After The History Of Slapstick

If you saw me on the street, you'd either ignore me (please do!) or you'd do what everybody and their brother does. They point and laugh. You see I'm a has-been movie star and I'm only 23. When I was a freshman in college, I was offered a part in a mini-series called, The History of Slapstick. There were going to be six episodes, but filming would take a year because it was going to be filmed all over the world showing how slapstick was done everywhere and throughout history. Wow! Educational and fun to watch! Great TV, right?

Well, you see, I was a 19yo girl, cute and filled out in all the right places. The producers weren't going to go the Three Stooges route and have it be the old, fat lady who kept getting hit with pies. No, they wanted the cute girl to be constantly taking all the slapstick abuse. Why? Well, that all important demographic - every horny guy ever. Apparently, horny guys love watching college chicks get pelted with pies, but tune out when the guys are getting hit. Go figure.

I mean - It's a living, right? And it was a pretty good one too! For that full year, I flew all over the world figuring out what slapstick meant to every major culture and some of the really obscure ones. And the show was a hit. Huge hit. So huge, we got renewed. How does a mini-series get renewed? I still don't know, but apparently my contract said I had to keep going since we were renewed. I'm not saying I would have backed out, but maybe tried to get some actual money?

Well, season two had to top season one, right? But they didn't want to waste the time and money filming on location, so a soundstage in LA became the "everywhere" we were going to. They were saving on travel, so they could really up the ante on the crap they threw at me, dumped on me, or threw me into. And the costumes just kept getting more ridiculous. Swimsuit models appearing topless were showing less than I was (after having been dunked in "dishwater suds" that made the tank top completely see-through.

Two things and I'll end my sob story, I promise. One - I fell in love with my co-star. Randy was the gorgeous "straight man" who was constantly there to bump me into a mud puddle and then ask how I got so dirty. Or hit me with a pie while he was trying to "put it in the box". Or knock the pin out of a dump truck, causing its entire load of manure to fall on me. I really loved him. But he didn't give a shit about me.

The other sad part? About two weeks before airing, the network was getting review copies of the second season, and they started to panic. The first season had been racy; this one was R-rated. While they had certainly put stuff like this on cable before, they were nervous now. That's when some do-gooders started to threaten boycotts. They said the show was only a thinly veiled excuse to show a girl's tits on the screen. Duh! So they never aired the second season. And I got labelled as a "problem". I was freakin' 21 and I was blackballed in Hollywood.

Well, I may not have been a child star, but the whole process messed me up. I never got heavily into drugs or needed massive rehab. No, instead the whole slapstick nature of the show anchored itself into my psyche. All those degrading moments, usually served to me by Randy, it warped me. Then, it was just a job, maybe something I did to get laughs. Now I fetishize the wet and messy. I can't even get my little lady's motor revving unless there's something gooey rubbing me somewhere.

It pays off though. I know you're going to think less of me, but here's the truth. Unable to get a job in TV or movies after I turned 21, I started doing personal appearances. Look, at least I'm my own boss. I built my web-site. I decide what rates to charge, and what "services" to provide. Don't blow your load too fast there buddy, I'm talking about wet and messy not just wham-bam. My earlier fame certainly helps, as does the fact that they released the second season on disc (NC17). I wouldn't be able to charge these kinds of rates if it weren't for the show.

So what I do now? What are these services? Well, let me tell you about my first one. So I put myself out on the internet hoping someone will hire me for a personal appearance. Honestly I was thinking like the opening of a car dealership or something, but this guy hires me to come to his college graduation party. Different, but I needed the cash. The website promised I would take a pie or cake to the face, but only for extra and once they hit me, I got to leave. I mean, I'm not going to stick around dripping pie in public. That would get gross pretty quick.

So I show up, and there's no one there, just the guy. I'm like "Dude, did we get our dates mixed up?" and he tells me that he got pissed at all of his friends. Seems they had a falling out when he finished school in four years while most of them weren't graduating even after five. I asked him why he didn't just let me know and I'd have refunded all but the cancellation fee, but he said he always wanted to meet me, so he didn't care.

Now, honestly, I was a bit worried. I mean, invited to a party where there's no party? But this guy was not the frightening type. I was pretty sure I could take him if it came to that. So we hung out. He asked me questions about the show and some of the people I'd met. Maybe it's because I still live in Hollywood, but sitting around talking to a really normal guy about nothing - It was great. I was feeling almost ready to give him his money back. OK, not really. Yeah, but then he remembered the cake in the face thing. Hey, no prob. He paid for it, he deserved it.

So we're trying to figure out how to do it, because this thing is massive. Looking at it, I knew if he really tried to throw it at me it would break apart and just fall on the floor. (You see, I'm an expert on this stuff now.) So I told him, look, why don't I just smash my face into it on the table? But he really wanted to be the one who hit me in the face with the cake, so we compromised. I positioned myself right above the cake, legs apart, bending at the hips. He saddles up right behind me and takes the back of my head in his hands and slowly (I mean really slowly), he pushes my face down into the cake. So he's holding my face down, and I couldn't resist. (I warned you I was warped!) I reached between my legs and felt his cock. ROCK hard!

When I grabbed for his cock, his hands immediately let go of my head in surprise. I honestly felt really bad about that, because he had been looking forward to caking my head his entire semi-adult life. So completely blind from the cake, I turned around, hit my knees and grabbed his cock again. I'm sure he was stunned into paralyzation, which worked, because I unzipped him and pulled his rod out. Had I been thinking straight I would have left his place hours ago, so clearly I wasn't thinking, especially when I started to give him the best damn blow job of his entire life.

I almost wish he had filmed it and leaked it, because I would love to have watched that shit. There I was on my knees, face engulfed in this cake and just sucking him off. He was kind of thin, but he was long. I'm not some deep throating diva, but I couldn't take it all. Typically, that means he's nine inches or more - not shabby!

At first I thought he was starting to shrink a bit, which I did not find flattering. I think he was just so surprised he got freaked out. But I took that as a challenge and redoubled my efforts. I knew my nose squashing into his crotch was smashing the cake all over him, but I'm sure it helped his fantasy. Once I had his full attention, he didn't last long at all. Long streams of cum were painting the inside of my mouth. I held it all there, then stood up. Still blinded from cake, I reached for him and clumsily, found his mouth, and kissed him. By the time I finished, we had shared his cum, and his face was covered in cake. I could see out of one eye now, so I kissed his cake covered nose and headed out the door.

You know, he called me again, trying to make another appointment. I tried to explain to him that I had never done anything like that before and didn't intend to again, but he kept at me. Weirdly, we became friends, but only online friends. I haven't laid eyes on him since, because there's something about him. He's just so damn innocent I want to dirty him up a bit. Not safe for either of us. Besides, he's married now, but I know he still fantasizes about me.