Darcie Takes Her Medicine: Part 2

I said at the end of Part 1 that I was beginning to sound like Cindy and her mother Barb from our first trash the dress video (that we got paid for anyway) who were into domestic discipline. Well it may have been a lot less trouble if I'd just stripped naked in the motel room and told Jim to spank me. (I'm sorry, but that sounds sort of fun in a twisted way! Maybe spanked while covered in a thick layer of pies and slime Yes! Definitely!)

Anyway, we left the motel with what I could only assume were three extra-large coolers full of cream pies. Jim refused to tell me where we were going. I was of course still wearing my smokin' hot halter mini-dress, fishnet stockings, stiletto heels and the turquoise jewelry that matched the top of my dress that I described in Part 1. Jim had changed from what he'd worn on our date to our favorite pub, khaki slacks, Oxford shirt and slip-on loafers. He'd brought an overnight bag to the motel room with at least one change of clothes, in this case a pair of cargo shorts, a tank top and his old sneakers. Maybe it contained something for me too.

Jim was making his way south on I-35E and I soon surmised that he was heading downtown. From his choice of exits from the freeway, I was able to put together our eventual destination Fountain Place. We'd brought the girls here many times to run through the fountains that shoot up six feet out of the ground, clustered so closely that no one could ever slip through them. Being caught inside them was an instant drenching something very welcome during a hot Dallas summer. Even though it was after nine-thirty, on a hot summer Friday night, the place would be loaded with kids and families cooling off after a one hundred, five degree high that afternoon. Whatever Jim had in mind for me, he was going to do it in public, probably because my unbeknownst web cam performance had been in public.

Jim found a parking spot along the curb that was close to the plaza.

You'd better leave your phone and your wallet here, he suggested.

Could you at least tell me what you're going to do to me? I begged.

And spoil the surprise? he teased.

I was already resigned to the fact that whatever it was, it revolved around tricking me into wearing this brand new outfit that I had intended to keep for a while before letting him pie, slime and soak me to his heart's content in it. Instead it was to be totally ruined tonight and I have to say that I deserved it for my escapades with Pete and Ashley. Not simply letting them pie and slime me mind you. Jim actually thought that was funny. It was the other stuff I mentioned in Part 1 that I'm not going to rehash now. And it could have been a lot worse. There are a lot of men, and women too, who blow up and get irate at something like this from their spouse or significant other. Jim could have been the kind of guy who exploded at me and sulked for several days wanting me to beg forgiveness. Instead he made up his mind that I owed him for what I did and put together an elaborate plan to make me pay. We'd both been through this before. As soon as he was satisfied that I'd gotten what was coming to me, it would all be over.

He opened the back of the Suburban and first took out a folding luggage cart. He opened it up and placed two of the three coolers on it and secured them with bungee cords.

Can you help me with this? he asked, handing me his tripod and throwing his video camera bag over my shoulder. He left the third cooler and a cardboard box in the car and we walked through the plaza and stopped at a bench close to the fountains.

Watch this stuff; will you? Jim asked and left back toward the car with the luggage cart. In a few minutes he returned with the other cooler and the box.

All right. What are you going to do to me? I demanded playfully.

You'll find out soon enough, he said and refused to elaborate. It was obvious that I was getting wet or we wouldn't be at the fountains. I was also sure that the coolers were full of pies.

Jim took out a big sheet of plastic and placed it on the grass. Then he weighed down the corners with four big rocks that were in the box. Families who were there playing in the fountains began to notice him and point at us. I sheepishly grinned, knowing full well that I was about to become a total spectacle.

Jim let me sit there while he set up the tripod and mounted the video camera on top of it. It was one of our nice HD ones that we'd used to shoot some of our private videos and of course Olivia totally destroying her wedding gown. (We hadn't done our first two videos for money yet. They were later in July.) Then he dragged the coolers onto the plastic.

Let's see how this lines up, he said, motioning for me to come and stand on the plastic. I left my purse sitting on the bench. Aren't you forgetting something? he asked.

I sighed, rolled my eyes and threw my favorite little black patent leather club purse over my shoulder. No point in arguing. I deserved whatever he was going to do and I knew it. I walked out to the center of the plastic and Jim got his camera aligned just the way he wanted it.

Since you seem to like to be seen so much on the internet, this goes on You Tube and your Facebook page for two weeks, he quipped.

I didn't know they had a web cam! I pleaded, a little too loud. I blushed when a few in the crowd started to snicker. I'd let the cat out of the bag. If I hadn't blurted that out, people might have just thought that this was some sort of funny photo shoot or something. I'd made it clear that he was getting revenge on me. Oh well.

Jim left the camera rolling and opened one of the coolers. He brought out a pie and started for me.

A pie. Well what do you intend to do with that? I said. Hey, I may as well throw myself into the part.

He got to me and from one side so the camera could see, shoved the overstuffed pie straight into my face. He wasn't fooling around either. He went straight for the jugular and picked a big blackberry cream so there was no mistaking he intended to ruin my dress completely. I'd long since accepted that it was getting ruined anyway.

He gave the plate a couple of twists and then ran it up into my hair. He didn't need to. Whipped cream and blackberry sauce had already splattered up there from the impact with my face. So much for my teased hairdo. He gave the plate another couple of twists and I could feel the graham cracker crust being ground into my scalp.

I just got my eyes blinked clear in time to see another blackberry cream being hurled toward me. It exploded on impact with my face. I could hear the people in the crowd that was forming start to laugh over the fountains running in the background. The pie hit low and a lot of it plastered my bare cleavage and mixed itself with the turquoise baubles in my statement necklace. It started running down my front and onto the halter top of my dress. More of it slid down inside and I gasped as cold whipped cream and blackberry sauce slithered their way down between my boobs. My internal juices started to flow and soak the crotch of my boy shorts. Concern for my outfit began to vanish. Jimmy, you silly Yankee, if this is your idea of punishment, then bring it on! Momma's gonna take whatever you want to dish out!

I could hear the laughter of three particular children over the rest. I wiped my eyes clean and saw two little girls and a little boy, all about Bailey's age, who were dripping wet and giggling hysterically at the lady in the smokin' hot dress becoming increasingly covered in pie. Apparently watching my predicament was more fun than playing in the fountain. The little blond girl was in a Minnie Mouse swimsuit. The little boy was soaked in everything including his shirt, shorts, little ball cap, socks and tennis shoes. The other little girl had red hair and was barefoot wearing khaki skorts and cute little girl's sleeveless button-down top with a ruffled v-neck. However my assailant, aka my husband was nowhere in sight. All three little kids got wide-eyed about something behind me and I braced myself just before the lights went out again thanks to two chocolate cream pies sandwiched into the sides of my head and ground in for good measure by Jim.

The little kids giggled even louder. The chocolate cream dripped off all the way around my head. It landed on my bare shoulders and back. I felt it saturating the back part of the dress's halter top and even more of it running over and getting on the back of my skirt. Concern for my new outfit was completely gone now as the decadence of ruining nice clothes combined with the knowledge that I was getting trashed in the only clothes I had with me. There was a little tinge of humiliation because of people laughing, but it wasn't any worse than sitting on a dunk tank in a little black dress and I'd volunteered to do that to help Olivia come out of her shell. Besides it was kids laughing the loudest and that brought out the clown in me.

I wiped my face again and scowl/grinned at the three wet little kids who were having such a good time at my expense. I slapped both hands onto my hips, fingers forward and thumbs to the back, with them still full of the pie I'd wiped from my face and smeared even more pie into the skirt bottom of the dress. So you all think that's funny; do you? I said. Well how would you like it if he hit YOU with a pie?

None of them were a naughty girl like you were, Jim said and suddenly a purple-tinted Kool Whip pie that was out of its plate was flying toward me. I held my hands-on-hips pose for that one and then another plain white Kool Whip that plastered me and snapped my head back a little. Take it easy, Jim. You're getting me all hot and bothered in front of these kids!

The last plain white pie hit high and most of it went over the top of my head. My hair was heavy with pie filling and whipped cream and I knew that there was nothing left of my teased-out sexy hairdo, just a sodden pie-matted blob of hair. I wiped more gobs of pie from my eyes and cheeks and ran my messy hands through my hair. I can't decide which I like having my hair plastered down with better, pie or mud. Pie tastes better.

A lady walked up to Jim. Gesturing to the kids she asked, They're not causing you any trouble; are they?

Oh, no! Of course not! Jim replied. They're just watching and getting a kick out of it.

Okay, but do you mind if I ask what you're doing? she inquired. She was soaking wet too. It looked like she had a bikini on under a thin camisole tank and nylon running shorts. Water steadily dripped from the ponytail in her brown hair that was about the same color as mine. At least she wasn't one of those stiff parents who brought their kids to play in the fountains and then sat in the heat and sweated because they were afraid of what people would think if they got in the water.

Jim said, Not at all, and gesturing to me continued, She got a little rowdy and out of hand and agreed to let me decide on her punishment. This is it.

I gave a little sheepish wave and said, Don't worry. He's done worse to me and I'm still with him.

She laughed and seemed put at ease by that remark. It's a shame, but as an instant parent I had to learn quickly about how careful you have to be when your kids start talking to people in crowds.

They're cute, Jim said. Are they all yours?

He is, she said pointing at the boy. The other two are my nieces. Pointing at her niece in the skorts said, My sister forgot that I was going to bring them down here and didn't give her anything to wear in the water, and then pointing at her son said, and he just ran into the fountain before I could get him stripped down to his shorts.

It's okay, Jim said. We've got three girls at home who'd go swimming in their church dresses if we let them.

We did once, but only because their dad had already thrown me in the pond in mine! Then there was the whole wedding episode, but we've already relived that enough lately; haven't we?

The lady laughed at Jim's remark and said, Well I suppose if that's the worst trouble our kids ever give us we should count ourselves blessed. She sounded a lot like my mother.

Hey, would you mind if they helped me? Jim asked.

I guess that would be all right, she replied.

Hey, Jim began, have any of you ever hit anybody with a pie?

They all shook their heads no.

Well come here and get one, he said.

They all squealed and yelled Yay! and ran to Jim at the cooler. He handed them pies but unfortunately didn't tell them to wait for instructions. They all charged toward me.

Hey! Wait! Jim called to deaf ears.

I shrieked with laughter at their attack. The two little girls plopped their pies into the front of my skirt and the little boy, learning early apparently, ran around and smashed his right into my butt. I was dying and so was the lady. I knew I liked her.

I was going to have her bend down so you could hit her in the face with the pies, Jim explained.

Oh, said three little voices in unison. You can't teach that comedic timing.

Here's three more, now try it again, he said.

This time I stooped down, which wasn't easy in heels and this dress. Jim whispered some instructions to the kids, pointing at me. They walked over and the two girls gave me a pretty good sandwich with a banana cream and a coconut cream. Then the little boy slapped a blackberry cream into my face head on.

Jim said, That's the way! The kids stood there giggling at me while I put my hands on my hips and looked annoyed.

Well, I've just got a few more, Jim said.

Maybe you should get those, I suggested.

That's enough out of you, he declared. You're already in enough trouble.

Jim stepped forward with one pie accompanied by the kids who each had one. He slapped a runny chocolate syrup pie into the side of my head, took another one from the little boy and slapped it into the left side. The lights were out at that point but a third syrup pie from one of the little girls was smushed into the top of my head and rubbed around and the fourth plastered my face straight on. Sticky chocolate syrup was running down all sides of me. I felt it reach the hem of my dress, run down my fishnet stockings and drip onto my stiletto heels. I was one thoroughly trashed lady! And as usual I couldn't be happier about it, even if I really hadn't wanted to mess up these clothes. Why did he think this was punishment? But he did mention a Phase 2.

I was clearing my face when I heard Jim ask the kids, She's pretty messy now. Think she needs to wash off in the fountain?

Yeah! they replied in unison.

Jim picked up the tripod and reset it near the fountains shooting up from the ground. He came back to me. I just stood there grinning at him.

I'm not going to go in there on my own, I declared.

Fine, he replied and threw me over his shoulder fireman's style. That was of course what I was baiting him to do. It was about time he got in on the fun.

He didn't hesitate and started carrying me toward the fountains. NO! NO! I begged to make it look good until we got to the edge and he took me right into the fountains and didn't put me down until we got to the center. My clothes were pretty much soaked through with pie by this point, but now we were both soaking wet.

These fountains weren't exactly designed to run around in wearing high heels because there were drain grates everywhere. I had to watch where I stepped. Of course I didn't go anywhere at first but instead we just stood there while the fountains soaked Jim and rinsed the pie from me. The kids who had been hanging around us came running through laughing at my now drenched status. Jim kissed me while the water cascaded over us. It reminded me of the night he proposed.

Do you forgive me now? I asked sweetly.

Oh, I forgave you a long time ago, he said, but I'm still not done with you yet.

I snickered with water dripping from my hair, which had traded being plastered down to my head with water for its former pie-matted state. Jim led me to the edge of the spray near where the camera was setting and said, Ham it up as you come out.

I threw my arms out wide and tilted my head back slightly and walked out with my mouth hanging open in a euphoric expression. The little boy's mom was standing in the spray just on the edge getting herself wet again and laughing hysterically.

He can't be punishing you, she said. You look like you're enjoying this way too much to be getting punished.

I am, I said.

It's real hard to find something that gets under her skin, Jim admitted, but I'll keep trying.

Bring it on, Yankee, I said and tickled his side.

The kids came clamoring up around us again. It was at that moment that I noticed how the halter top of my dress was plastered to my top half like it was painted on. Jim noticed about the same time and started to snicker and point at my protruding nipples which got the kids' attention. At least the dress was opaque.

Jim! Cut it out! I said, cupping my hands over my breasts.

Oh, hell! Don't worry about it, the lady said. They've seen a lot worse at our house. His dad likes to turn the hose on me all of the time and usually when I haven't bothered to put on a bra because I'm working in the yard around home.

And I thought I was the only one who waited for that, Jim quipped.

The lady laughed out loud again. Jim! I shouted. I wouldn't love him so much if he weren't incorrigible.

I was liking her more and more. She seemed pretty low maintenance herself.

We want to wade in the other fountain! the little girl in the skorts declared. C'mon, Aunt Trish!

See? You didn't traumatize them any, she said with a giggle. Come with us! The kids had already taken the shortest distance between two points, right through the middle of the spray.

You go ahead, Jim said. I'll get the camera stuff and take the long way around.

Can I at least take my shoes off? I pleaded.

Just to cross the fountain grates, he replied. Trish snickered. Something told me she was used to taking orders like that too.

I took off my shoes and ran through the fountain with Trish in my stockings.

Jim met us on the other side. Water was running from the hem of my dress in streams from my fresh drenching. I was having a great time and was working on meeting a new friend. That was worth a little humiliation and a ruined dress, shoes and purse.

C'mon in with us! the little girl in the Minnie Mouse bathing suit yelled. The kids were splashing and submerging themselves in the sunken fountain.

You want to help me make another funny video first? Jim asked. They all came running over to the edge of the fountain. It was about twenty-four inches deep with fountains shooting up from under the surface here and there.

Jim told the kids what he wanted them to do and they ducked down in the water near the edge. He told me to sit on the side parallel to the edge with my purse over my shoulder. He got his camera and gave them the signal. They all reached up and yanked me over the side into the water. Of course I helped a little. I rolled over and went completely under. The bottom was a little slimy, but at this point I was past worrying about my clothes. Like my wedding dress, from the incident which spawned all of this, they were a sacrifice to having fun in the moment.

Up until now, I'd been able to keep water and pie out of my purse, but now it was flooded. Luckily I had left anything of value in the car. A comb is waterproof and lipstick easily replaced. I came up on my hands and knees with my hair over my face and our little group laughing hysterically. I smirked at Jim holding the camera and dunked my head over and swished my hair around before jerking it back to do a perfect hair flip. I was an expert at it now.

Trish stepped into the water and immediately became a splash target for the kids as did Jim when he set the camera down and finally got in with us. The water was just deep enough to act silly in which was perfect for me.

Jim finally decided he was done filming, at least at the fountains, and we got out and packed up the camera stuff, rolled up the plastic and threw it away and then gathered everything up where we could see it from the fountain and jumped back in.

Trish and Jim looked okay sitting in the water in what they had on, but I looked utterly ridiculous in my sexy halter dress, now stained with pie, fishnet stockings and high heels. Then again looking utterly ridiculous was something I'd spent a lot of time perfecting. Ignoring the slime on the bottom, which was undoubtedly being ground into all of our rear ends, we sat by the side and leaned against it to watch the kids play and splash each other.

What do you guys do, besides hit her with pies? Trish asked.

I train technicians for a company here, Jim said.

We're also partners in a wedding video business, I added.

Oh, do you tape ceremonies for people? Trish asked.

Not exactly, I responded. We work with a wedding photographer who finds brides who want to do 'trash the dress' or 'rock the frock' sessions after the wedding. We do extreme sessions starring the bride in slapstick comedy.

Well that makes sense! Trish said, nodding with an amused expression. You sure know how take a pie. Is there a lot of call for that?

Some, I replied. You'd be surprised how many inquiries we get after our photographer, Kellie tells the women about it. It's something no one really knows exists.

It does sound like fun, especially after watching you, Trish said. Would I have to provide my own gown?

I knew I liked her! She's considering it just by meeting us. Now that is a fearless bride!

Generally, but if you don't want to wreck your own dress, we can help you find one that is similar in a thrift store or formals outlet. We also do drown the gown videos just in the water where there is a good chance the dress will survive.

No, I'd wear my own dress, she said. I've been wondering about those ever since I first saw them on the internet, but so many seem like the photographer is trying to make fine art and would take all the fun out of it. What you do sounds like a blast! How would you mess me up?

I chuckled. What an odd way to make a business contact: Dressed like a slut sitting in a fountain after getting the heck pied out of me! We use pies, slime, like on Nickelodeon, cake, punch, mud, water; you name it. I'll give you a card and you can go to our website. There is a link to sample videos of our very first one where we literally did everything to this poor girl, caked her, pied her, threw punch on her, threw her in a lake, threw her in mud, cut her dress up and finally tore it off leaving her in her wedding lingerie before her husband threw her in the lake again.

Her husband was part of it?

I replied, Yeah, a lot of them like to be in it. They don't get to torment their wives like that without catching hell a lot of the other time. (Unless of course they're married to me, my mom, Beth, Debbie or Olivia and it sounds like eventually, Ashley)

That's not a problem around our house, Trish said chuckling. Like I said, one of his favorite pastimes is putting me in a wet t-shirt.

I bet he'd love to be part of it then, I said.

We crawled out of the water and ran through the fountains coming from the pavement one more time. With the pies gone, the coolers were lighter and we were able to get to the car in one trip. Trish followed us so I could give her one of our cards.

I'm going to check out the sample videos and I'll definitely give you a call soon, Trish said.

Climb on up in there, Jim said, gesturing to the Suburban's open lift gate. Jim had a Weathertech liner covering the back load floor.

Why can't I ride up front? I asked, knowing I was probably in for more punishment.

You're all wet, he said.

So are you.

I've got a towel to sit on.

Well give me the towel and I'll drive and you can ride back here.

Sorry, you're messy too.

No, I'm not!

Splat! Jim swept the last pie, a plain white Kool Whip out of one of the coolers and plastered me in the face in one motion. I knew he was planning something. I knew I was probably going to get pied again when he reached into the cooler. I could have ducked or batted it down, but for one thing, I'd already implied that since I was being punished tonight, he could do whatever he wanted to me and for another thing, that just wouldn't be me. When have I ever done anything other than just stand there and submit to being plastered in the face with a pie? Never.

Trish recoiled and let out a shriek followed by guttural laughter when the pie exploded in my face. I just stood there blinded with my hands on my hips shaking my head.

Yes, you are, Jim declared after a dramatic pause.

I wiped pie down my face and tossed it to the ground with a comical look of disgust while Trish continued to spasm laughing at me. I didn't care! You're supposed to laugh when somebody gets pied. It's just that usually that somebody is me. Defeated, I climbed into the Suburban's back end and sat cross-legged against the side.

God, that looks like so much fun, Trish said once she calmed down. I definitely want pies in my video.

We said goodbye to one another and I said goodbye to all of the giggling kids, elated that they got to see me pied in the face one more time. Jim drove back to the motel, making me ride the whole way in the back with pie all over me again.

We got back to the motel and Jim let me out. It's been a long time since I rode in the back of a wagon, I said.

Want to jump in the pool? Jim asked.

I'm covered in pie, I said.

There's a hose over there.

We checked out the pool, and just like the old days even though it was after ten o'clock, the gate was unlocked. We let ourselves in and Jim rinsed the pie from my face and my poor dress. The bottom was black and didn't show much, but the blue top was stained with chocolate and blackberries. A little pool chlorine wasn't going to hurt anything.

I walked over to the edge of the ten-foot deep end and turned my back to the water with my high heels teetering on the edge. I was already wet, but I might as well let him have his fun. I put my arms out to my sides and said, Go ahead. I know you want to.

Jim took no other coaxing than that to plant his hand right between my tits and give me a shove backwards, outfit, shoes, purse and all. I kept my body straight and hit the water like a board, making a huge splash. Jim jumped in behind me, but as soon as I surfaced, I swam for the ladder and climbed out just to go back to the same spot he pushed me from and dive back in.

We fooled around, kissed and groped under the water for about an hour and then sloshed our way to our room. I figured the festivities were over. I'd hang up my dress to dry. It would be damp in the morning, but dry enough to wear home even terminally stained. Meanwhile I'd sleep naked since that was how I was going to end up in bed anyway.

But that isn't what happened. Come on back and I'll wind things up with Part 3.