Foxy's Sloppy Screentest
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"Hi, Foxy right?"

Foxy nodded as he looked around the studio. It wasn't his real name, but a stage name made sense given where he was. The industrial unit he found himself in was weird. Three paddling pools were dotted around, one filled with thick and gloopy mud, the other two empty. A set of stocks were pushed up against the wall, next to large stacks of dirty white buckets. In the middle of the room was the large glass tank, with a stool inside and a plastic tub on top. A gunge tank.

Why the hell had he come? Why had he signed up for this audition? Why, after seeing what Splatter Shot did, did he think it was a good idea to come?

Money. He'd lost his job, his flat was expensive, and he was getting desperate. He wasn't bad looking - he was fit, had sharp features, lush if short hair, and a handsome face - and thought maybe he'd try his hand at modelling. He was desperate, looked for each and every available male modelling gig, and sent in an application to them all. Only Splatter Shot had answered.

A gunge and mess video site. This was a mistake. He should leave.

"Nice to meet you," the interviewer, a man in his mid twenties, wearing a black and grey suit, smiled. He motioned to the stool in the gunge tank. "I'm Dan. Please, take a seat."

Foxy glanced at the stool, then up at the plastic tub above it. "It's not going to"

"Don't worry. No gunge. Promise."

"Right," Foxy nodded, and climbed into the tank, taking a seat. His breath seemed to echo around the three glass walls, and it suddenly felt very real and intimidating. He looked up, half expecting a torrent of slime to hit him face on. It didn't.

"You don't mind if I film this, do you? Want to see what you're like on camera," Dan asked, and Foxy nodded. At least he wasn't camera shy. Dan flicked on a camcorder and pointed it at Foxy, plugging it into his laptop. "So, you know what we do right?"

"Yeah, I looked through the trailers you've got on your site." Foxy blushed a little. Seeing video after video of men in suits, spandex and costumes getting covered in slop had been a weird way to spend the night. Weirder still was that he'd cum twice in his watch time. "Fun stuff."

"I'm glad you think so," Dan smiled. "We need someone who's going to be all in. Up for anything. That sound like you?"

No. Of course it didn't. Nobody he'd ever met was all in on being professionally being covered in messy food; it was weird and slimy and, at a guess, the smell of those mixed up foods would be revolting. But he'd managed to find the Instagram of one of the other Splatter Shot models and had messaged him. Apparently the company paid so well that the model had used his first paycheque to put down a deposit on a house. Foxy wasn't stupid enough to turn down that sort of money, so he plastered on a smile.

"Do your worst, I can take it."

"I'm glad to hear it," Dan grinned, reaching for his laptop keyboard and pushing a button.

A loud, foreboding clunk came from above, and Foxy looked up. He saw the hatch above him open, and sat frozen as something thick, gloopy and pungent slipped through it. It fell, splattering straight onto Foxy's handsome face. He gasped as he realised what it was. Porridge; cold, thick, and stinking of ketchup. It was heavy, and Foxy could do nothing but gape as the dollop slid down his face, torturously slowly, before slipping into his lap. He looked down, gaped at Dan, then ducked his shoulders.

The first plop of the ketchup mixed porridge had come slow, but the rest rushed out. It was heavy, battering down on the top of his head. It flattened his hair, fell to his clothes, and stained the glass walls surrounding him. Foxy couldn't move for the shock, and had to allow the mess to envelop him fully. It seemed endless, and only when the deluge ended did he raise his hands to wipe his eyes clean.

"Technically it's food, not gunge," Dan met his gaze with a grin. "You said you were up for anything, right?"

"My clothes," Foxy gasped, voice muffled by the layer of slop still running down his face. "I-I have to get the train back. I can't look like this!"

"I did say to bring a change of clothes," Dan shrugged, and Foxy wished he could go back and do more than skim read the email. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can find something that'll fit you in our wardrobe."

"You can?" Foxy asked hopefully, as he wiped porridge off his head.

"Well, 'costumes" is more accurate. We keep the suits off site, so it's only singlets, speedos, jockstraps, some sexy Halloween costumes - gladiators, firemen and cavemen. Oh, and a clown suit. I'd recommend that one. It covers the most skin."

"I'm not wearing a clowns outfit in public!" Foxy snapped, flicking more porridge off his clothes. It was staining. Shit.

"We'll see," Dan laughed, picking up the camera and holding it in Foxy's direction. "Best not to dwell. Strip off."

"I'm not gonna-"

"I said strip," Dan snapped with a smile.

Foxy halted, his cock twitched to a semi hard state, and he did as he was told. Blobs of porridge fell to the tiled floor, and he threw his ruined tee shirt onto the floor in a lump. As he reached down to shuck off his jeans, a smattering of porridge fell from his head onto his chest, sliding down. It felt thicker and cooler as it ran over his nipple, and his cock twitched again. He ignored that, kicking his jeans off and standing in his boxers. Dan recorded every second of it, and Foxy shrugged awkwardly. More porridge fell.

"Boxers too, let's see that lovely cock."

"Really?"

"Our models strip, wank and sometimes fuck. Kinda needed for our content. That okay?"

He hadn't known that. The short trailers he'd watched had all been fully clothed, with the promise of more. He had expected the 'more' to be greater levels of mess, not guys jerking off while covered in custard! He pictured himself covered in that custard, Dan holding the camera steady and whispering demands, wanking like a horny idiot, and his cock sprung to full hardness in his boxers.

Dan laughed, clearly pointed the camera at the hard shaft in Foxy's boxers, and made a quiet, firm demand. "Strip naked for me, Foxy."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Yeah."

Foxy steeled himself, grabbed the waistband of his boxers, and tugged them down with a quick movement. He felt his cock bobbing in the coldness of the room, but ignored it as he stepped out of them and threw them to the side. There would be no temptation to put them back on. He looked back to Dan, who was tilting the camera up and down his body.

"Good boy." Dan praised, setting the camera back onto the tripod. "Take a blob of the porridge off the floor, and start stroking your cock with it."

"Seriously?"

"It'll be magnificent," Dan grinned, then made a show of adjusting his trousers, highlighting his own bulging cock. "Trust me."

Dan's cock was on the bigger size, and Foxy couldn't take his eye off it for a moment. Him being messed up and stripped had gotten the man hard, and Foxy felt a weird mingling sense of abject humiliation and desire. Dan had power over him, and Foxy liked it.

He reached down, grabbed a big handful of ketchup mixed porridge, and all but slapped it onto his dick. It was thick, heavy and cold. As he stroked, it felt so utterly wrong and revolting. His cock started to leak precum, and he found himself biting his lip slightly. He started off looking at the ceiling, but Dan clicked his fingers to get his attention, and he looked down to see Dan staring him down. Foxy bucked his hips, porridge running against his slit and making him moan.

"Enjoying it?" Dan teased. "You might wanna stop. We're not nearly finished, and it'll be very awkward filming if you've got post nut clarity."

"Yeah," Foxy laughed, but stroked himself a few more times. "What next?"

"Next," Dan grinned, pulling a closed box towards him. "We get you messy for real."

Foxy wanted to ask what being 'really' messy meant to Dan, because he already felt ridiculous and slimey, but Dan popped the lid of the box and started pulling out paper plates, pie crusts, large cans and an array of sauces. He sprayed foam from the cans into both plates and crusts, and Foxy watched as the foam got larger and larger over time. Once each and every one was stacked high, he covered them in a mix of strawberry and barbecue sauce.

He hefted one, and walked to Foxy. Foxy braced himself, but it didn't come. Instead, Dan placed a hand on his back and guided him back to the gunge tank. He moved his hand to Foxy's shoulder, and shoved him down.

Ass first onto the pie he'd just been holding.

Foxy whined as sauce and foam covered his toned cheeks and slid between the crack of his arse. He fidgeted, which only made the cream spread wider up his ass. He looked up at Dan, who was standing behind the camera again. Foxy knew how pitiful he must have looked, and his cock jolted yet again.

"How's that feel?"

"Awful."

"It's about to get worse," Dan laughed as he picked up two pies. "Don't worry. We'll do the face last. Let the people see your pretty face for a while longer."

"The people?" Foxy asked, looking back to the camera. Could people see him?"

"If you take the job, which I think you will, then this video will be made public," Dan laughed. "And that panicked expression is gonna make a lot of guys cum, so you're a natural." He stood over Foxy, holding two of the pies. "Jerk off as I pie you. Don't cum though. Not yet."

"Yeah, sure," Foxy rushed out, wondering why that was so thrilling to agree to. He started to jerk his cock.

"Did you just call me sir?" Dan asked through a laugh. Foxy went to claim he didn't, but Dan spoke before he could. "I like it. Call me sir for the rest of the day."

"O-okay. Sir."

"Good boy." Dan smiled then rammed the two pies into Foxy's chest, the crusts cracking and breaking. He unashamedly ran his hands over Foxy's body, rubbing the cream and crust into his pecs and stomach. Foxy's chest hair became thick and mucky, and the cream covered his torso completely.

With the next two pies, Foxy's legs were covered in the odd smelling cream, hiding his skin with their thick foam. Then two were placed under his feet, and he had to wiggle his toes as he slowly jerked off.

Next, Dan picked up the third largest pie, on a paper plate. He slowly sauntered to Foxy, who watched him with unwavering attention. Dan got on one knee in a clear spot on the floor, and held the pie tantalisingly close to Foxy's pulsing dick. He looked up with a cocky expression, and Foxy gaped at him, but didn't stop stroking his dick. Dan waited for a moment, then eventually spoke.

"Stop."

Foxy did as he was ordered, and a moment later the pie was shoved roughly against his cock and balls. He moaned and bucked up his hips, and Dan laughed. He let the paper plate drop, but took hold of Foxy's dick and gave it five torturously slow stokes. Foxy had to grab the side of the stool and clench his body not to cum.

"Fuck," Foxy whined. "I'm gonna-"

"No you're not," Dan snapped, removed his hand and stepped back. "Don't touch yourself anymore. We've got to mess up that pretty face, after all."

Foxy nodded weakly, and watched as Dan picked the two largest pies. He all but swaggered as he walked back, standing behind Foxy. Foxy looked down the lense of the camera, knowing that it would be a good shot; dammit, of all the things to be a natural at, why was it this? Why did he love the knowledge that people - horny, mess loving men - would watch his trashing as they stroked off.

Dan lowered the pies so they were just under Foxy's nose, and he winced at the smell. It was awful. He couldn't wait to have it smeared over his face, and he hated that he was so hard over that.

"Ask for them," Dan demanded.

"Please. Please," Foxy whispered. No pies came, so he spoke again. "Please shove them in my face, sir!"

Without warning, both pies were rammed either side of his head, sandwiching him between them. The revolting smelling cream went everywhere, and it felt so much thicker and heavier than he had expected it to. He heard the metal trays drop to the floor, followed by parts of the crust. He opened his mouth to breath, and wiped away two holes in the foam so he could see.

As he caught his breath, he felt Dan's hand tipping his head back so he was looking straight up. He saw the lip of a bucket, then a deluge of slop heading straight for him.

Baked beans and custard slapped down on him, sliding down his features. He froze as more and more of the mushed up gunk left the bucket to splatter all over his naked body. It ran down his foamy body, parting the cream and replacing it with the revolving mush. Dan must have reached into the bucket and gotten a handful of it, as an airborne blob of it hit his cock straight on, and he moaned and girated upwards as the beans slid down his shaft.

The bucket, now emptied over him, was plonked on his head, obscuring his view. He imagined what he must look like on camera. Covered in food and foam, his cock rigid and a bucket on his head. He looked like a fucking idiot.

He stroked his cock, and rutted into his own hand.

Dan chuckled. "We're gonna make masterpieces together, Foxy."

Foxy only groaned, but as he felt an orgasm coming, he pulled his hand away and groaned, his cock spasming in the air. Dan gave him a moment to collect himself, before instructing him to take the bucket off his head, lean back in the stool and rest his hands behind his head. He did as he was told.

Bucket after bucket was thrown at him. First, mushy peas. Then spaghetti hoops. Then rice pudding. Then mashed banana. Then blended fruit. Then thick gravy. Then tomato soup.

His body was a collage of mess, and he smelt like hell. His cock didn't once soften even slightly.

"So," Dan began, voice mischievous. "I mentioned I had plans for you cum, remember? Well, we have a fan favourite thing. The Shooter's Pie. It's pretty simple," Dan pulled out a paper plate and started to cover it with an entire can of whipped cream. "You shoot your load onto a pie, then I ram it into your face. You up for it?"

"Yes sir," Foxy agreed without thinking.

"Good boy. On all fours. Quickly."

Foxy stood up from the chair, slop falling and sliding all over him. He carefully got on all fours, and the muck started to drip down onto the floor, though most remained plastered to him. Dan placed the pie below him, and Foxy began to tug and stroke at his dick with fast inelegance. He didn't care about looking good; he just wanted to cum. Now.

He thought about the entire afternoon. Getting covered in slop. Being stripped. Being recorded. The fact he'd be taking the train home wearing a clown suit. Dans cock. The cum covered pie that's going to be shoved in his face.

It was all humiliating. He loved it.

WIth a groan, he thrust into his hand and sprayed cum into the pie. He milked every drop out of himself, body shuddering with pleasure as he humped and moaned. He clenched his eyes shut and let shudders overtake him.

The rush of horny adrenaline died away, and he suddenly felt all the mess covering him in a new way. The humiliation of his actions tripled, and yet he didn't regret it. He loved it. Panting, he shifted so that he wasn't lingering over the pie, and looked down at it. He grinned, lifted it and proffered it to Dan.

"Do it, Sir," Foxy requested, and Dan grinned.

"Good boy," He smiled.

Foxy shifted so he was on his knees, looked straight into the camera, and let the cum covered pie be shoved into his face. It tasted sweet and salty all at once, and he groaned in pleasure as Dan rubbed the pie all over his head.

The final humiliation. Cum and cream covered every part of his head, and the twisted pleasure was addictive.

Dan stepped away, let the camera run for a little while longer, before calling cut.

"You were great," Dan applauded, and Foxy ran a hand over his face so he could see properly. "I'll give you a few days to decide if you want the job, but I definitely want you. Take a few days and give me a call when you've decided. I'll show you to the shower."

"Thanks," Foxy said. "I think I know my answer. I do have a question though."

"Anything?"

"On some of the videos, there's two models playing against each other. So if I ever do one of them, I might win. The winners in the videos I watched acted all cocky. I'd have to do that, right?"

"Yes, that's what our audience likes. Can you do that?"

"Let's see."

Just as Foxy and Dan passed the large pool of mud, Foxy placed both hands onto Dan's chest, staining his suit shirt. He pushed, Dan flailed, and a large splooge filled the silence.

In the pool of thick, sloppy mud, Dan thrashed. He had been half submerged, and when he tried to get out, he slipped and fell face first back into the mess. Foxy cackled as the previously suave and suited man looked more like a swamp monster. Dan tried and failed to get out of the pool three times, mud making his long hair cling to his skull.

"My my clothes! I don't have spare clothes here!"

"You've got costumes," Foxy supplied helpfully. "But, the clown suit's mine. So you've got the speedos, jock straps, singlets and sexy costumes. And I glanced at those singlets when I came in, they're very low cut."

"I I take the bus to get here."

"Damn, that's gonna be awkward huh?" Foxy laughed, which was undermined by a blob of baked beans sliding over his lips. "So, you think I got the cocky side of the role?"

Dan sighed, then smiled through the mud. "You're perfect."

"Then I think you've got a new model," Foxy offered a hand for Dan to take. "Come on, I'll help you out."

Dan took his hand, and tugged foxy into the mud beside him. Foxy's cock sprung to life again, and he didn't give a damn.

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This was written as a request by GUNGEFOXY, who I hope enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it, so if you've got any requests you'd like me to consider writing then please leave a comment or message me. I only write content with men, and don't break any of the rules on violence, piss, and underaged content. I don't know how fast I'll be able to write them, or if I can at all, so no promises but I'm optimistic.