Do you have any idea how long it takes to throw 50 pies at someone?
The answer is a damn long time, longer than you would ever imagine. It was through an odd series of coincidences that I found myself crouched on my hands and knees in a motel room, trying (and failing) to scrub piles of chocolate pudding out of the cheap carpet after being well and thoroughly pied.
David was a producer that took a look at all the bondage porn that was flooding the internet and said to himself, “You know what an untapped market is? Splosh and bondage, COMBINED! These splosh fans are not getting their needs met!”
It is true that there was not a lot of messy food bondage porn out there. Definitely an untapped market.
David took it upon himself to specialize even further and just do pie porn. There was no baked beans or ketchup for him when it came to sploshing! He was a pie purist. I got the call to work with him at the last minute. An acquaintance of mine had agreed to do a shoot, and it was only after she was bound tightly in a chair and taken a few pies to the face that she realized, she really REALLY didn’t like to be constrained. She called me in tears looking for an emergency fill-in while simultaneously attempting to dig custard out of her ear canals.
I could take some bondage with my pies, and I agreed to step in and take her place. My friend was eternally grateful and scrapped her bondage modeling career on the spot. David was a nice enough fellow, and we had got some good content that day. He liked my style and invited me to work with him some more. Thus began a relationship that over the course of a few shoots built up to The Great Pie Off.
Numbers can be compelling things, and David had started fantasizing about the Most Extreme Pie Splosh porn ever!!! When he called me up and asked if I was down to take 50 pies straight to my noggin, I didn’t hesitate. I like to try everything at least once. “Count me in!” I replied.
The event was set to go down in a hotel, and when I got there, I saw he had draped tarps over all surfaces but the bed. This was to be an utterly useless and failed precaution. 50 pies take up a surprisingly large amount of space, and fully half of the room was coated in pies filled with custard, whipped cream, pudding and shaving cream. They were on every table, chair, and available floor space. I settled onto the bed and awaited my fate.
When it began, it started to suck. Quickly. The pies were cold and slimy. They got into your mouth, nose, ears, eyes and armpits. The high sugar content of the pie fillings burned my eyes like acid, and I was quickly blinded. If you are curious just how painful sugar in the eyes can be, rub some chocolate pudding into your eyeballs. You will instantly see just how unpleasant it is. My heart goes out to chocolate syrup wrestlers. As the cold contents of the pies built up around me, my body temperature dropped, and my teeth started chattering. And a full pie thrown directly at one’s face is surprisingly painful. The metal tin scrapes and the pie crust grates. It was like being bitch-slapped with a wet garbage bag. Over and over and over again.
The worst part was the sheer length of the whole ordeal. It just took FOREVER. Every time I would scrape the pie filling out of my burning eyes and risk a peek at the remaining tins, there would still be mountains of pies left to go. I was attempting original and witty dialog to go along with my pieing, but there simply isn’t 50 different ways to say “Please throw more pie in my face!” I ended up desperately chanting “I MUST have more pie” over and over again.
When it was finally all over and I got to towel my head off and look around, the shambles of the hotel room was intimidating. It looked like a pie hurricane had hit. Pie coated every available surface, the walls, the nightstand, the headboard, the lampshades, the floor. The tarps had only served to grind the pie deeper into the carpet. Pie had slid down the wall and oozed behind the bed and under the mattress. It was a disaster of epic proportions. I felt so badly for David.
I stayed for almost 2 hours scraping puddles of pudding off the carpet with my fingers, as he had neglected to bring any cleaning supplies, but it was an exercise in futility. Nothing was going to get that room clean short of a new coat of paint and a new carpet. I can only imagine what the hotel maid’s face looked like when she opened the door the next morning. I am sure you see some nasty things as a hotel maid: unflushed toilets, wads of pubic hair matted in the shower, cum stains, and god knows what else. But, a room so full to the brim of pie that you couldn’t even walk safely on the carpet without slipping and falling? I am guessing that was a first.
I finally gave up and went home, wishing David the best of luck. I don’t think he ever got his deposit back. We never worked together again, as I think he was a broken man after the Pie Off. I tried to stay in touch, but gradually the currents of life drifted us in different directions. To the best of my knowledge, The Great Pie Off has never been released. Which is a pity, as I am sure SOMEONE out there would like to see it!
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