** More mess from our hapless equestrians as lockdown has them bored, but tasked to keep busy.


If I was, to be honest with you, I'm not sure why it got so out of hand. All I know was three months of COVID lockdown had driven us all a bit mad. So, there we were, before us the result of what had been months of insanity. We looked at each other nervously, this was not good Goodness knows what we were going to do next

However, to tell you how we got to where we are now, I suppose I had better take you back to those heady days when we didn't know what Covid-19 was and we had no time on our hands. You see, Sarah and I are both grooms for Hilary, an Olympic hopeful who should have been riding in the 2020 Olympics and we should have been enjoying the experience of flying, with our horses halfway around the world. We had been excited, Hilary had worked hard to qualify, we had attended so many horse shows, and training camps. Each one had been hard work for us grooms. You see, while madam would be on the horse looking amazing in white jodhpurs which looked as if they had been painted onto her divine derriere with polished riding boots on her perfectly groomed horse, we were the two who had to polish the boots, groom the horses, muck out, sweep and Well, you get it, hard work with minimal reward.

Of course, we didn't complain. We loved our work and, even more, we loved our MIstress. We both wore slave collars inscribed with her name, so, this was not just the usual business of the horse industry where the grooms worked their arses off for nothing. We would be tied and pied in the evenings and love every damn minute of it.

Sarah was a sub, a beautiful, fit and toned, blond sub. She craved abuse, and would so often be tied up and messed up. Yes, we love wet and messy play, we are so often mucky as part of our work, it changes a gal! We once let Sarah play out her dom side and she surprised us, massively. However, day by day, she is pliant, bordering on demanding of humiliation and bondage. I love her like a sister and a lover If that doesn't sound wrong.

I'm fit, brunette, tall and a bit bratty. I like to test my limits until I see Hilary start to get cross, at which point I'll drop to my knees before her in a second. I came to this party late. You see, in my previous life, I created a major app, you know the one, hell you are no doubt using it now. It allows a flow of money to pay to keep myself working every hour that God sends sweeping horse muck from stables. However, it also allows me to push the boat out when it comes to messy scenarios. So, when we get messy we go large. I've been tarred and feathered, wrestled in marshmallow fluff and worse. Why have money if you can't spend it on what and who you love.

And then the lockdown began. Suddenly, we had no shows to go to. Then the Olympics were postponed - oh we all cried that night. So there were three girls with the horses put out to grass and we had time on our hands. We got bored, then we got ratty and so it started.

We still had to do some work around the yard, so Hilary asked us. Well, she made us kneel and plead. Anyway, I digress, we had to paint the stables. Easy. We swept them out, washed them down (with buckets of water hitting all of us in warm weather water fights. Whatever people may say, wet jodhpurs look great and feel very sexy...) Then we started painting. Now, with all the stables we had to do, a brush would have been a pain. So, we borrowed a paint spraying machine. Oh God, that was destined for disaster in our hands. Loaded with gallons of thick whitewash, I 'accidentally' sprayed Sarah down her back. She'd squealed, turning around and getting a thick coat of paint down her front.

She had stood like an alabaster statue, this thick paint had obliterated her features, there was just an 'O' for her surprised mouth. Her black jodhpurs were white, as were her boots, her hair Honestly, it was an accident. Well, sort of an accident Sorry, not sorry, Sarah

She had stood there dripping, so, I had thought the time was right for a second coat. Now, please, how was I to know how quickly whitewash sets on a warm day? Before you could say, sloppy groom, she was perfectly coated. She approached me, funny it was like watching Frankenstein's monster, the paint had started to go hard so she walked with a stilted gait with her arms out. I just stood there laughing. In fact laughing so much that, as she grabbed the sprayer nozzle from my hands I didn't run

Hilary was so cross. She had come out expecting to see the insides of the stables brilliant white, and instead found the two of us, set solid, fixed grins on our faces and gallons of paint running down the floor. She had yelled at us, before leaving us to our fate.

It was some hours later that she came back, taking the time it took to remove our ruined clothes, muttering how her slaves would be the death of her.

***

The next day, We had been set another task. Now I should explain that we now had considerably shorter hair as Hilary had to use the horse clippers to remove the set paint from our hair. My shoulder-length hair was now little more than a bob, and Sarah's was a pretty short crew cut. Hilary had said, look, even you can't screw this up and set us to change the oil in our old tractor and grease all the lubrication points with the grease gun.

We were both in overalls as we realised this could get messy, but oh goodness. How messy! I was lying on a trolly beneath the tractor, there was a nut to loosen to drain the oil into a tray, then I could top it back up. I could have never done this as an app developer, but now I had learnt so many different things I felt confident to tackle mechanical tasks with ease.

Sarah had a grease gun attached to a barrel of tractor grease and was inserting it into points on the machine and pumping in gooey grease. I was thinking nothing of it as I fought the oil nut which was stuck hard when I felt something strange.

Something had been shoved into the opening of my overalls. I ignored it, I may have caught on a pipe I thought. It was only when there was a sudden rush of warm sloppy gloop which was starting to cover my crotch that I realised that Sarah had crouched beneath the tractor and put the grease gun into my overalls.

I was taken by surprise, pulling the wrench which snapped off the oil sump nut. The thick, tar-like oil suddenly burst from the hole so that I was under a duel assault with a coating of oil on the outside and a couple of gallons of grease coating my lower parts.

I slithered out from under the tractor, my overalls full and grease slopping down my legs. My head and chest were covered in the gooey oil, which was still flooding down the floor. Sarah gasped, laughing.

"Okay" I said. "How do you like it!" I grabbed the grease gun, ripping open her boiler suit. I stuffed the nozzle into her panties and pulled the trigger. There was a sudden rush of warm grease on her quim, she crossed her eyes, grabbing for me as we writhed in the pool of oil.

Our hands found each other's greasy twat's and it wasn't long before we were cumming like trains in the black mess. Sarah grabbed me, ripping off my boiler suit and pushing my face down. I felt something push against my bottom and then grease started to fill me Oh, my God I slithered and writhed. We were soon covered and filled. Kissing and exploring our bodies.

"What in the name of holy Fuck is going on here?" Hilary yelled as she found us on the floor of the barn, coated in grease, oil everywhere. She had stepped towards us, slipping on the oil. We had pounced, her white jodhpurs were soon black and her blouse ripped as we caressed and fondled her, slithering in the grease.

An hour or so later we staggered out of there spent, each needing a bath of Swafega to get rid of the oil and grease which coated our bodies. Hilary had sighed. Can you not do anything without making a mess?

We had laughed. Eventually, she had done too...

***

"I'm bloody mad letting you both do this?"

This was laying foundations for a new stable block. The builders were in lockdown, but the machines and the supplies were there. A trench had already been dug and all it needed was a layer of concrete for the foundations.

"It's simple Nothing can go wrong"

She had gone away and I had told Sarah that we had better get this right. So, we looked online. Thank you Google, we now knew how much sand and cement needed to be shovelled into the cement mixer.

It wasn't too hard to do, soon enough we had a perfect foundation. We had smoothed it off and we were impressed. Sarah had said we should sign our names in it, for history. I laughed and agreed, kneeling in front of the new sloppy concrete. I scratched my name in the grey mess and was admiring out our perfect work when Sarah bumped into me. I plunged forward, landing in the concrete sinking six inches, headfirst into the slurry-like mess.

I dragged myself up, wiping cement from my face. "What the hell Sarah!" I washed my face with the hose, she apologised having been scared by a wasp of all things. I got the float and started to flatten the smooth foundations again. Soon enough they were perfect again.

"Okay, let's go." We were in the middle of the new stables, so there were foundation trenches on each side. We had propped scaffold boards across them to cross safely. "Me first" I stepped on the board, at the same time the clumsy Sarah stood on it. "I said to let me go first!"

I fell left, she fell right. We both sunk to our hips in the concrete. We struggled but were too firmly sunk into the cement with no way to dig a way out. When Hilary turned the corner and saw us we were really looking sorry for ourselves, the concrete had set solid and we were set with it.

She had yelled abuse. We'd apologised, and she had gone to find a way to get us out. That led to the sight of one of the UK's top equestrians using a jackhammer, swearing louder than the noise of the breaking concrete. We were, eventually freed, most apologetic. Hilary was more concerned that we hadn't hurt ourselves.

***

We were on our best behaviour and were given nothing to do for a week. Enforced by Hilary chaining us up in one of the stables during the day to make sure we got up to no mischief. Sarah was in her subby element, however, I had quickly got bored and let my mind wander.

I realised that the chain would allow me enough length to reach a water bucket which had been left in the stable. If I really stretched I could place this bucket over the top of the stable door which Hilary had just left open with both the top and bottom half bolted together. So, I placed the bucket in a classic prank position. Sarah had told me not to do it, that she was mad enough with us. But I was feeling a bit bored.

We heard Hilary before she stepped into the stable, she was sorry she had left us and perhaps we could be trusted. Her words were cut short as the bucket fell. Not spilling the water in a gentle cascade, but flooring her as it hit her on her head.

I watched in horror as she slumped to the ground unconscious.

***

The minutes passed like hours. I was panicking, had we killed her. Sarah pointed out that I should say, had 'I' killed her. Thanks, chum. Thankfully she came too, sitting up and looking at us.

"Oh What's happened? Why are you here?"

I explained, but she looked lost, somewhat confused. "But who are you? Who am I?"

Oh shit! Really, amnesia? Crap. I managed to get her to unlock our chains and we went inside. She really didn't know who she was. We needed a doctor or an ambulance. I told her she was unwell, but she would have none of it. She just wanted to know why we had been chained up. I had explained that we had got messy and upset her. I was humouring her as I wanted to get her help. She just looked puzzled, could we show her what we meant?

I looked at Sarah. Okay, but then an ambulance. She smiled innocently as we walked onto the yard. I showed her the paint sprayer. She looked at it.

"What does it do?" I explained, she pulled the trigger. We were both hit with a spray of paint. "Whoops"

I told her it was okay, as I wiped my eyes. She wanted to know what else had happened. I explained about the grease gun, again she looked confused. I took her to the barn, showed her the tractor, and took the lid off the huge barrel of grease. She peered at the thick glop, seemingly confused. She pointed at the surface of the grease, halfway down the huge barrel, looking in close. I looked down. As I looked close I felt my legs being grabbed. I was flung into the half-full barrel, it was so big, I landed inside, sinking into the grease. I slithered around, looking up to see a less than dazed Hilary reattach the lid.

Sarah had stepped back into the shed, she had asked where I was and Hilary had shrugged, taking her across the yard to the building site. The foundations were set solid, but there was a covered vat of roofing tar which was ready for the new stable. Hilary had curiously lifted the lid.

"What's this?"

Sarah, having not seen what had happened to me was not ready when Hilary shoved her into the tar bath. She sank until she was completely covered, before surfacing just as Hilary slammed down the lid and locked it shut.

***

It was dark when the barrel lid was released. Hilary reached in and helped me slither out. Sarah was next, covered in tar and setting fast. A, positively not confused Hilary asked if we had learnt our lesson. We nodded very apologetically. I hadn't realised she could act.

***

Now that could have been the end of the story. Maybe it should have been. We worked hard beyond that point, there were no more accidents and Hilary was happy with our service. However, the end of the lockdown was being announced. Soon there would be horse shows and hard work and I figured that our mistress, who, let's face it, enjoys a bit of mess as much as us, had got away with nothing more than a bucket of water.

So, Sarah and I hatched a plan. My bucket over the door prank had failed, however, we had had such fun with paint, oil and grease that it seemed unfair to leave us to have all the fun. I had used my newly found mechanical skills and a few quiet evenings to rig up the barn.

So, the next day we walked Hilary through the doors. "What are you doing girls?" She had looked up at our innocent faces.

"Nothing" I had said as I stood beside her. She was in her perfect white blouse, and white jodhpurs with her polished boots, she wasn't one to muck out or get dirty, that was a groom's job. So, when the barrel tipped, pouring a slow flow of used tractor oil and grease over her perfectly groomed hair and white outfit her face had been a picture. She was rooted to the spot, her face in an 'O' as she turned from immaculate and pristine to sloppy and ruined.

I stood back, she was quivering. "Oh, Sarah I think Hilary needs greasing" Oh God, that groom lept on her boss and mistress, her jodhpurs were pulled down and the nozzle of the grease gun slid between her cheeks. Oh, the animal noises she made as the trigger was pulled. I had experienced that feeling and, wow, she was in for a hell of a ride.

We stood back. Had we had gone too far. Deliberately of course, because we were standing beside the pool of roofing tar I had set up. I knew Hilary had seen it, I saw her smile through the oil. She waddled towards us, grease leaking down her thighs.

"Now girls You don't think I can let you get away with this can I?"

"No miss," we said in unison.

She reached out with a hand on each of our chests and shoved. We fell into the tar, sinking and reemerging totally covered. Hilary stepped closer to see our demise, not realising she had dripped an amount of grease which made her slide and land face first in the tar.

We were good enough to rescue her, sitting her up in the bath of roofing tar beside us. It really had been our plan all along for some form or pratfall to make sure we all ended up in the goo. We were being kind to our mistress, the grease and oil would protect her hair and skin and she would have the easier clean down.

"What do I do with you two?"

We answered the question for her, grabbing her and wrestling together in the tar. When we eventually stepped out, knowing that we would have a difficult cleanup. Hilary smiled.

"You are devious At least you didn't use cement I suppose?"

I smiled. "There was none left. But we did have paint left over." Her foot hit the tripwire just as I said this and the vat of paint tipped covering us.

Watching the video from the hidden Go-Pro's it looked visually stunning. The black of the tar coated with the flood of whitewash. It was almost artistic.

However, you don't cross your mistress without some punishment. Sarah lives for that, she would do anything to be punished as she is the centre of attention for a while. I, well, less so, especially as I had a hell of an itchy nose, and, as I was tied next to Sarah, neck-deep in the stables muck heap, my hands useless beneath me tied together and attached to the rope which hogtied me, I guessed I would have to wait,

But, she isn't a totally evil mistress. She was very impressed with our mess. So impressed that, after hours of bathing together before she entombed us she had left us a treat. The wires which crossed the steaming heap were attached to sensors in the outdoor arena. Each time Hilary went around the arena with one of the horses it would trigger the devious toys within us. She had been riding for some hours and I was weak having cum more than I had ever done before. Thank goodness she only had four more horses to exercise