Yeah, seriously. I have occasional anxiety dreams that the kink police are going to make a how-clean-is-your-housecall.

Marion.

"Why do you have a baby pool filled with clay, Ma'am?"
"Uh, you see, I've heard that mud baths are good for the skin?"
"Oh, I see."

Trying to explain why there are loads of dents in the bath is a bitch there's always something you miss no matter how hard you try

Two day later struggling to explain why there is some baked beans and spaghetti stuck inside the plug on a chain you left on the side of the bath and forgot about queue awkwardness. (true story)

It's a legit concern; Ever pause to think just what in the blue Jesus you'd do of you were mid-session of a full on gungefest in your apartment, and the fire alarm went off? Yikes.

Well, I never had before, but now that you've put it in my head...

"I heard that the hallway was on fire, so the only escape route was through my kitchen cupboard..."

I'm lmao everyone. So glad I'm not the only one with a few paranoid fantasies jumbled in with all the sticky ones.

I once spent an agonising hour making small talk and cups of tea for the friendly, but confused, plumber who was trying to discover why kitchen waste appeared to be coming up through the bath plug...

Years later it remains a family mystery, because he never did find a misconnected pipe, lol.

Thank god I don't live in an apartment anymore, a communal fire-alarm is a truly awful thought.

Marion

Only the best 'Inspect-hers' are assigned to the Serious Slime Squad. Marion you need to soak that shower curtain in a bucket of weak bleach NOW! Or take it outside and burn it! :ahahah:

A couple of times I've poured custard down my boxers while out driving (don't know if anyone else does that...?) just for the thrill of it. It's a great feeling sitting in your car while all the custard squelches around inside But then I think - what if I got into an accident? Imagine having a car crash, being taken to the hospital and then the doctors go "wait, what's this in his underwear...?"

I try to drive more carefully once I think of that!

I honestly just think, 'so what, fuck it'.

It's just fun with food!! You're not breaking the law or hurting humanity!! Calm the fuck down and pie yourself in the face! So what if you're caught with beans in your knickers, you don't have to explain how you murdered your neighbours child and his pet rabbit. None of you are evil as far as I know, just stop worrying! You are all pretty much good, caring people. No ones going to throw you in jail for getting messy, so enjoy it and stop feeling guilty for enjoying something!!

Rant over. Howver, I'm scared of banana's. But I'm not alone, Shay Hendrix is also terrified of them. Just goes to show, no matter how weird we worry we are, we are never alone!!!

Jessie xx
www.messy-jessie.com

I used to be a lot worse - for ages I was convinced that having this fetish meant there was something wrong with me, and that I should try to get rid of it or at least suppress it. It was this site, the people here and a couple of close friends who finally convinced me otherwise. Now I'm no longer ashamed of it, I can enjoy indulging in it and it's taught me that there's no such thing as 'normal' and we shouldn't be afraid of who we are.

I still don't share it openly with anyone and everyone, and I guess that's because I don't feel it's something they need to know. I don't really want to hear intimate details of the sex lives of my housemates or what kind of porn turns them on, so in return there's no reason for them to know that I get my kicks from filling my pants with cake batter. For the few people that I have got to that level of intimacy with - yes, I tell them. And they've been cool with it, even if they don't understand.

As long as we're happy, and comfortable with ourselves, then I think we're doing alright.

I am way too paranoid to do something like that. I keep my kinky life inside my home, that way the only person who makes fun of me about it is my husband!

Edited to add: Now that I think about it there have been times when I am sinking in mud on camera and I am worried someone might come by. In that case having someone filming you makes for a good excuse. You can just say it's a school film project or an independent horror movie.

Apologies for making light of your anxiety but that is the most adorable thing I have seen all week and I've been looking at plenty of gifs.
If its any consolation I am pretty sure the kink police ignore most of their leads. They only care for juicy targets. So you will probably be safe as long as you don't consider running for office or become a reality TV star.

That should be your signature Jessie! lol! & UMD's motto.

This is a creative take on the "if walls could talk theme".

Interesting that your forensic lights look like footlights. Makes me want to hang your curtain in an art gallery. Hope that's not too embarrassing

I'm by no means ashamed or hiding but for an easy life it's just easier sometimes to not go there save us both time what people don't know can't hurt or concern them

You are all fucking wonderful .

If I manage to turn all of my worries into jokes instead, I'm going to free-up a lot of bonus time. Fortunately I have several rewarding hobbies.

See you next week

Marion

Yup. One of us slipping on slime and the other needing to call an ambulance is a scenario that's crossed my mind from time to time. I think ambulance crews have seen much worse, but the embarrassment would be all the greater since I work at the hospital they'd be taking us to!

Mind you, I'm sure I'd live it down eventually. Indeed, I suspect a lot of people would actually be quite jealous. One of the strange things about what we do is that, because its something we rarely tell our friends about, we have no idea how common it is. For all I know, whenever I see someone scratching their ear, they're secretly getting a bit of mud out of it, hoping I don't notice!

That thought has crossed my mind too. I made a risk-assessment (really).

Subsequently, I consider an adrenaline pen a useful sploshing accessory. Because total-body coverage would be an appalling circumstance in which to discover a food allergy, right everyone?

Some years ago I wrote a story which opened with the words:
It was in the summer of 2001 and we were in the kitchen at home, it was mid-afternoon, my husband had just poured something sticky over me, when the kitchen door opened and my mother stepped inside.