only a pair of tight white briefs. I smiled up at him, trying to look encouraging.



‘Yes,’ he said hoarsely.



‘Okay,’ I said, smiling at him. ‘You realise it’s okay to pie me?’



‘Yes,’ he said, staring at me.



‘It’s okay to pie me as much as you like,’ I added. ‘You can use all of them on me, if you want.’



‘Yes,’ he said absently, still staring at me. I held his gaze.



‘You can pie my face,’ I said. ‘You can pie my chest. Any part of me. You can pie me all over. You’ve paid for this.’



‘Yes,’ he said, still staring back at me.



‘You can ask me to…to touch myself,’ I said, feeling myself blush a little. ‘You can ask me to take these off,’ I added, pointing at my briefs. ‘Or you can take them off me yourself, if you want. You can get me totally naked and pie my whole body. You can gunge me too. You can cover me in gunge.’



‘I’d like that,’ he said wistfully. I felt myself getting hard, and was aware that a noticeable bulge was happening in my briefs.



‘You can totally cover me in gunge,’ I breathed, ‘and then . . .’



I stopped. Eric was staring at me, greedily. Technically he had only paid for the Intermediate level. He was only permitted to strip me, if he wanted, and gunge me, and touch me with his fingers. And yet, something about his hunger as he stared at me made me feel a stab of compassion. I wanted to help him. I wanted to give him something special.



‘You can use me,’ I whispered. ‘If you want to. You can do what you want to me.’



‘That’s not what we agreed,’ he said warily.



‘I know,’ I said, glad that he understood that I was crossing a boundary, ‘but I don’t care. I’d like you to feel that you can use me however you want.’



‘I’ll start,’ Eric said, suddenly drawing himself upright and picking up a pie, ‘by doing this.’ And he walked over to me and planted the pie right in my face.



I moaned quietly as he pushed the pie into my face, the gunge filling my eye sockets and my mouth, which had been open in surprise.



‘Oh god,’ I gasped. ‘Yes. That’s good.’



‘You like that?’ he said.



‘Yes please,’ I gulped, swallowing some pie gunge and spitting more out. ‘I want more.’



Another pie descended onto my face. I had to blow a hole through the pie crust in order to breathe.



‘Ooohh, yeahh,’ I moaned. ‘Please. I want more.’



And then Eric went to town on me, planting pie after pie in my face. I barely had time to catch my breath before another sweet, heavy, gooey mass of gunge and crust blanketed my face, folding itself around my head. I had to keep blowing air holes in it to breathe. I think Eric used up nearly every pie I had provided on just my face and head. He buried my face in a mountain of gunge, leaving the rest of me clean.



After a few minutes the barrage stopped, and I gasped for breath, my chest rising and falling.



‘How does that feel?’ I heard him say. I could hardly hear him. I could only imagine what I looked like, a young man lying on his spared bed, wearing only tight white briefs, my head a thick mass of pie gunge.



I sensed that he wanted to experience this through me. Maybe he didn’t really want to touch me. Maybe he wanted me to do it all to myself.



‘I can’t see,’ I murmured.



‘I know,’ he said.



‘I feel very vulnerable right now,’ I gasped. ‘I’m alone with you here . . . and . . . and you’ve blinded me. And you’ve taken away my dignity.’



‘How does it feel,’ he said, ‘to have your dignity taken away?’



‘Humiliating,’ I said.



There was a pause. I waited for what seemed a long time. Eventually I cleared some of the gunge off my ears, and I could hear Eric in the next room, pouring himself a glass of water. Then I heard him shuffle back into the room again.



‘What are you thinking now?’ he said.



‘I’m wondering what you want to happen to me next,’ I admitted.



‘You’re wondering what I think of you,’ he said. ‘A young man who allows a stranger to pay him to come to a flat and be messed up and humiliated. Why would you let anyone do this to you?’



‘I . . . I’m not sure,’ I admitted. God, it was weird having this conversation, lying there blind and with only my briefs protecting my modesty. ‘Maybe . . . I need it too.’



‘You must,’ he said. ‘Otherwise you wouldn’t do it.’



‘What would you like to happen to me now?’ I asked, humbly.



‘I’d like to see you . . . touch yourself. Inside your pants.’



I slowly reached down and slid one hand inside my briefs and touched my swollen cock, which responded immediately. I made a little sighing noise as I began to stroke myself.



‘Good,’ he said.



‘Ohhh . . . that feels so good,’ I moaned.



‘Now, stop,’ he said.



I froze. I took my hand out and waited.



‘Do it again,’ he said.



Once again I slid my hand inside my briefs and touched myself, and made a little sigh of pleasure. And once again, after a moment or so, Eric said ‘Stop.’



This went on for what seemed like an unbearable time, with me increasingly desperate to find some release but Eric determined to frustrate me, until after what must have been the fourteenth or fifteenth time, he barked ‘Stop!’ and I pulled my hands out. I heard him moving towards me and instinctively I raised my hands to protect myself – but then I felt him grab my briefs and yank them down my hips, roughly, stripping me suddenly naked. I gasped ‘Aaahhh!’ and covered myself momentarily with my hands, then I felt him slide my briefs off my ankles and move away, and I slowly and cautiously relaxed.



Now he had done it. Now I was fully naked. I was breathing rapidly, excited, nervous, tense with anticipation. The gunge was melting slowly, gradually thinning, but it was still in layers on my face and I could see nothing.



‘Now,’ he said, ‘I don’t know if you know this, but it’s possible for some men to . . . with their, their . . . manhood, to . . .’



I waited, curious as to what exactly he wanted from me.



‘It’s possible,’ he resumed, ‘for some men, to . . . to, um, do you see . . . to . . .’



I was silent, tense, my chest rising and falling, feeling how naked and vulnerable I was, feeling how electric the atmosphere was in the room. I wasn’t seriously threatened by Eric. He was bigger than me but much older and more frail. I knew that I could get past him if I had to. But whatever he wanted me to do intrigued me, and I wanted to see it through, even if I paid a psychological cost for it.



‘Do you know what I mean?’ he finally said, exasperated.



‘No, I don’t, sorry,’ I said, quietly.



‘Some men,’ he said heavily, ‘can . . . use their manhood, to . . . um . . . have sex with . . . themselves.’



‘Ahhhhhhh,’ I said quietly.



So that’s what it was.



‘I want to see you do that,’ I said.



‘I’ve never done that,’ I admitted.



‘Well, try,’ he said.



‘I don’t know if I can,’ I said.



‘So you’re not going to try?’ he said peevishly.



‘No, I’ll try, I promise,’ I said. ‘It might take a little time, though.’



‘I have time,’ he said.



And so, I set about it. I used cream from the gunge on my face to lubricate my ass and cock, and I swivelled my hips as far forward as possible to help me. I sensed that Eric was watching closely. I pulled on my cock until I was almost fully hard, and then I pushed my balls out of the way and directed the tip of my cock down between my thighs, as I’d once seen someone do in a video, until it was at least touching my anus.



After that, it was sheer gymnastics. I kept pulling on my cock to make it longer, trying to compress my hips to make the journey shorter, until I was panting and sweating with the effort, sure that it wasn’t going to work; constantly trying to find the right angle to press down so that my cock tip actually parted my anal muscle; knowing that he was watching me, all the time, watching me work hard to commit this act of auto-sodomy, and just when I was sure it wasn’t going to work, just when I was hot and sweating and ready to give up, I suddenly felt my muscles shift a little, and I seemed to have an inch or so more give — and to my astonishment, I felt my cock tip pushing into my own anus, and the sweet, invasive sensation of being buggered was flooding through me along with the urgent tightness of finding a hole to receive my own cock, and the more I went in, the more I could fit in, until I was undeniably, positively fucking myself in my own ass.



I was gasping and moaning ‘UNH! UNH! UUNH!’ at this point, almost delirious, and barely noticed as Eric pied my face yet again, and again, and then I felt my loins filling up and my cock throbbing as I came, pumping semen into my own rectum and feeling it spill out of me as I squealed ‘AAAUUUUHHHH!’, muffled by the mounded gunge on my face and head, my sweating naked body squirming and writhing as I violated myself for him.



As I sagged, limply, I felt liquid spurting onto my chest and chin, and realised that Eric had been jerking off over me.



I was limp and spent. My cock slithered out of my ass and felt aching and tight. My bum was sticky and moist. Instinctively I rolled over onto my belly, hiding my face in the mass of gunge and letting Eric see my naked back and arse.



I lay there, his helpless toy. I heard him leave the room and I must have fallen asleep, briefly, because when I woke up the flat was silent.



I got up, gingerly, wiping my face and head and ass, and I carefully cleaned up the sheeting and turned off the camera before slipping naked to the bathroom and showering. When I was clean, I dressed, packed up my stuff, put my rubbish in black plastic sacks and left the flat.



It was late afternoon. I dumped the trash in wheely bins and went shopping for my supper. I had the strangest feeling that anyone looking at this neat, nondescript young man could tell that a couple of hours earlier he had been lying naked and gunged on a bed, pushing his cock up his own rear end while under the gaze of an elderly man who was paying him to do it. But of course, nobody gave a hint.



Late that night I got an email from Eric:



‘Dear Alex,



Thank you for today’s session. It was most refreshing and very educational. I hope we can do it again soon. I appreciate the time you took to make it worthwhile and I admired your commitment.



Yours sincerely,



Eric’



I thought about how he hadn’t touched me. He had pied me and stripped me, but apart from that, it had been him telling me what to do.



I hit ‘Reply’.


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