I finally tried actually intentionally getting messy with a few different kinds of food and, to be completely honest, I didn't enjoy it. I didn't hate it; I just didn't feel anything. Well, anything other than just plain let down after all the hype I've gotten from some of the people I've talked to on here.


DISCLAIMER: This is just a somewhat detailed account of my experience, an experience I got zero sexual gratification from and didn't find particularly fun. If you're reading this in the hopes of getting turned on or whatever, you'll probably be disappointed. Also, I ramble. A lot.


If you've talked to me or read my excessively long profile, you probably know I love watching WAM and creating WAM AI images, but I only do wetlook in real life. Beautiful dresses are my favorite the fancier and prettier I feel, the more I enjoy getting it all soaked. Most of my favorite WAM to watch/look at also involves fancy dresses, especially when the woman actually looks like she's about to go somewhere fancy or just came home from a gala or whatever. Probably about 90% of my AI stuff is princesses in tiaras and ballgowns and long, elegant gloves. I do like jeans and miniskirts and lingerie and all that other stuff too, but formalwear is my favorite.

When I get wet intentionally in real life, it's most often in the clothes I've been wearing all day, usually my work clothes: jeans, a t-shirt/polo/tank top and either barefoot because I don't want to have to wear wet steel-toed shoes the next day, or in heels because I want to feel a little fancy. When I change clothes before intentionally getting wet, I usually go fancy anywhere from a nice summer dress all the way up to my favorite old prom dress, which is literally a ballgown with a corseted top and a full, floor-length skirt.

I don't get messy intentionally, at least not for WAM purposes. I played soccer from toddler to college, and we played rain or shine, so there were times I ended up absolutely covered in mud. I was also sort of a "free-range kid." Before we moved to the city, we had a huge backyard surrounded by cornfields, with the woods and a stream being my favorite places to play. In the city, we had some places like a nature park or the space between three railroad intersections that was just left to grow wild, and I'd go to those places a lot. Getting muddy was just a by-product of having fun when I was growing up (which is crazy to think about now, in my mid-thirties, with laws to protect kids from the dangerous stuff we used to do for fun lol)

So That's my background. I'm sorry that got a little long-winded.

Where's this WAM experience, Miss Kabe22? Yeah, yeah I'm getting to it and call me Karen. I'm pretty sure I've said my name a few times on this site already, so it's not a big secret. lol

So, today was garbage day, and last night I was cleaning out my refrigerator to put the bad stuff out with the trash. I put the stuff I was going to throw away on the counter: milk, eggs, yogurt, and other some other stuff (all food that was well past its expiration date that my housemate and I bought in the hopes of eating healthier, but kept buying fast food or other less-healthy stuff that we liked better).

As I was looking at the lineup on the counter, I realized it looked kinda like some of the spreads I've seen on here in the first picture or two of WAM scenes, and that got me thinking. All of this stuff was going in the trash anyway, and I keep telling people on here that I'll try getting messy someday, so why not today?

I couldn't do it in what I was wearing, though. I really like those pajama bottoms. So, if I was going to get messy, I was going to do it right! I wasn't about to ruin one of my favorite dresses though, so it took me a while to pick an outfit. I finally settled on a sparkly black party dress I'd bought secondhand about ten years ago, wore once, and hadn't touched since because the previous owner had shortened the shoulder straps so they dug into my shoulders and the neckline sat too high. As a result, the dress gave me great cleavage with my smaller boobs until you notice the dress is pushing them up at a weird angle. If I crop pictures of me in it just below the neckline, I look hot! But if you see my full torso in that dress, I look like I belong in a People of Walmart slideshow. So that's why I never wore it again, and why I was fine with most likely ruining it.

It's a really pretty dress, it was just altered to fit someone with a completely different body type than mine. It was some kind of stretchy, smooth material (the tag was gone), all black with silver sparkles all over it. It had spaghetti straps and a bit of a deeper sweetheart neckline, was tight down to the waist where it flared out a little, and the skirt reached a little past mid-thigh on me.

I couldn't stop with just the dress though. I got out the long black satin gloves with a little hole in the wrist where I'd snagged it on a tree branch during a photoshoot with my roommate (fyi I've lived with her since college, so even though we haven't shared a room in over a decade, I still call her my roommate. "housemate" just sounds old and stuffy lol). The gloves reach up just past my elbow, my favorite length because it feels so elegant.

I also put on some black lacy panties and a pair of stockings with a small run in one of them I wasn't wasting a good pair on this! I added a silver necklace with a small fake diamond pendant and a matching silver tennis bracelet, and a pair of sparkly diamond drop earrings (also fake).

Then I had a very difficult choice to make: which heels to sacrifice? I finally settled on a pair of sparkly silver open-toe stilettos to match the jewelry. I love them, but they weren't particularly expensive and I haven't worn them outside the house in a couple years.

My hair is always an unruly mess of long brown curls, but I did a sort of partial updo, one of the few styles that is quick and easy with my curls but still looks cute. If the dress had fit better and I were ten years younger, I could have fit right in at a nightclub by the time I was ready. I was feeling really good despite the dress' awkward fit and was really looking forward to the "fun" part coming up next.

I texted my roommate to make sure she was still at her parents' house and wouldn't be home tonight, then gathered up the milk, eggs, yogurt, and I forget what else orange juice, maybe? I grabbed the pancake syrup, chocolate syrup, and spray whipped cream too, because I was curious what they'd feel like. I took all of that up to the bathroom and set it all on the edge of the tub, on the soap shelf, and on the little metal racks we normally keep our shampoo and stuff on.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror looking all pretty and put together, then stepped into the bathtub in those heels, something I fortunately have lots of practice with, because I'm short and the heels catch on the edge of the tub if I'm not being careful. My knees have been bruised many times as a result of overeagerness in heels and I didn't want to do that again.

Normally, I'd close the shower door and turn on the water and I almost did that from muscle memory, but I wanted to be able to see myself in the mirror. The first thing I grabbed was the milk, since it was the closest to plain wetlook so I could ease myself into it. I didn't want to get anything in my hair just yet, so I poured it over the neckline of the dress. I hadn't noticed the jug being cold because I was wearing the gloves, so when I started pouring, I literally shrieked and dropped the milk jug. The jug split open and splashed milk all over my pretty shoes, the tub, up the wall, and even out onto the shower rug, so that was that. Cold boobs, cold feet, and a big mess without much WAM to show for it. It was pretty funny though, in hindsight.

Next, I went for the orange juice or mango or whatever kind of yellowy-orange juice that was. This time I was much more timid with the pouring as I did what I'd meant to do with the milk, but slower and with clenched teeth against the cold. Once I got past the cold, it did feel kind of good, like my normal wet-clothed showers until I started using my other gloved hand to rub it along the dress as I finished pouring. Then it just felt weird. Kinda like I'd covered myself in sunscreen and was sweating through it. And it was a little sticky too. I just didn't like it. I honestly wish I hadn't used that, because that was now the baseline under everything that would come afterward.

Next, I picked up one of the yogurt containers and sat down on the edge of the tub to put it on my legs. I very quickly realized that the combination of wet gloves and peel-off lids was going to be a problem, but I was committed to the gloves. I finally managed to remove the lid with my teeth, but also dropped a big glop of yogurt on my chest and wasn't ready for it. I managed to keep it to a small yelp this time, and couldn't help laughing as I watched it slide down my bare skin, between my boobs and into the front of the dress, leaving a pale pink trail as it went. It actually didn't feel so bad, so of course I had to do more.

I poured some of the yogurt a few inches to the left, curious where gravity would take it. Unlike in the movies with the big-breasted women, where it runs around the inside and into the cleavage, it just slid straight down, paused for a moment at the neckline of the dress, then slipped over and down the dress. The milk and juice hadn't left any color behind, just wetness, so the yogurt streak was the first mark on the dress, and I really liked the contrast.

I finished that carton with a couple more pours and shakes, leaving a couple streaks down the front of the dress. I repeated the process with another carton, then a third, eventually getting my stockings involved as well. To be honest, I actually did like using the yogurt, especially once I started rubbing it in with my gloves. I liked that smooth, slick feeling. It wasn't sexually stimulating or anything like that, like I feel when I get wet in a pretty dress, but I liked the texture.

Once I was out of yogurt, I moved on to the pancake syrup. I debated putting it in my hair, but couldn't remember what people had said about potential damage or difficulty to wash it out, so I chickened out and poured in on my gloved arm, my bare shoulder, and the dress. I wasn't really impressed, so I saved the rest to put back in the fridge.

Next the chocolate syrup. My whole outfit was messy already except the one thing it would potentially stain and ruin: my gorgeous, sparkly heels. So after some contemplation, I gave in and started pouring it on my beautiful shoes. I admit, this did stir some fetish-y feelings, but because of how it looked, not how it felt. I REALLY have a thing for watching fancy heels get wet or messy, and this was amazing! Unfortunately, the chocolate sauce was more than half-gone, so this didn't last long, but I really loved how it looked.

I went for the whipped cream next, but when I popped the cover off, the can slipped out of my syrupy fingers and landed on the spray nozzle, snapping it off. So much for that. :/ There wasn't much in there anyways, but that was the one thing I'd actually been looking forward to.

Now, all that was left was the half-dozen eggs. I hadn't touched my hair yet and I've heard many times that raw egg is actually good for the hair, so I figured even if I don't enjoy it, maybe my hair will. I grabbed the first egg, cracked it on the side of the tub, then held it over my head to break it open. As it turns out, that's not super simple in slimy satin gloves. I mean, the egg breaks open easily enough, but more by mashing the shell than by pulling the pieces apart. The egg glooped out onto my head and the yolk immediately slipped over and through my curls, onto my shoulder, and down my arm. It was kinda funny, but more for the surprised look on my face in the mirror than anything else.

I tried again, more carefully this time, with pretty much the same effect. I now had two trails of clear egg white in my hair, but that was it. With the third egg, I tried to open the egg one-handed like chefs do on TV so I could use the other hand to catch the yolk in my hair. I managed to crunch the shell in my hand, dropping a lot of pieces of egg shell along with the yolk into my hair. I did manage to catch it, but realized I didn't know what to do next. I just smooshed the yolk against my head and immediately regretted it. I didn't like the feeling of egg in my hair at all, especially with the pieces of shell.

By this point, I was done. I didn't want to try anymore, so I put all the jugs, cartons, bottles, and everything else out next to the tub, closed the shower door, and started to shower everything off. The shoulder straps of the dress were really digging into my skin, so I tried to adjust one, then stretch it out. The moment I heard it tear, I actually felt a sense of relief. I yanked harder, tearing the strap loose, and that side of the dress sagged down to a more comfortable position. I repeated the process with the other shoulder strap and immediately felt so much better. My boobs were back where they should be, the pain in my shoulders was gone, and the dress was tight enough that it stayed like that.

I wasn't done with it though. Ripping off the straps had felt good, and not just because it made the dress more comfortable. It was kinda cathartic after the disappointing attempt at WAM. I grabbed the skirt and pulled it in opposite directions as hard as I could and was rewarded with a satisfying RIIIIIIP sound. I did it again and again, enjoying it each time, then decided it was time to finish off the dress. I grabbed the neckline with both hands and pulled it apart. Nothing happened the first try, so I tried again. Some stitching popped this time, and with the third pull, it tore down the middle of the dress' front. I readjusted my grip and pulled again, this time finally tearing what was left of the dress away from my body. I dropped it and it landed with a satisfying splat on the tub floor.

Then I noticed the hole in the wrist of the glove and stuck my finger in it. I bent the finger, then pulled and the hole got big enough for two fingers. This time I pulled it away, tearing the hole a lot bigger. I continued the rip up the arm until I'd ripped it off my super strong bicep. Now the whole glove was just hanging by the glove part, so I tore into the palm, then pulled off what was left. I was really enjoying this! I repeated the process with the other glove, using the broken nozzle of the spray can to snag a hole to get started.

The stockings were goners too, so I tore them apart. The little strings from all the ripped fabric was all over the shower and starting to go down the drain, so I quickly gathered everything up and dropped the tattered stuff onto the floor to take care of later after my shower.

Amazingly, the heels actually survived without anything noticeable, aside from some chocolate stains inside the shoes. But when I'm wearing them, you'd never know they'd been covered in chocolate sauce.


So, my final assessment: The yogurt was ok. Not something I particularly want to repeat, but it wasn't horrible. And if I'm being completely honest, the yogurt running down the dress was a bit visually stimulating, as were the messy shoes. But all the rest was just unsatisfying, I guess. I enjoyed the ripping way more than the messing. None of the messy sensations were particularly pleasurable for me.

And no, I'm not going to start ripping up my dresses. I can't afford to make a habit of that, and besides, I like my other dresses too much to do that. This was a one-off occurrence as a result of the discomfort of a dress I never should have bought in the first place.

It's possible that I might get another pair or two of my heels messy, but probably not too likely. I prefer to stick to just water.