From chocmess@wamsat.com Thu May 29 23:27:44 1997 Path: news1.infoave.net!news-dc-10.sprintlink.net!news-dc-2.sprintlink.net!news-east.sprintlink.net!news-dc-26.sprintlink.net!news-peer.sprintlink.net!news-pull.sprintlink.net!news-in-east.sprintlink.net!news.sprintlink.net!Sprint!208.131.160.208!news.infi.net!news.infi.net!pm4-173.roanoke.infi.net!chocmess From: Shokolada Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.wet-and-messy,alt.sex.stories Subject: WAM Repost - Gunge Bondage (m/f, food, pies, sex) Date: 30 May 1997 03:27:44 GMT Organization: WAMSAT Lines: 264 Distribution: world Message-ID: <5mlhfg$9m5$2@nw003.infi.net> NNTP-Posting-Host: pm4-173.roanoke.infi.net Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit X-Newsreader: Nuntius 2.0.4_PPC X-XXMessage-ID: X-XXDate: Thu, 29 May 1997 03:29:06 GMT Xref: news1.infoave.net alt.sex.fetish.wet-and-messy:44825 alt.sex.stories:201265 Gunge Bondage, by Shokolada Linda approached the doorway with trepidation. When she'd lost the bet last night on the tennis match, Linda knew that the next night would be sexy, sticky, and a little unusual. Cameron was the first man she'd ever met who was into messy sex with pies and chocolate; while she'd learn to enjoy the goo, and even take glee in the occasional chances at turnabout, she never know for sure what he'd come up with next. She walked into the kitchen, nude. Cameron stood there in what looked like a doctor's smock, looking her over appreciatively. Nearby was a metal-and-plastic chaise lounge duct-taped to a low coffee table for height and stability. Cameron tossed her a couple of folded-plastic rectangles. "If you'll get dressed," he said with a gleam, "the examination can begin." She shuddered a bit in erotic anticipation. The clear piece unfolded into a plastic panty, which she slid through her crotch and tied in bow knots at her hips; the other was a translucent white tunic formed by cutting arm and neck holes in a kitchen trash bag. The soft plastic carressed her nipples as she slid the bag over her head; this was another of Cameron's fetishes that had turned out to be much more erotic than it had seemed at first glance. Linda hopped up on the chaise lounge without being asked, settled back and closed her eyes for a second. They opened when Cameron grabbed her wrists and looped duct tape around them, pinning them behind the lounge chair. "Hey," she yelped sudden concern in her expression. Cameron stopped suddenly, looking directly in her eyes. "You trust me, don't you?" he said softly. "You can say the word, and we'll stop." It was true. Whenever their play reached something past either one's limits, a 'safe word' stopped things immediately, and they resumed with less extreme pursuits. It had happened before, but occurred less and less now that they trusted one another more and knew each other's limits better. More than once, a previous boundary had been later passed with glee and gusto. Linda smiled at him, and lay back. She let him slide a blindfold over her eyes and bind her ankles to the footrest of the chair, then waited as he walked around her, pretending to examine her while drinking the sight of her, tied to the chair and 'clothed' in shiny, see-through plastic. She heard paper flip. "Hmm... subject maintains an almost sexual addiction to plastic garments and gunge spatterings. Hmm." Linda twitched gratefully as a hand covered her left nipple through the plastic. Both her nipples were hard now from the stimulation of the slight friction the trash bag caused. Slowly, rythmically, Cameron began to pinch and massage her nipple, and she let out a long sigh. Unexpectedly, his tongue flicked across the other one, and for a few seconds he sucked at her right breast through the plastic, then made a hole with his teeth and began suckling at her in earnest. Linda whimpered and arched her back trying to force herself farther into his mouth. Her panty was no longer clear, as a sheen of sweat misted it over her pussy. His mouth left her breast, and cool air trickled in through the hole. She heard him move slightly, and a fingertip lightly brushed her plastic-covered clitoris. That brought a moan from Linda's throat, and she started squirming in the lounge as he delicately massaged the lips of her vagina for long minutes. Finally, still with a hand on her left breast, he used the plastic panty to stroke her to a shuddering, twitching orgasm. She barely felt his hands leave her, and the paper rustle again. "I think I agree with the diagnosis. Suggested treatment... hmm... repeated exposure to subject's addiction will hopefully cause her to lose interest in the substances." "Not... bloody... likely..." Linda sighed. She heard him pick up something that rang slightly against the table, and something enter the hole over her right breast. With a whoosh, whipped cream began to spray into the trash bag. When the first can ran out, Cameron picked up another, guiding it with his free hand and continuing until a thick pillow of cream covered both breasts. A small piece of duct tape covered the hole, and he used both hands to redistribute the cream over both breasts and down her sides. "Unhhh," Linda moaned, her excitement building again. "I AM going to get you for this, you know." "Subject unresponsive. Additional treatment?" "Just try me, you bastard," she said with a smile. What followed, she could identify with practice; the waist of her plastic panty was pulled away from her stomach, and a chocolate cream pie fell from its tin to slide into her crotch. Cameron let the plastic snap back against her belly, then pulled at the back and sides of the panty so the cream and chocolate rubbed itself into her pussy. With the heel of one hand, he pushed the mixture down her crotch; raising her hips slightly, he guided the mess downand spread it across her ass, then released her. Her buns squelched into a half-inch of light brown pie. "I'm hotter than ever," Linda gasped, and weirdly, it was true! How many women did he try this on, she sometimes wondered, before he found someone who got as turned on by all this as she did? And when would she have guessed that it would? Cameron had used another piece of tape to pull the white bag tightly around her waist. She knew what was coming next, and he didn't disappoint; a wave of what could only be warm brownie batter cascaded into the neck of the trash bag. Linda couldn't picture the size of the container he was pouring it from, but with only brief pauses, the chocolate filled the bag from waist to neck, mixing here and there with whipped cream. She was covered in goo from neck to crotch, and the more she squirmed and twisted in it, the more excited she got. She wasn't alone. The blindfold was ripeed from her eyes, showing Cameron slightly wild-eyed. His hands and plastic 'doctor smock' bore cream-and-chocolate testimony, to what he'd been doing, and his penis was as hard as Chinese algebra. She looked down at bulging bags of pie, chocolate, and whipped cream covering her breasts, belly, and crotch, looked back at Cameron, and asked, "Well? What are you waiting for?" Four inches of cream pie descended on her face. He twisted the tin slightly, to work the mess in, then let it fall away. With a finger he brushed clear her eyes and nostrils; her tongue did the job of clearing her mouth. The front of the plastic panty was gone, and Cameron's face was in her crotch. He carefully but urgently cleaned her vagina and clitoris; the sensations caused her to twist around further in the gunge. When she was as clean as a tongue could manage, he looked up at her with a gleam; she cried, "Yes, damn you! Now!" and he was inside her. He didn't last long. That was okay, she was ready. With twin screams, they exchanged their love. They caught their breath. A pair of scissors freed Linda from the chair; Cameron sat down on the edge of the table. She stood up and stretched, then stopped with her arms still high. "What is it?" he asked. "Look at this," she said in a concerned tone, pointing to a chocolate streak on the skin visible below the bag. He bent to look, and she leaned forward and pulled the bag over his head.. Chocolate batter with an admixture of whipped cream doused his head and shoulders. He pulled away, and a grin split his brown face. "Bet or no bet," she said, "it's my turn next! Now c'mon... I'm ready to hit the showers." She turned away from him, wiggling her pied rear in his direction, and headed for the bathroom. His eyes lit up again, and he followed, grinning even wider. Shokolada shokolada@aol.com ----- chocmess@wamsat.com http://www.wamsat.com/chocmess/index.html WAM News needs your submissions! For more info write to: wamnews@geocities.com