Summary: Used to abusing his authority, a disgraced security guard at a television studio suffers a humiliating gunging, only to find a second chance after all.

Author's Note: This is a spin-off story to Kiwimayotte's "The Rose of Deceit" series, and Rufus and all other canon characters are his property, used with permission. My OC, Cheyenne, is a new character created for this spin-off that anyone is free to use in his or her own writing if they'd like.

Sincere thanks to Kiwimayotte for allowing me to use Rufus for this story. After reading his scene in "The Rose of Deceit," my immediate reaction was, "wow, this guy's a surly, trashy jerk with seemingly no redeeming qualities. He definitely needs his own multi-chapter redemption story, complete with a romantic interest because TWU WUV!"

...Though it did become an intriguing challenge to write the guy in-character but have him gradually reveal the (misguided) reasons behind some of his past actions.

Warning for humiliation, swearing and moderate adult content, and in continuity with the original work, mess involving manure (or more specifically, the cleanup afterward.) This chapter is actually "WAM-lite," though the next chapter will make up for it.

Opinions expressed by the characters in this story are not necessarily those of the author.

*****

"Curse it, Rufus, what the hell did they do to you?" Pushing a janitorial cart past the checkpoint that marked the television studio's "restricted area," Cheyenne did a double-take at the sight of the resident security guard, who was sullenly seated on a wooden crate by his usual station, thoroughly slopped with a putrid substance that had assaulted her nostrils the moment she'd stepped into the corridor.

"You've got to be sh*tting me, they gunged you?" she asked in disbelief, dropping lower to crouch beside him when he only answered with a hopeless shrug. Recognizing the brown sludge covering him as the cow manure that the hosts of the studio's hit game show delighted in unleashing upon their unluckiest contestants, she found it incredible that anyone would have extended the mistreatment to an employee charged with maintaining public safety for those on the set. Then again, although she had a soft spot for him, Rufus did have a certain talent for rubbing people the wrong way and abusing his authority, so it wasn't impossible to imagine he may have crossed the line with someone who had taken it personally and singled him out for some messy revenge.

Though the young officer diligently remained at his post out of sheer necessity, he glumly rested his chin on one hand in defeat, clearly hating the rest of the world even more than usual at that particular moment in time. After several uncomfortable moments the flicker of a smile appeared, almost involuntarily, at the corner of his mouth.

"Actually, it was me they were sh*tting," he admitted, referring to her admittedly crude way of asking what misfortune had befallen him. "I dunno, maybe I had it coming." Rufus looked sharply away from the young woman peering up at him with a look of genuine concern etching her features and took sudden interest in the floor beneath his filthy boots.

"I heard some chatter about it while mopping up the hallway," Cheyenne offered, swatting her long brown hair back over her shoulder. "Something about you flirting with one of the contestants?"

"Guilty as charged," Rufus admitted, swiping another handful of muck from the front of his uniform shirt and casting it to the floor. "You can guess how that worked out, but it's nice to know everyone and his brother is talking about it."

"Lemme guess, you tried to offer backstage admittance in exchange for a kiss?" Cheyenne asked in concern, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "I thought that was a joke we had just between us." Indeed, Rufus's fellow employee, charged with working behind the scenes just as he had been, had quite enjoyed their witty exchanges over the past several months. He knew little about the brassy American, close to his own age, beyond the workplace rumors that she had fled a failed engagement to spend the summer with her cousin and had secured the proper work permits and hastily applied for the first source of income available to someone with her minimal credentials.

You want a kiss to pass by, Mister Security? Okay, kiss this! If his current situation hadn't been so dire, Rufus would have laughed at the memory of Cheyenne's initial reaction to his proposition soon after she had been hired. When first met with his offer -- which had sounded ridiculous, in retrospect -- she had bent over, pointing to the seat of her blue jeans and openly inviting him exactly where to land his kiss, and he had been so amused he'd let her through with little more than a casual wave of his hand.

At first dismissing her as a fellow jokester, Rufus had nonetheless been caught off guard later the same day when she'd brought the cart through a second time after the show had been taped to clean the women's backstage dressing rooms. Jestfully reminding her of the requirement needed to pass through the checkpoint, she had shrugged and said she didn't know him well enough yet for a kiss, then had warmly caught him up in a sincere hug, telling him she hoped that would do for now.

She said she didn't know me well enough yet, he'd been left thinking that day, dreamingly watching her turn the corner toward the dressing rooms. Yet. Surely that implied she wasn't opposed to the idea of someday kissing him unironically; maybe she was even looking forward to it. The sudden embrace he had found himself sharing had come so unexpectedly and had been so welcome he hadn't even gathered his wits to push it a little further and caress her.

"But someone really gunged you over this?" Cheyenne inquired, pulling him out of his reverie. "That's bullsh*t." To her surprise, Rufus threw back his head and laughed bitterly.

"Exactly," he confirmed, gesturing to the pitiful condition of his clothing before he found his filthy hand seized.

"C'mon, regardless of what led to this, you never deserved that, and I bet you'd feel a lot better if you'd get cleaned up," she said, only cringing slightly at the foul manure now coating her hand. Grinning deviously, she gestured to the large ring of keys hanging from his belt. "We could use the women's showers; they're done filming for the day and nobody would ever know."

*****

After leading Rufus to the nearest shower stall inside the dressing rooms, its walls done up in opaque dark green glass like the others, Cheyenne set to her usual work, retrieving carelessly-discarded outfits that had once been beautiful but had now been cast to the floor of the shower room, stained and unrecognizable.

"Such a shame," she muttered, holding up a dripping gown that had potential for salvage and wringing it out, spatters of porridge landing on the tiled floor by her feet. The garment surely had cost more than she was likely to make in a week, and deciding it was worth the effort, she dropped it into a plastic bin along with the towels provided for the contestants, intending to take the entire lot to the in-house laundromat.

"Hey, how about tossing those clothes over the door and I'll get them in the wash?" she offered, rapping on the door to the shower stall with a knuckle. "I could find you something else to wear from the men's changing room." She bit her lip as Rufus, still fully clothed and only represented as a vague form behind the textured glass, stepped back from the spray of the shower and peeled off his uniform shirt.

"Ugh!" The security guard was startled to hear Cheyenne's muffled cry of disgust the moment he threw the soaked and still-contaminated shirt over the top of the shower stall, and in alarm he flung the door open.

"Oh, no!" he exclaimed, watching her peeling the garment from her face and shoulders where it had heavily landed. Her drenched hair hung limply, rivulets of discolored water ran over her face and arms, and her thin cotton uniform blouse had already been soaked through in places, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the red bra she wore beneath.

"I guess I should have stepped out of the way or had slightly better reflexes, huh?" she asked, flashing him a weak smile and letting the shirt drop to the ground. "'S'okay, it's not your fault and this is nothing compared to what they unleashed on you, but now both of us need a shower. Cow manure is not my look." To her surprise, Rufus returned her smile with a rakish grin of his own.

"Then come on in," he offered, extending his hand. "There's room enough for two." His heart thrilled when she didn't hesitate, but slipped out of her shoes and stepped in beside him in the tiny glass cubicle, already halfway under the spray of the water.

"No kiss required for admittance?" she asked wryly.

*****

"May I?" Rufus finally found the courage to ask, his hands already fumbling for the buttons on her blouse. Receiving an affirming nod in response, he gently slid each button open, his heart pounding as Cheyenne's soaked bra revealed itself, then, still remarkably keeping his ministrations nothing but gentlemanly, he eased the garment off her shoulders, sending it down to the floor of the shower where his socks and boots already rested.

His brief relationship with his ex, Felicia, had never progressed to this point, and he had no experience undressing a woman, but from the message Cheyenne was sending, he was hardly doing wrong. Emboldened, he opened the clasp on her uniform slacks, letting them slide to the floor, and she obligingly stepped out of them and kicked them with one foot toward the other shed clothing, now clad only in a charmingly mismatched set of undergarments.

"You're...really beautiful," the officer breathed, his hands nonthreateningly around her waist and willing himself to keep his eyes locked on hers instead of letting them stray elsewhere. Don't mess this up by taking it too far, he scolded himself. You actually have a chance with this!

"Thanks," she laughed, a lot more shyly than she had ever sounded when fully dressed. "And you clean up rather nice yourself. There's a really good-looking guy under all that muck." Reaching up only slightly since they were close in height, she ran a hand through his drenched hair, making him glad he had seen to that first, using three shampoo treatments before he'd been satisfied it qualified as clean. At once embarrassed, she took sudden interest in a stained spot that had soaked through to her bra, reaching for a bottle of body wash and trying to rub a dab of it into the fabric while Rufus watched, transfixed.

"I never got the whole appeal of this, did you?" he asked, suddenly appearing deep in thought while trying not to stare so conspicuously. "I mean, I won't deny it's beyond hot to see these game show girls passing by my station covered in mess and what I wouldn't give to dish it out myself on someone willing, but beyond that, what's the big draw?" Cheyenne looked up from her attempt to salvage her bra, then her gaze flitted to the large bottle of luxury body wash in her hand.

"I've been wondering that myself, and maybe I just don't get it, either," she admitted, her face lighting up with a mischievous grin. "But while I can't imagine your cow manure misadventure was much fun nor any great turn-on, let's see what this is all about. I've been dying to know, so, well, gunge me!" She handed the guard the bottle, then dropped to her knees by the floor drain, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

I can't... Rufus's willpower didn't last long and his hands were already working to twist the cap off the bottle. No, it's more like I can't believe my incredible good luck for a change, he inwardly rejoiced. "This looks like the expensive salon stuff," he said with approval as he started to tilt the container, Cheyenne closing her eyes in anticipation. "Think they'll miss it?"

"I doubt it, and there's probably more in the supply cabinet," she said, wincing slightly as the gel began oozing over her forehead and down toward her chest, where it remained tantalizingly captured in the shelf of her bra over her cleavage, bubbling a little under the spray of the water, before seeping through the fabric and making its way down her stomach in multiple soapy trails, en route to her panties.

Completely unaware of the effect being allowed to gunge her was having on her shower companion, Cheyenne continued, flippantly adding, "Besides, it's their own fault for filthing you up. You're not really such a bad guy at all, despite your reputation."

"Are you sure about that?" Rufus lightly taunted as she ran a hand through her slippery hair, not yet giving an indication, verbal or otherwise, as to whether she had found any thrill in being slimed with soap. At any rate, the highly fragrant lavender scent of the gel had mostly overpowered the vile stench from the cow dung, which still clung stubbornly in patches to the fabric of his uniform slacks. "You look like the type who might go for bad boys." He looked down at the frothy suds, now nearly reaching their knees, that had resulted from vastly overusing the body wash in a small shower stall.

The next few events were a whirlwind, with Cheyenne playfully stepping towards him, only to have her feet go out from under her, thanks to the thick puddle of shower gel that had collected unseen at her feet below the thick cloud of soap bubbles. With the lightning-fast reflexes that had served him so well as a security guard kicking in, Rufus caught her around the upper torso before she could finish her descent to the floor, and for a moment they stood there as if caught in time, her back to his chest, him still holding her tightly enough that he could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage under his arms.

"Good save," she finally gasped, still alarmed at her near-miss and craning her neck around to catch a glimpse of her rescuer. When he finally released his grip on her and she moved toward the spray from the showerhead, he brought up a hand to his mouth in concern. Her forceful slip against his legs had left her lingerie more badly stained than ever, and she soon realized this as well, throwing her hands up in dismay.

"I just can't win today, can I?" she asked, startling when she felt a hand between her shoulder blades, tugging with inexperience at the clasps at the back of her bra. Though her mind screamed at her that this was crazy to be permitting someone to completely undress her when they were only getting to know each other, she rested her hands over Rufus's, guiding him as he tugged the straps from her shoulders, leaving the soapy lingerie to tumble to the shower floor. From what she had heard of the brash young security guard, she expected to immediately find his hands groping her exposed breasts as if they were some great prize he had unlocked, but with great restraint he merely brought one arm down to rest around her waist and drew her close, his chin resting on her shoulder.

She could feel the hardness of his length pressing against the fabric of her bikini briefs, and after several moments, she bent slightly to hook her thumbs in the sides of her panties, deftly stepped out of them, and then leaned back against him once more, guiding his willing hands upward until they cupped her chest. Something between them had changed, and definitely for the better...

Rubbing in the rest of the soap and reveling in the increase in her breathing and her occasional quiet sigh or moan, Rufus felt as though he had died and gone straight to Heaven, or at least some strange version of it where clouds were made of soap suds and girls willingly hopped in the shower with him. In his considerably long time as a single since he and Felicia had parted ways, he had only been able to procure any form of affection by bribery, which inevitably left him despising his own tactics despite the smug outlook he projected to the rest of the world. What was happening now, by contrast, felt so right, so safe for both of them, so free of guilt.

His hands eventually sliding downward past her navel, it was only when his fingers lightly pushed through her curls of hair and brushed against her folds that she tightened her grip over his wrists as if she was having second thoughts, and, sensing her hesitation, he pulled his hands back, only to be rewarded with the sight of his new love turning around to face him, reddening slightly.

"You don't need to say it," he said, suddenly feeling woefully unprepared himself for what might have transpired. "Not yet, right, but maybe someday if we both feel ready? I can actually live with that, but, uh...how was it?" To his shock, Cheyenne shrugged carelessly, even if she still appeared flushed and beyond aroused by his ministrations.

"To be honest, I didn't get that much out of it, even if the rest of the folks around here seem to get a real kick out of it," she said nonchalantly, and Rufus's face fell at the news that his prowess might have not impressed her after all. "I mean, they go for it every time they can like they can't live without it, but I still didn't see the appeal." Unable to keep up the facade any longer and pitying her lover's crestfallen expression, she seized his arms, playfully spinning him around with pure joy in the tiny space they shared.

"I meant the gunging, you nerd! The snuggling was beyond my wildest dreams," she assured him. "It just didn't feel that naughty or inappropriate to get covered with soap in a shower stall."

Overwhelmed with relief, Rufus tilted his head forward until they were staring directly into each other's eyes. "Well, if it's 'inappropriate' you're after, there are some perks to this job." He jangled the ring of keys still hanging from his belt. "When your new boyfriend works security, it just turns out he might be able to find a way to sneak you onto the set after-hours and let you try out a proper gunging."

"No sh*t?" Cheyenne asked, smirking at the idea of stealthfully sneaking out onto the set with her partner in crime for some illicit fun.

"Ugh, after today, definitely no sh*t," groaned Rufus, gesturing down at his uniform slacks. "Pick your poison: gunge, custard, porridge, pies, beans or whatever else suits your fancy, but I've had enough of that for a lifetime!

Besides," he added, pulling her closer to himself as he let his weight pull them downward into the deep, foamy suds, "before we take care of all this laundry, there's one more thing we should get out of the way. We got to second and even third base before reaching first, and that's just not right. Do you think I could have that kiss after all?"

Leaning in, Cheyenne paused with her lips tantalizingly close to his. "Let's see," she said, calculating. "I've been here three months, I've passed by your checkpoint at least twice a day, so that makes me quite a scofflaw for avoiding the toll every time! I guess I owe you a few, and maybe some extras as a penalty for late payment."

*****

Clutching a portfolio of notes and schedules for the day's busy filming schedule, Penny, one of the game show's technicians, inwardly bristled as she passed Rufus's station the following afternoon. Dealing with the surly and often-lewd officer was definitely far from the highlight of her day.

"Oh, no demand for a kiss today?" she asked curtly when he failed to interfere with her progress through the hallway, only to stop short at the sight of the security guard. His uniform freshly washed and his skin scrubbed clean, he couldn't have presented a sharper contrast to the humiliated and downtrodden individual he had been the evening before, but more startlingly, his entire neck and the small amount of his chest she could see below his open shirt collar were completely covered with dozens of red pressure marks that she immediately recognized as the results of over-aggressive kissing from a partner. Love bites? But who would even...

"If that was an offer, thanks, but I'm good for now!" Rufus assured her, cordially tipping his uniform cap her way. It had been beyond fun leaving his superiors at the studio guessing what might have transpired the night before, though he imagined they would soon enough figure it out for themselves, he thought, leaning back in his chair in bliss with his hands behind his head.