Posted at 23:54 on 4 Oct 2015 by Pandora / Blake
On Wednesday night last week I was buzzing with pre-shoot nerves. I read and re-read the script, tried to print it, realised I was out of printer ink, and finally emailed it to myself as a document with my lines highlighted in yellow. I took extra care packing my bag, thought everything through umpteen times and sent a dozen frantic emails to the producer full of questions and concerns. The reason? On Thursday, I was travelling to Northampton for my first ever wet and messy shoot.
During the nine years that I've been shooting spanking video, it's sort of become routine. But this time took me right back to the nerves I felt before my first ever spanking video shoot. Suddenly I found myself empathising a hell of a lot more with the new performers that I've hired as a producer in the last couple of years, and I developed a newfound admiration for their calm and professionalism. If I was this much of a mess (as it were) after nine years of fetish video experience, simply at the prospect of getting gunged all over my hair, shoes and clothes, how much harder must it be for the performers I hire who are facing a day of spankings for the first time?
In a weird way, I actually felt more nervous before my first wet and messy shoot than I did before my first spanking shoot. By the time I agreed to get spanked on video, I'd been getting spanked in private for six years, and fantasising about it for another ten years before that. But until last Thursday, I'd never submitted to the experience of being covered in gunge or given a pie in the face - or even thought about it much.
Patrick (AKA Reverend Slymsford) was very patient with my late-night anxious emails, and responded to each one reassuring me that everything would be OK, and I didn't have to do anything I didn't want to. The thing that was making me most nervous was whether my clothes and shoes would survive the experience. Part of the fetish is the idea that expensive outfits get totally ruined, and there were lots of lines in the script commenting that my clothes would never be the same again, the stains would never wash out, etc. Patrick was quick to reassure me that this is just fantasy, and in reality, everything would be fine after a couple of washes. In fact he actually put a load of laundry on during the day, so that by the time I left, my clothes from the first scene were already clean. He also very kindly bought some clothes in my size, and told me that if I wanted, I could wear those instead of risking my own. Phew!
The morning of the shoot, I arrived at the house to find every surface of the kitchen covered in desserts. Cream cakes, cheesecakes and gateaux as far as the eye could see. While Patrick was making other preparations, he handed me and one of the other models, Maria, hand whisks, mixing bowls, whipping cream and custard powder, and asked us to make as much sweet-smelling gloop as we could. Apparently wet and messy shoots require an awful lot of edible props.
"It seems a shame to waste it all," I remarked, mouth watering at the sight of so many delicious desserts. "Oh, it won't be wasted," Maria declared.
She introduced herself as a WAM enthusiast rather than a professional fetish performer (WAM stands for "wet and messy" and is used as a verb - e.g. I was about to spend the day getting totally wammed.) I hoped she didn't mind being asked questions about her fetish - not because I thought it was weird, but because I'm endlessly fascinated by people's sexual quirks and keen to understand them. What was it about splosh that pushes her buttons? When did she realise she was into it?
Maria told me that she loved mud as a kid, and she learned that WAM was her thing when a former boyfriend confessed that his ultimate fantasy was a pie in the face, and she thought hey, that sounds awesome. Later she made like-minded friends online, and spent time on cam getting messy in the bath. Apparently there's a big WAM scene in the UK - hundreds of photo and video sites, plus forums, splunches, daytime adult events (Maria told me about a messy "human carwash" she wanted to attend) and professional fetish models offering messy play on cam or in private sessions. How had I never encountered this before?
As Patrick explained to me, WAM has a lot in common with spanking. Both are about the psychology, emotional flavour and background plot as much as the act itself. For each of his scenes Patrick writes an intricate storyline, with a consistent motivation for each character, building up to an inevitable wamming for one or more of them. It isn't just about a pie in the face; it's about the anticipation beforehand, the victim dreading the embarrassment of getting messed up, begging and pleading to be let off the hook - which just makes the humiliation more acute when it finally happens.
At Reverend Slymsford's Sploshers it's paramount that the victim stay in character after the mess starts to fly, reacting with shock and outrage while the perpetrators gloat and revel in their degradation. No breaking into giggles here. I can relate; I've always taken my spanking kink similarly seriously, at least when it comes to portraying my fantasies on film.
Fear, anticipation, punishment, humiliation - whether you're getting spanked or getting messed up, the psychology is remarkably similar. It's about anxiety, social shame, loss of dignity, breaking taboos. And my nerves before my first time were as real as if I knew I was going to receive a painful punishment.
Fortunately, Rev Slymsford was savvy enough to cast me in a top role in my first scene, so I got to administer a couple of wammings (to the gorgeously petite and perfectly outraged Messy Jessie, and to Maria) before I received one. The first scene was a police parody, with Maria and I playing local constables who pay a call on Jessie for reneging on her commitment to mess up a friend for charity. When she didn't do the job properly, the sponsors refused to pay up - and so the Special Wamming Unit comes to call, and show her how it's done.
Like many spanking videos this was a tongue-in-cheek comedy, pretending seriousness, but with an underlying sense of the ridiculous that made it hard to keep a straight face at times. After all, pouring custard into someone's bra and paint over their hair is about as silly as - well - taking an enthusiastic grown-up over the knee for a bare bottom smacking, but both fetishes often put a serious face on an absurd reality. Let's play a game and pretend to punish and degrade each other in ways we secretly both enjoy! Fetish activities are called "play" for a reason, and I think WAM gets the balance between seriousness and silliness spot on - in fact, it made me wonder if spanking doesn't take itself a tad too seriously at times.
My first scene actually getting messy was a courtroom epic in which me, Judge Jessie and Faye Taylor all trashed poor Maria, the court clerk, multiple times while demonstrating our version of events in an alleged crime. In the end, I was found guilty - and of course the punishment was a wamming. By that time my nerves had evaporated, as I'd watched Maria and Jessie both enjoy getting messy. I was a bit nervous about getting paint in my eyes, so I'd put in a request for dessert-related mess only.
My first impression of a pie in the face was how delicious the cream, custard and fruit filling smelled. It was definitely an intense experience - it didn't take much acting to react with disgust and embarrassment, but at the same time, the cool creamy substances felt nice sliding down my skin. There was a definite element of regression, as well as degradation, to being transformed from a smart, polished grown-up in an elegant skirt suit, stockings and perfect hair and makeup, to a gooey mess with yoghurt in my hair and trifle in my knickers.
Trashing my outfit was all part of the scene, but of course to make sure I was properly humiliated I also had to be stripped to my underwear and have my bra, knickers and stockings filled with squishy creamy goo, before eventually taking them off and getting messed up in the nude. By the end my hair was full of gunge, my skin was covered in it, and all the desserts had mixed together into a slimy, squidgy, non-descript brown mess.
But before I was allowed to shower, I got my own back on Faye as new evidence revealed my innocence, and she had to receive the same punishment for lying to the court.
It took longer to clean up the mess - three girls sharing the bathroom and trying not to fling chocolate sauce from our hair all over the tiles, and two camera guys working at top speed to take the empty pie trays down to the kitchen and strip the plastic sheeting off the walls, before replacing it with fresh - than it did to get messy in the first place. But after an hour, we were all clean, dry, in fresh clothes and make-up, ready for the next round.
By the end I was really getting into it, coming up with creative ways to trash my victim - and volunteering details from the script to make sure I wasn't let off too lightly. It was me who insisted we go ahead with the "custard in the shoes" idea, and me who remembered to include the bent over "pie in the face and pie in the bum at the same time" that Reverend Slymsford had written for my character. I wish I had a photo to show you of that!
It was a fun shoot, simultaneously sillier and more labour-intensive than other porn. By the end of it I was as exhausted as at the end of a spanking shoot, if not more so. Looking your best, then getting messy, putting yourself back together and getting messy again is emotionally tiring as well as physically laborious. And it's no joke from a production perspective - from replacing the plastic sheets each scene to making and trashing dozens of desserts, I don't think I've ever been on another shoot that required quite so many disposable props.
It was great to meet Patrick, Tony, Faye, Jessie and Maria - and to learn that there is another thriving community of fetishists in the UK that I had no idea existed. It made me proud to be British. Like most of the people I meet in the fetish scene, everyone on set was incredibly interesting, and I had some great conversations - from bitching about Steven Moffat's female characters with Faye over lunch, to talking to Maria on the train home about how actualising our kinky selves has pretty much saved our lives. Faye was the one who pointed out that our generation grew up watching kids' TV like Fun House and Get Your Own Back in the early 90s, and she couldn't help wondering if that was a factor in the popularity of WAM in the UK today. Whatever the reason for it, I was delighted to discover such a fun-loving, playful fetish community, that took great pride in getting the details right without losing their sense of the absurd. I'd love to see the anti-porn brigade try to argue that splosh videos, in all their childlike silliness, are the cause of social harm. It's not my kink, but I definitely get it, and I'll argue to the last breath for the right of wammers to get as messy as they want.
I was worried that I'd never get rid of the sickly smell, but after a long soak in the bath and a couple of loads of laundry, my hair and clothes are back to normal. I had a great time shooting for Slymsford's Sploshers, and I'd definitely do it again.