Crackpot Cookery – Round 01

Anal

There was a host of desserts to choose from, but with no way of knowing what was going to happen to them, it was difficult to choose. Amelia settled for a blancmange, Jade stood in front of a trifle and Holly plumped for a tiramisu.

Maya appeared next to Amelia first. ‘Why did you choose that one?’ she asked.

Amelia shrugged. ‘It looked the bounciest. Maybe that will come in handy.

‘Maybe,’ Maya replied non-committally. Moving over to Jade she asked a similar question.

‘I just like trifle.’

‘We’ll see if you still like it after this. And finally, Holly, tiramisu?’

‘Pretty much the same as Jade. I had no idea what might be useful.’

‘Indeed. Well, here’s the rub. You’re going to have to hold onto your chosen puddings while you bounce on these trampolines.’ As Maya spoke, A section of the set’s backdrop turned round, revealing a trio of small, round trampolines. ‘Whoever’s stays put the longest will earn the most points. And yes, those flimsy bras aren’t going to last long either. What a pity.’

The contestants’ expressions portrayed an array of emotions, ranging from amused shock in Holly’s case to playful nonchalance in Amelia’s. Undercutting all of these was a sense of anxious excitement. All three of them had chosen to be on the show in full knowledge of what they were getting into, but now it was happening they were understandably nervous.

‘Right, ladies,’ said Maya, cutting through the tension. ‘Pick up your desserts. It’s time to ruin them.’

All three contestants, standing carefully and nervously on their trampolines, lifted their desserts from a table in front of them. Amelia’s blancmange looked fit to fall apart just from being picked up. Jade’s trifle held up a little better, but anyone could see it wouldn’t last long being bounced up and down. Holly looked like the best bet with her tiramisu, but all three women must have been wishing they had known what the second half of this round entailed before they chose what to make in the first.

‘Ready? Three. Two. One. Bounce!’

Amelia didn’t hold out much hope for her blancmange, but it managed to last longer in its container than her tits did. She had come to the show without a bra at all, but the lingerie she had been given for this round didn’t fit right at all. Her breasts flopped out after just a couple of hesitant, experimental bounces. She’d been so focused on not spilling her pudding that she didn’t immediately notice the fact that the mesh güvenilir bahis material had slid down around her rib cage. The audience’s bawdy cheers were what eventually drew her attention to her free-jiggling chest.

Holly and Jade were faring little better, though. As predicted, Holly’s dessert was just about holding steady, but despite her bra fitting a little better than Amelia’s, it had still come loose almost immediately. The same was true of Jade, whose huge breasts were swinging around like pendulums with every bounce. Her trifle was starting to spill out of its bowl as she struggled to focus on three different things — bouncing on the trampoline, balancing the dessert, and trying to maintain some dignity.

The latter, she was trying to do by holding one arm across her chest. Unfortunately, this meant it was much more difficult to balance properly on the trampoline and more and more of her trifle was spilling. It was all over her arm when the thirty second warning sounded and, worse still, was making her trampoline treacherously slippery.

All three women were having that same problem by now, though Holly less so than the others. Her tiramisu had mostly held together, meaning she could focus on staying balanced. Unlike Jade, Holly didn’t bother to try and cover her chest, realising her dignity was already long since gone.

Amelia, meanwhile, was having an even harder time than Jade. Her blancmange was nearly all gone. The vast majority of it was bouncing around on her trampoline. With fifteen seconds left, she simply gave up on the blancmange altogether, giggling hysterically at the feeling of the gelatinous dessert squelching under her bare feet.

Giggling was the order of the day, in fact. All three women, no matter how unsuccessful their attempts to win the round had been, were in fits of laughter. It only served to make their efforts to maintain the integrity of their desserts even more difficult. Even Holly, seemingly the most focused on winning, was chuckling away as her breasts jiggled and swayed with every bounce of the trampoline. They looked ridiculous, and felt ridiculous, and all three of them went along with it in the spirit of the show.

When a siren finally signalled the end of the round, all three women were topless and covered in some amount of pudding. Amelia was actually the cleanest. Having clearly lost the round early on, her blancmange had slathered her bare feet and legs, but apart from a few streaks along güvenilir bahis siteleri her forearm, the rest of her body was mostly clean.

Holly, too, had stayed relatively untainted. She had won the round, but her tiramisu had fallen apart in two big lumps. One of them had splattered the side of her torso when it fell, the other missed completely and had just splattered her feet in a fashion similar to Jade and her blancmange.

It was Jade’s trifle which, despite managing to hold on long enough to give its owner second place, had made the most mess. Her chest was streaked with cream, in stark contrast with her dark skin. Lashes of custard were all over her near-naked body and a combination of all three parts had made a sludgy, colourful mess of her trampoline and feet. Still, all three squelched as they dismounted, readjusting their bras to cover their breasts as they formed a line beside Maya.

Maya did her best to keep her distance from the slop-soaked women without while trying not to make it look too obvious. ‘Congratulations, Holly,’ she said. ‘You’re off to a great start with fifty points for that win. Can you tell us a bit about your strategy?’

Holly laughed at the faux-professional tone. ‘Oh, well, you know, I just got lucky with my choice, I guess.’

‘No kidding. And Amelia, a bit of a disaster for you, eh?’

‘Oh, yeah, that makes me feel much better, thanks,’ the redhead replied with obvious sarcasm.

‘Well, you know what that means. Time for a forfeit,’ Maya said.

Amelia nodded dejectedly. She knew a forfeit was due, but what it would entail had been left deliberately, worryingly vague in the contract she had signed to be here.

‘The thing is,’ Maya went on, ‘we might need these trampolines for a future show, and we can’t have them dangerously slippery from the get-go. So, what we need you to do is get them as clean as you can. Unfortunately, we don’t have any mops or really any cleaning products at all.’

‘So I’m just supposed to wipe them clean with my bare hands?’ Amelia asked.

‘Hands, face, tits, arse, whatever. Get going. We don’t have all day.’

Seeing the writing on the wall — or, at least, the slop on the trampoline — Amelia decided this could be a useful time to get the audience on her side. All it would cost her is a spot of humiliation, but humiliation was hardly in short supply on this show. She pulled herself onto the nearest trampoline, which just happened to be hers, and iddaa siteleri stayed flat against it instead of getting to her feet. She started to flap her arms and legs like she was making a snow angel, smearing and somewhat thinning out the lumpy remains of her blancmange. She assumed — hoped — that the real point of the forfeit was to make her look silly. If she really was supposed to clean the trampoline, this wasn’t going to go down well at all.

The audience was enjoying it, though. As she had hoped, they were jeering and cat-calling her the whole time. Her tits had soon spilled back out of her bra again and were spilling around on the slimy surface of the trampoline. Her arse was the main attraction in this position, stuck up in the air, shifting and shaking with every flap of her arms and legs.

Nobody told her to stop, but Amelia started to feel self-conscious after a while and decided she needed to move on. To keep up the energy, and the vibe, she flopped backwards onto the next trampoline like she was messing up a pool dive. Trifle went flying up in the air, landing with a noisy splatter all over her stomach, thighs, chest and face. She giggled as it hit her and resolved the snow angel movements, soaking her back from top to bottom with ruined trifle.

Finally, she moved on to Holly’s trampoline, dripping the sloppy mixture of ruined desserts in a trail behind her. She instinctively put her bra back into place, but realised as she did so that it was a temporary solution at best. Why bother?

Amelia didn’t throw herself down onto this one, pondering a new approach to a now-familiar task. An idea came to her, one she wasn’t sure she liked, but once it had taken root it seemed too perfect for the current situation. She knelt carefully at the edge of the springy rubber section, then lowered her face to the ground. Her hair fanned out around her, soaking up slop. She set off crawling slowly forward in this position, with her bum stuck up in the air and her thong all but disappearing between its cheeks. It was a treat of a view for the audience, but Amelia was more concerned with the ruination of her hair and how the remains of tiramisu kept on splattering her face.

Eventually, after what felt like quite a while, she reached the far side of the trampoline. Despite the fact that she had ad libbed the whole forfeit, she was blushing now, knowing what she had just shown off, knowing she had really put on quite a show for the perverts in the audience.

To make matters worse, Maya introduced the ad break as if all Amelia’s efforts had been meaningless. ‘Alright, that’s it for round one,’ Maya said to camera. ‘We’ll be back for round two of Crackpot Cookery right after this.’

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