Samantha, Sam to her friends, has always enjoyed a life of wet and messy adventures but always alone and this wasn't likely to change. However, what she did miss was the anticipation and apprehension about someone else administering the mess. She loved the old comedy films where you saw the pie and then the target who was normally an exquisitely dressed woman that couldn't possibly be about to be pied but secretly you knew she was. Then the anticipation of whether it might just glance the hat and immaculate hairstyle or hit her right in the beautifully made up face and then fall on the gown ruining it forever. She wasn't going to invite anyone to help but purely by chance she came across a company who seemed to offer technology that might help.
After extensive research and testing she was ready and given the possible outcome the apprehension was high but she was determined to carry on at least for now.
With the kitchen prepared she went and took a bath both to cleanse and relax but to prolong the whole event. After a shower to rinse she dried herself off and set about getting ready. First was the make up and it was difficult as her hands were shaking but eventually she was happy and she finished drying her long honey blonde hair leaving it loose over her shoulders.
On the bed were the clothes bags and she started with the white lace underwear comprising of lace shorts and a lace bra to match. Snipping out the high price tags she put them on and adjusted the bra straps until she was comfortable. Next came a white silk button through blouse which was on sale or return so the label stayed in as did the label in the white linen trousers which went on next. The trousers were tight at the top and held the blouse in place but flared out from the knee. Then a thin white wool jumper went over the blouse and it too retained the label on the off chance it could be returned. Finally on her feet wet a pair of new white court shoes with a moderate heel and she was ready.
Her heart was racing as she entered the kitchen and finished the set up. In the middle of the kitchen was an antique wood farm table and hanging down from the ceiling was a clear plastic pipe. The pipe was vertical to start with then from the centre of the room a gradual slope up to a plastic box. In the box was five litres of cheap cooking oil and a bag of black powder paint all mixed together. Pulling a stool under the pipe she slid the end of the pipe down inside her trousers before sitting on the stool. The liquid in the box was prevented from flowing down the pipe by a valve which could be controlled by an app. There were also a pair of handcuffs fixed to the table behind Sam also controlled by an app. Setting the timer going she quickly snapped her wrists into the handcuffs and settled back to wait. The oil might release any time between ten minutes and one hour and the handcuffs the same so all she could now do was wait.
In her mind she had decided that if the mess didn't happen she really would return the clothes for her money back but now she was in the hands of technology and she had almost what she wanted. The anticipation of the possible deluge of black oil sometime in the next hour.
The apprehension only added to the thrill and there was so much to think about as she had planned this meticulously. Would the oil actually release or would she be free before the oil released and so could stop the mess. If it released then how long would it take? What kind of mess would it make on the kitchen floor? She had purposely put all cleaning materials, mops and buckets in the garage and locked the back door from outside so the only way to the garage was out the front door in full view of the neighbours.She had also not got any spare clothes downstairs and she couldn't go upstairs to shower and change without ruining the carpets. The French doors look straight in to the kitchen so if anyone come to call she will be seen.
All these thoughts were going through her head causing panic one minute and excitement the next. After twenty-five minutes she was getting uncomfortable but also wound up to fever pitch when her phone made the sound she was listening for. It meant one of the devices was going to operate in thirty seconds. She literally held her breath for those thirty seconds and then it happened. The tank opened and she could see the black liquid making its way towards her. She squirmed in her seat as it ran slowly down because she realised even if the cuffs released now it would be too late.
Eventually the liquid reached her and made its way inside her trousers. For a few seconds she felt nothing then the liquid soaked through her knickers and over her wet pussy. Soon it started to pool in her lap as it couldn't get down the tight legs and she could see the white linen turning black.
As the trousers filled she lifted her bottom off the stool and allowed the oil to flow down her legs. It almost tickled as it ran in rivulets down her legs and into her shoes where it started to fill them. The oil also found its way to her bum where it soon filled the trousers before Sam sat back down on the now slippery stool.
It didn't take long for the trousers to fill and soon the black oil overtopped the waistband, soaked the bottom of the blouse and jumper and cascaded down to the floor where it pooled out like an oil slick.
It seemed to take ages for all the oil to flow but eventually it stopped but she still had to wait for the cuffs to release. It was ten minutes later before that happened and she shook her wrists as they were aching from the confinement. Sliding down off the stool she nearly fell as her heels slid on the oily tiles. She kicked off her heels but it wasn't much better in bare feet and she held onto the table to help her out of the pool of oil but she still had to be wary.
Realising most of her clothes were beyond saving she took the scissors from the kitchen drawer, pulled out her jumper and cut right up the front before pulling it down and off her arms like a jacket. Although the blouse would unbutton she cut up the side of the buttons and slid the blouse off as well. Putting the blade in the waistband of her trousers she had to take a couple of goes to start as the trousers were well made but once through the waistband the scissors slid down through the oil soaked linen like a knife through butter. The knickers took only a snip at each side to join the rags on the floor leaving only her bra dry and clean.
Now came the clean up but first she needed to get the materials from the garage so, wiping her feet on the mainly dry parts of her blouse and jumper she set off for the front door. She opened it slowly and checked as far as she could that the coast was clear then made her way to the garage where she gathered up all the necessary items before making her way back and in through the front door.
Taking a moment to wash her hands she carefully removed her bra and placed it safe before tackling the pool of black oil across the kitchen floor. The pipe was still dripping so she put a bucket beneath it before getting on her hands and knees she used a dustpan to scoop up the majority of the oil into the same bucket.
Once that was done she used old towels kept for messy clean ups and soaked up the rest of the oil. Then with a fresh bucket of hot soapy water she spent the next hour washing the furniture and the floor until she was reasonably satisfied. Only then did she head upstairs for a well deserved shower.