I turn up at your house in the early afternoon. It's a warm day and I am wearing a couple of t-shirts, a pair of combat trousers and boots. You smile at me, and I can't help blushing slightly. You usher me in.
You offer me tea and I accept a glass of water. We sit in your kitchen. We don't make too much small talk. We each know why I am here, and we are only passing time until we can get down to it.
I say that I only have a couple of hours before I have to set out for the airport. You smile and say that that's plenty of time. I am trembling, almost imperceptibly - I haven't been this excited since I was last on a first date.
"Just before we start," you say casually, "what about ground rules? I mean, I assume nudity's okay?"
"Oh yeah," I say, feigning a casualness I don't feel. "I don't normally do this clothed anyway, so..."
"You said in your profile that sex was no problem..." you say tentatively. I smile and nod, a little nervous.
"No, I'm fine with that," I say. "You can do what you like with me. Use me," I add with a smile. You raise your eyebrows slightly and smile back. God, I am getting aroused.
"Okay then," you say, standing up. "Shall we go in?"
I follow you into the living room. There on the floor is the paddling pool. I am taken aback by the dozens of pies laid out on every available flat space...the six buckets of cake batter in various glossy shades of dayglo pink, green and blue...the packets of eggs...
"Wow," I say with a small nervous laugh, "is that all for me?"
"Why don't you take off your clothes except for your t-shirt and shorts," you say in a somewhat curt voice. "Then kneel in the paddling pool." I am suddenly aware that we've started, and that our relationship has changed; you're no longer the charming host, you're the master, and I am no longer the anxious-to-please guest, I'm the victim.
I kneel down obediently and unlace my boots, then I take off my socks. I pull my black t-shirt over my head, revealing the cheap white one I bought in Marks and Spencer a couple of hours earlier. Then I slide my combats down my legs, revealing the blue boxer shorts I also bought, and am wearing in place of my ordinary boxers, which are in my bag. You smile that I've come prepared. I step gingerly over the pies and into the paddling pool, where I kneel.
I look up at you, fearfully. You pick up a box of a dozen eggs and come forward. I raise my head and look up at you. You take an egg out of the box and break it on my forehead. It slides down over my face and I shut my eyes, making a little gasp. You break another, then another, then another. The egg flows over my face, spilling down the front of my t-shirt, pooling in my lap and sliding down my bare legs. You break more and more eggs over my head, and then you tilt my head forward slightly and break them on the back of my head so that they slide down my back. I whimper. I have never done this with a man before, and I feel that you have total power over me.
When the box is empty, my head is covered with a thin coating of glossy egg white and burst yellow yolk. I raise my head and blink it out of my eyes. You can see the bulge in my shorts already.