Hello all. I had the sense to back up parts 1 to 7 of this series so I will repost them over the next day or so. The rest I have bits and pieces of, so I'll try and cobble them together and they will eventually go on here, probably in a slightly different form to the originals.




I had a fantastic time at university. I made some great friends, got a degree and, best of all, managed to get some hot girls to indulge in my WAM fantasy. One girl in particular stands out, and this is the story of how I met her and persuaded her to get messy!

It was back in 2000 that I started uni in London as a pretty clueless 18-year-old. I'm from the north of England which, if you're not familiar with it, is basically a vast expanse of cold, damp land, friendly pubs and fish and chip shops. I love it there, but I felt like I knew everybody in the little village I lived in and I had been a bit of an arsehole of a teenager, so I wanted to give myself a fresh start and go somewhere where nobody knew me, so the capital city it was.

I don't know how it works in America, but most university courses are three years long in the UK. The first year, most people live in student halls where they're thrown in with random individuals, some of whom they usually get on with and others of whom turn out to be insufferable weirdos. My first year was a blast on the whole. I spend lots of money, drank loads of booze, got very little sleep, lost my virginity to a Czech girl on her placement year whose name I can't even remember, and generally had a great, hedonistic time.

In the second year, students often move into a flat or small house with their mates. That's how it was with me anyway, and I started renting a place in South London with two lads from my course called Gary and Nick at the start of my second year in 2001.

I also changed a lot of my modules in the second year, which meant I was often put into classes with people I hadn't met before. It was then that I started noticing one particular girl, whose name I knew to be Lynzey. I found her really sexy she looked quite punky with her fine, shoulder-length hair, which was naturally reddish-brown but was usually in some way streaked with bright hair dye. She was 5'3 and pretty much always wore jeans and some kind of top with the name of a rock band on it often revealing a nice bit of cute, pierced belly. Even before I'd spoken to her, there was just something about her that made me think that she would enjoy taking a pie right in that cute, round and slightly chubby face of hers, or getting covered in gunge, and I can't quite explain what made me think that, but it made me even more interested in her.

Although I fancied her, I hadn't had much of a chance to speak to Lynzey until one lesson where she arrived a bit late, but still before the tutor. I was sitting on my own as usual as I didn't know many people in the class and most of them had already formed groups of friends. She came through the classroom door looking slightly flustered.

"OK if I sit here?" she asked, putting her bag on the desk next to mine. I hadn't noticed until then that she had a definitely northern accent possibly Lancashire or Yorkshire.

"Yeah, go ahead," I said, trying to sound welcoming but not what I actually was excited. Lynzey shuffled about in her bag, looking for her books and writing gear. It was then that I noticed she was wearing a Ramones T-shirt. In 2001, you only wore a Ramones shirt if you liked them it hadn't become a fashion statement yet.

"Hey, you like the Ramones?" I asked
"Yeah," she said, standing facing me and pulling at the bottom of her top. "I just bought this actually. And this as well."
She handed me a CD copy of the self-titled debut Ramones album. "Cool!" I said, "I like the Loco Live album, have you heard that?"

"No," she said, "I'm just getting into them."

"I'll lend it to you at next week's lesson." I said. This was going well, I'd already found something to talk to her about. We were both Northerners down south, and we both listened to punk rock.

And it went pretty well from there. We started sitting together all the time in that lesson and chatted about music and stuff. She was just getting into punk so I felt like I was educating her a bit. After a few weeks, we had to do an assignment in pairs, so it made sense for Lynzey and I to pair up. We swapped mobile numbers and started meeting up outside of lessons. I wasn't convinced that she felt much for me, but she seemed to enjoy my company at least, and she was a fun, great-looking and all-round likeable girl who I couldn't help having messy thoughts about.
One Friday evening, I sent her the following text after having a few afternoon pints:

"Hey ho let's go to the pub! Will be in the stag with my flatmates tonight if you fancy droppin in after work?"

Yes, I know, very embarrassing! But she agreed. The Stag was a run-down old pub near to the supermarket where Lynzey worked, and they did a Friday night quiz. She said she didn't finish work till 10 that night, but she'd call in when her shift was up.

The quiz had finished by the time Lynzey turned up in her supermarket uniform. Even wearing that, she looked hot. I suddenly found myself fantasising about getting her dressed like that, putting her in a shopping trolley and wheeling her over to the desserts aisle of the supermarket, then pelting her with cakes and custard.

"How did you lads get on?" Lynzey asked, snapping me out of my ridiculous fantasy. Bless her, this was hardly a dream evening for the poor girl, sat in a smoky pub in her work uniform with three pissed-up lads.

"Second last," I said, finishing my pint.

"Ah, you'd have won if I'd been here," she said as she sat down next to me.

The four of us chatted for a while and got a couple more drinks in before closing time, then Gary and Nick left. They were good mates and I think they realised I was into this girl, so wanted to give me a bit of time alone with her.

"Yeah, I think you need me in your team," Lynzey said. "I'm smarter than I look!"

"Well, you could come round to mine tomorrow and I'll set up a quiz for you," I said. My drinks had given me confidence and I just wanted to see her as often as I could, and Gary and Nick were going home for the weekend so I would have the flat to myself. "I'll even give you £5 for each question you get right."

"Cool!" she said. "I'm up for that!"

"Hang on though," I suddenly thought. "If there's a reward for right answers, shouldn't there also be a punishment for wrong ones?"

Lynzey smiled nervously. "What sort of punishment do you have in mind?"

I took a long gulp of my beer. Did I dare suggest what I was thinking? Was it the right thing to do given that it involves my fetish? She would either go along with it, which would be amazing, or she would think I was a complete creep and probably not want to talk to me ever again.

What the hell! Let's go for it!

"Well, how about this," I said calmly. "You get £5 for each correct answer, but for each wrong answer, you get a pie in the face!"

She laughed and clapped her hands. "That sounds like great fun!"

"So you're up for it?" I asked, hardly able to contain my excitement.

"Yeah, sure," she said. "I won't get any wrong, but I like a bit of tension!"

I walked Lynzey home that night and she gave me a kiss on the cheek as we got to hers. Because of the height difference between us, she had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss me, which I found kind of sexy.

"See you at 1 tomorrow, then?" she said.

"Yep! Don't forget to bring a change of clothes!" I said

"I won't," she laughed. "Not that I'll be needing them!"

--

The next morning seemed to go on forever. I spent a lot of it going round the supermarket buying things like whipped cream, cakes, pie crusts, food colouring etc. My plan was for Lynzey to get splattered with a good mixture of sweet stuff, and to keep the colours, flavours and textures interesting. I don't even want to admit how much I spent, but I knew that providing it all went to plan, it would be worth every penny.

I spent a bit of time researching questions for the quiz, then I started preparing the pies and the other little treats I had got in store for her. I took them all up to the bathroom, which was where the quiz was to take place, at about 12:50pm. Ten minutes later, bang on time, the doorbell rang and my heart leapt with nervousness and excitement. Oh my god, it was actually going to happen! She hadn't wussed out of it.

Lynzey stood at the door wearing a sexy red top, a short black skirt, red Converse trainers and ankle-length socks. "Hey Mike! I'm ready to be quizzed," she said.
"Excellent!" I said. "I've just finished setting up your interrogation chamber! Come on in!"

"Interrogation chamber!" she laughed, following me up to the bathroom. "Get ready to hand over those fivers! I've been swotting up!"

Lynzey looked around at all the pies in the bathroom and her jaw dropped. "Oh dear," she said, "a lot of pies are gonna go to waste when I get every question right." I almost got the feeling that Lynzey knew she was going to get heavily pied, but was deliberately putting on this act of being a cocky know-it-all, and somebody deserving of a dressing down.

"Well, we'll see," I said, and gestured at the bathtub. "Get into your position!"
Lynzey took off her Converses and socks and stepped into the bath, sitting on the inside ledge of it. I couldn't believe my luck she was happily going along with this. Of course, I had no intention of making this quiz fair. I would give her the money, and I had bought her a present for being a good sport too, but no way was she going to get out of here without playing stooge to a pie-in-the-face showdown.

She looked at me with a playful, open-mouthed smile, put her hands on her bare knees and tapped her purple-painted toenails against the enamel of the bath. I walked over to her, "so, let's just go over the rules, Lynzey," I said. "I'll ask you ten questions, and you get £5 for every one you get right, so there's £50 up for grabs."
"I'm gonna be rich!" she said.

"However," I continued, as I picked up a thick whipped cream pie coloured with pink food colouring. "Get one wrong, and you get one of these in your face!" I held the pie right in front of her face and waved it about. She bit her lip and gave a minxy smile.

"And if you do especially badly," I said "there's a bucket of gunge over there, and that'll get dumped on you as well!"

She pulled a mock worried face, which quickly turned into a sweet smile. "Well, I'm ready to be questioned," she said.

"Okay then," I said, still holding the pie. "Question one."

Lynzey shuffled on her seat to get comfortable and pushed back some of the hair that had fallen over her face.

"What is the capital..of Swaziland?"

"What?" Lynzey laughed. "How am I meant to know that?"

"It's general knowledge, Lynz!" I said. "I thought you'd been swotting up!"

She put her head in her hands and giggled. "I've no idea! Er, Timbuktu?"

I looked at her and sighed, as if I regretted was about to do to her. She read my expression perfectly and knew she was going to get pied. I held the pink pie in my right hand and put my left hand on the back of her head. I took one last look at her cute, clean, nervously smiling face and then pushed the pie, gently but firmly, full into her face. Pink gunge spurted out of either side of it and she gave a really sexy little giggle as I twisted and rubbed the pie all over her face, keeping my left hand at the back of her head so that she had little option but to just sit there and take it. I then slid the pie crust up into her hair and left it on the top of her head, before taking a step back and admiring the view of the gorgeous Lynzey, barefoot in my bathtub, her face dripping with pink cream and with a pie crust dumped on top of her head, still grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"I'm sure you'll be dying to know, the correct answer was Mbabane," I said.

"I'll remember that!" she laughed, as she slowly cleared the pie gunk from her eyes with her fingers.

"Well, not a great start Lynzey," I said. "Let's see if you can do better with this next question."

I picked up an old-fashioned, thick-topped custard pie and held it in front of her.

"No way is that one going in my face!" she scoffed.

"Next topic mathematics!" I announced, as Lynzey screwed up her pie-splattered face and dropped her jaw again in mock disgust. "Recite the square root of 7 to 6 decimal places."

"What the fuck?" she laughed.

"Not even a guess?" I prompted.

Lynzey just shook her head, lifted her chin up and prepared for another pie in the face. This time, I tilted her head up a bit and slammed the pie into it from above. Of course, the added bonus of this technique is that it ensures that the victim not only gets a good facial, but the tits get a healthy splattering of gooey custard as well.

Lynzey sat happily with the pie crust in her face for a few seconds before letting it fall to her lap. She grinned, licked her lips and started to laugh, but it wasn't a nervous laugh anymore it was a taunting laugh, as if she was mocking herself for getting pied. I found it really sexy.

"Mmm, custard!" she said, continuing to lick her lips. She really seemed to be enjoying this.

"OK, well you're not fairing too well so far are you, so let's do a bonus round!" I enthused. "A correct answer here gets you double the prize."

"Great, but I bet there's a catch?" she asked, continuing to lap up the custard around her mouth.

I picked up two big whipped cream pies and looked at her, with a teasing smile on my face. "Yup, double the punishment if you get it wrong!"

"OK, let's do it!" she said, dropping her shoulders and relaxing.

"Right, Lynzey," I said, holding a pie close to each side of her face ready to sandwich her, "can you tell me who won the FA Cup in 1954?"

"Oh come on!" she blurted. "You know I know nowt about football!"

"Wild guess?" I asked.

"Ummm Man United?"

I gave her a look of regret and plastered both sides of her face with the creamy pies. I rubbed them up and down, smeared them across her face and over her head as her sexy, muffled giggles came out. I admired my work as I took a look at her multicoloured blob of a head under all that thick gunge and pie crust.

"It was West Bromwich Albion, for the record. Now, next question!" I said as I looked at my cue card. "Ah, you won't know that one," I scoffed, and hit her with the next item while she was still getting her breath back from the pie sandwich. This one was not so much a pie as a big sloppy chocolate cake, and Lynzey shrieked as it went into the centre of her face. Then she began to laugh hysterically."

"Hahahaha, forget the questions, Mike. Just pie me! It feels great!" she giggled.

The words every WAMmer wants to hear! I could stop bothering with this thin disguise of a quiz and just do what I really wanted which was to pie the living daylights out of Lynzey! By the sound of things, she wanted me to do that too.

I grabbed two big buttercream pies, one coloured with yellow food colouring and the other with blue. The blue one got dumped on top of her head, and the yellow got smashed hard into her face.
Lynzey threw her head back, laughed heartily and stamped her feet in the puddle of mess gathering in the bath. Even in a WAM video, I'd never seen anyone obviously enjoy a messy session so much.

"More! Keep them coming!" she chuckled.
I raised a chocolate cream pie in my right hand and held the back of her head. This time, I pushed her head forward and plunged it into the pie as I held it horizontally in front of her. I then picked up another of the same type of pie and smushed it into the back of her head, kind of forming a strange twist on the classic pie sandwich. I rubbed the pie into the back of her head, in turn further ploughing her face into the pie in my right hand.
I gently pulled at her hair to lift her head up. "How does that feel?" I asked.
"Fantastic!" she replied, swirling her tongue round her lips. I replaced the now crumbled chocolate pie with one coloured with green food dye and dunked her face into it.

There were now four pies left. I wondered how she would react if I shoved these next two whipped cream pies into her tits. Well, everything else had gone so well this far, I decided to just go for it. Whump!
Lynzey groaned as the two runny pies splattered into her breasts. "Hahaha, tired of getting me in the face, are you?" she teased.

I wasn't, but I only had two pies left. They were both going to go in her face though. I hurled the penultimate custard pie at her already annihilated face and it splattered all over the bathroom wall. The last one was going to be a smusher, rubbed up and down and around her face.

Although the pies were done, there was still more to mess her up with. I started squirting two bottles over her head.

"Aaargh! What's that?" she screeched.

"Maple syrup," I replied. "I just thought I would top you off". Lynzey laughed again and looked up into the torrent of syrup, catching some in her mouth and swallowing it.

"It's sticky, but delicious!" she said.

"Well, that was a particular shocking quiz performance, Lynz, and as promised, you shall be punished further with a gunging!"

"I can't wait, let me have it!" she cried.

"You don't seem to have the right idea of this punishment lark!" I laughed, but I was loving her reactions. "OK, as special punishment, you have to look up as I pour this and take the gunge in the face."

"I'll do my best!" she replied.

I hoisted the big heavy bucket of thick, green cake batter above Lynzey's head and poured. She shrieked as it flowed down her hair and inside her top. As instructed, she bravely looked up and took a good YCDTOTV-style facefull of the slime. By the end, she was covered head to toe in the stuff.

"Well, have you enjoyed yourself, Lynzey?" I asked.

"That was the best fun ever!" she enthused as she cleared her eyes of the green gunk.

I decided to surprise her again but suddenly flicking on the shower. She screamed as the water hit her it was cold at first as showers always are when you first turn them on but she continued to be a great sport and sat still, accepting her soaking.

She cleared her face with the water and looked at me. "I get the feeling you're enjoying yourself too!", she said with a wink. I realised she was looking at my crotch, and the most obvious "trouser bulge" you'll ever see. I'd got that carried away, I hadn't thought of that problem at all.

"It's OK," she said, sensing my embarrassment, "I'm getting horny as well!". To my amazement, she then whipped off her top and unbuttoned her skirt. She was now getting drenched by the shower in just her underwear. I gazed in astonishment at her hot, wet, semi-naked body. She wasn't stopping there either. She looked me in the eye as she reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting her ample breasts loose. Then she slipped her hands down her knickers and slowly eased them to her feet.

"Fancy joining me?" asked the now stark naked Lynzey.

I couldn't get my kit off quick enough. Throwing my clothes all over the bathroom, I climbed naked into the bath like a man possessed.

"Woah, woah there!", said Lynzey, curbing my enthusiasm. "Keep still for one sec." As I stood at one end of the bath, she had eyed a can of whipped cream in the bathroom, and picked up one of the pie crusts I had pelted her with that had somehow remained pretty much all in one piece. She made me wait as she squirted the full can onto the crust to form a piled-high pie. I knew vaguely what was coming, but she surprised me with what she did next.

With the pie in her left hand and just out of the direction of the spray of the shower, she grabbed my erect cock with her right hand and gently pulled it so that I moved closer to her. "This is the least you deserve!" she taunted, before smashing the pie into my face. While doing that, she still had one hand around my dick and started to give me a handjob.

"Ohhhhh!" I moaned from behind the pie crust on my face. Of course, I couldn't hold it in much longer. I groaned again as I spurted my spunk right onto her left leg. She let go of my cock, wiped some of the cream off my face and stood on her tiptoes to kiss me passionately.
I decided I should return the favour. I first grabbed big handfuls of shampoo and shower gel and massaged them over her hair and body. I then turned her round so that her back was against my chest and started working her nipples with one hand while stroking her soaking wet clit with my other.

"Ohhhhh, yeahhhhhh!" she exclaimed. She collapsed to her knees as she orgasmed, then looked up into the shower to get what was left of the pie filling off her face. Amazed at what had happened, I wrapped a towel round myself and left her to finish her shower alone.

--

Back downstairs, I had scraped £50 together for Lynzey, and had also bought her a Dead Kennedys T-shirt, as I was getting her into their music. She came down looking beautiful once more you really wouldn't have known that half an hour ago she had been a green, gungy, pie-strewn mess.

"I feel like I've tricked you a bit," I admitted. "As you can probably tell, I've got a bit of a thing for pies, and a bit of a thing for you!"

Lynzey laughed. "You don't say! Even with all that pie in my face I could see you had a hard-on. Anyway, don't worry, I knew you wouldn't make the quiz fair. I just wanted to let you have some fun pieing me, because I fancy you! And you might just have woken something inside of me with all this messy stuff. I'd be well up for doing it again!"

Lynzey left my flat soon after, leaving me feeling like I must be about to wake up from a dream and that all this couldn't really have happened. But it had, and that was when my life started to become amazing.