Smash the Sweetheart (Part 2): A Female WAM Story

This is a continuation of Part 1 of the Smash the Sweetheart story. I recommend reading the first part if you haven't already; it sets the stage for this finale!

Scene 3: What Would You Do to Keep This Job?

Once again, the crowd’s murmurs became louder and louder. Alexis handed the scissors to Ms. Johnson, then made a beeline toward Reese. She pocketed the handcuffs, took the ball gag – a bright red ball with a black strap – shoved the ball into Reese’s open mouth, and clasped it tight behind her head.

Reese continued to make desperate noises, only this time no one could understand a word she said. Alexis’s betrayal continued, as she grabbed both of Reese’s wrists, yanked them behind the folding chair, and locked the handcuffs around her wrists.

Alexis forced Reese to her feet. Reese began squirming as she spotted Ms. Johnson approaching with the scissors. For her part, Ms. Johnson made a couple of phantom snips as she approached. Reese knew exactly where this was going, and Ms. Johnson made sure to drag it out.

The crowd groaned as Ms. Johnson knelt down and snipped at the front of the red-turned-green slimy top, right at Reese’s ribcage. The thick slime made it difficult to chop up at first, but with Ms. Johnson’s muscular hands, the thin fabric never really stood a chance. After a few cuts, Ms. Johnson pocketed the scissors, walked behind Reese’s back, grabbed each side of the frayed garment, and pulled out and up, ripping the top in two with a flourish.

The crowd shouted OHHHH at the sign of disrespect. All Reese could do was collapse her shoulders and show a pained face as her bare breasts and perky nipples were exposed for the first time.

But the ordeal was only half over. Ms. Johnson wanted to send one more message about her displeasure, so she turned Reese around, making her ass face the crowd. Reese’s yoga pants-covered ass still showed the splatter marks of the back-to-back pie spankings Alexis and Ms. Johnson delivered earlier, only this time, there was no pie.

But there was a paddle.

Ms. Johnson shoved Reese’s bare back down, showing her plump, perky butt to the crowd, took the wooden paddle from Alexis, wound up with two hands, and smacked Reese’s ass with all the force she could muster. The smack was so hard that Reese’s feet shuffled forward a couple of steps just so she could maintain her balance.

Reese cried out through the ball gag in pain.

The crowd bayed for more, chanting, ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME!

Ms. Johnson had to oblige. Once more, she wound up, and somehow smacked Reese’s ass even harder. Reese stumbled forward again, this time almost falling into the chair and tumbling onto the floor.

With each spanking, Reese’s leggings visibly wobbled outward, her butt fat rippling in all directions from the force of the smacks.

Ms. Johnson stood Reese back up and turned her back around.

After delivering the spankings, Ms. Johnson went on to destroy Reese’s yoga pants once and for all. First, she opened up the front, getting a sneak peek of what Reese was wearing underneath. A wry smile grew across her face as she let go of the pants, making them snap back into place at Reese’s hips.

The crowd had waited long enough. Ms. Johnson yanked Reese’s pants open at the right hip; the stretchy waistband gave no resistance. As Reese shuddered in disgust, Ms. Johnson cut Reese’s pants down her right leg, cutting through slime, berries, and whipped cream all the way down to her ankle.

With the right leg in tatters, Ms. Johnson switched over to the other side, cutting straight down Reese’s left leg. It took mere seconds for her to cut to her left knee, and at that point, the ruined leggings gave way in both the front and back of Reese’s body, falling to the floor and revealing what made Ms. Johnson so happy.

Underneath Reese’s yoga pants was a tiny piece of fabric: a glittery silver thong. The crowd reacted to this with a roar.

Reese’s brand new outfit, which cost her nearly $200 yesterday, was shredded on the ground, mixing with and sopping up all the slop that had already collected at her feet. And now all that was left between her and complete nudity up here was a flimsy piece of shiny polyester that didn’t even cover her ass.

And Reese’s tormentors knew it. Once again, Ms. Johnson spun Reese around, this time, to show her plump, bare butt to the cameras. Since she got the job, Reese decided to put in time at the gym for the first time in her life. she was intimidated by it, with all the jocks and the hot girls in there; she had no idea where to start. But she knew she wanted her butt to look good, so she did squats. Lots of squats. So many squats.

Three weeks of squats wouldn’t give her the bubble butt she wanted, but she was proud of the progress she was making. she was also proud of the surprised whoaaaas she heard from the audience when she was spun around, as if they didn’t expect such a nerdy girl to be packing such a dump truck.

But then she realized that there was only one reason she was made to face the back of the audience. And it was not long before her back got forced down once more, this time making her cheeks spread wide. Not long after that, she heard the count of doom.

ONE! TWO! THREE!

GLOOP-BLOOK! Alexis and Ms. Johnson tag teamed her yet again with another pair of pies, each one targeting one of Reese’s bare ass cheeks. Cream and blueberry pie filling exploded everywhere, totally smothering her glutes and sending gobs of pie mess up her butt. It felt a little tingly but a lot horrible. The pie tins were quickly taken away to reveal a gooey mess, blueberries and chunks of pie falling out from between her cheeks, sliding down her thighs, making a mess at her feet.

Reese got spun around again to face the audience, and even with her face covered in pie and green slime, her embarrassment was so apparent. She’d been up here for 15 minutes, her face and ass getting blasted over and over again with cream pies. She’d been slimed, she’d sat on a cake, and god knows what else was in store for her.

The crowd was getting riled up, and the next thing Reese knew, she heard Ms. Johnson tell them, “Let’s make this queen sit on her throne.”

And with that, Reese felt her knees buckle, as Alexis took her shoulders and forced them downward once more. Even with two pies already splattered all over her butt, Reese felt the full squishiness of her seat, as her ass found its way right into the center of a massive sheet cake, right into the center of a bullseye made of blue frosting. Even with the ball gag in her mouth, Reese couldn’t help but scream right through it.

The crowd OHHHH-ed yet again as they saw Reese’s ample ass cheeks flatten the six-inch tall dessert, sending chunks of pink and blue frosting over the sides of her seat and shooting out from between her legs.

Reese struggled to find stability, with her butt sliding all over the seat and smearing cake all around her bottom, her thighs, and, most uncomfortably, straight up her crack. She beat herself up for picking a thong today. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, and wished she could just disappear.

It took a few seconds, but Reese finally composed herself. She looked up, just in time to see that the pie throwing version of Nolan Ryan was about to deliver another strike. All Reese had time to do was shut her eyes and whimper before an overfilled whipped cream and butterscotch pudding pie wrecked her face for the umpteenth time. It nailed her right in the nose, blasting her hair, and splattering all over her chest. Gobs of gold-colored pudding tumbled into her lap, leaving a trail of goo all the way down and staining the crotch of her shimmery thong for the very first time.

But it wouldn’t be the last. Reese opened her eyes to find another pie right at her chin, Ms. Johnson’s large hand just beneath the tin. Reese knew Ms. Johnson was doing this only to get a reaction, but she had already been pounded so many times that her instinctual reaction was to do exactly what Ms. Johnson wanted: beg for mercy.

Mm-mmmmm. Mm-mmmm!!!! Reese moaned through the ball gag.

MM-HMMMM!!! Ms. Johnson retorted. she reared back and plowed Reese’s face yet again, smearing the pie around before taking the crumpled tin and frisbeeing it into her chest, where it bounced off her left breast and flew to the side of the stage.

By now, Reese had lost count of how many desserts she’d been hit with, and was reduced to hoping that the audience was getting bored of seeing her ritual execution. But with this event taking place once a month, and with the exorbitant entry fees that patrons had to pay just to enter the club, they were always looking to get their money’s worth. Expectations, as she was told multiple times, were very high.

And for this sadistic crowd, that meant getting the most pained reactions possible from the month’s honoree. While Ms. Johnson was working Reese’s face with her latest pie, Alexis had already picked up another. Only this time, she figured she’d give Reese’s face a break.

With pie mess sealing her eyes shut, all Reese could do was hear the crowd getting louder and shouting their approval. What she didn’t see was Alexis pointing directly between Reese’s legs. her knees were spread wide, giving the audience a tremendous view of her meaty crotch. With her silvery thong shining like a disco ball underneath the spotlight, Alexis couldn’t resist aiming for a new, more sensitive target.

Reese scrunched up her face when she heard the count, expecting another skull-shattering hit to the face.

ONE! TWO! THREE!

THOONK!

Reese felt the impact of her first-ever pie to the crotch, and let out a long, agonizing wail as if she’d been shot. Alexis slammed a massive banana cream pie straight down onto Reese’s lap, making the shiny piece of cloth covering her snatch disappear completely. Though the jock protected her privates from mess, it couldn’t protect her from the shock, which shot up her spine and made her brain tingle.

Reese reacted by looking straight up at the heavens, where she only barely had time to close her eyes as she saw Ms. Johnson, armed with not one, but two pies, looking right back at her.

“Peekaboo!” she’d said, right before turning Reese’s lights out, spiking two chocolate cream pies straight down onto Reese’s face like a quarterback celebrating a touchdown.

BLAM. A brutal pie sandwich, deafening the young model for the very first time.

Reese’s body convulsed as another wave of mess came raining down onto her mostly naked body, mixing with the slime and berries to create a slurry of every color of the rainbow. she struggled and squirmed against the handcuffs, and her feet started skidding across the stage floor, a desperate attempt to regain her footing.

But of course, the ladies weren’t done yet. Despite still having over a dozen pies left, they decided to go bigger. Conveniently, two sheet cakes remained on the cart, and they weren’t about to go to waste.

The audience’s collective voice again began to reach a crescendo, except this time, Reese could barely hear it. She couldn’t see her tormentors either, with thick chocolate cream pie smothering her face and her hands unable to clear her eyes.

This time, there was no count; instead, what Reese couldn’t hear were the women whispering to each other, “You go high, I’ll go low.”

Both Alexis and Ms. Johnson reared back and let the cakes fly from a full five feet away, and both converged on Reese’s body with a force that nearly sent her toppling over the back of her chair.

As usual, Alexis scored a direct hit, slamming Reese’s pie-covered face with a two-foot-long strawberry filled cake. Reese’s body jerked upward from the hit she didn’t see coming, as the entire thing exploded with a blast zone that no pie had achieved thus far. After the cake was done with her, her upper half from her bare breasts to her face, which had been covered in green slime and white whipped cream, were mashed with a layer of bright pink frosting.

Reese had some fortuitous timing, because as her body jerked from the surprise and force of Alexis’s cake, that was the moment when Ms. Johnson’s chocolate buttercream cake connected with Reese’s torso.

The hit took Reese’s breath away, all while coating everything from her diaphragm all the way to her crotch, with chocolatey goodness. While it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as the pie did, the feeling of thick cake smothering everything from her head to her groin made Reese moan so loudly that even the guests in the back could hear her anguish. Reese’s entire front was a thick, heavy, sweet, sticky mess.

As a final flourish, both women took both of their hands and smeared the cake all over Reese’s chest and stomach. Alexis even smeared her hand across the cup of Reese’s breasts, knowing that this was something she could hold over her when both of them were back with the dance team. Reese shuddered at the feeling, powerless to do anything about it.

Both women licked their fingers, tasting the bits of cake that had been all over Reese’s body. They approved of the taste and of their handiwork. Then, they wiped the remainder on whatever bits of clean skin they could find on Reese’s body.

And still, they weren’t done. Both women grabbed large, restaurant-size tubs full of chocolate syrup and caramel as Reese looked on in horror. But with the gag in her mouth and her hands behind her back, there was little she could do but kick her legs, squirm in her seat, and violently shake her head no. Naturally, the ladies didn’t listen.

Alexis threw her hands forward, splashing a wave of caramel right in Reese’s face. The viscous tan liquid seemed to seal her eyes shut, giving both women the chance to go to town on Reese’s helpless body. Both Alexis and Ms. Johnson walked behind her, and slowly started to pour. The crowd ohhhhed in pity as Reese’s face slowly became engulfed in a mix of black and brown. The pink and brown of the cakes seemed to disappear under the thick, heavy syrups, turning Reese an ugly shade of black in the process. her shiny crotch cover took on more mess, the chocolate ensuring that this time, Reese’s sexy garment would be ruined permanently.

Just a few items remained on the cart, and Alexis and Ms. Johnson were at the point when they wanted to savor every last moment; if Reese quit tonight, like they imagined she might, it might be a while before they had a poor performer that deserved a trashing like this.

With that in mind, they finally took up the bazooka guns that were dipped in a bucket of watery whipped cream. Reese’s eyes stung from the ungodly amounts of chocolate syrup that got dumped on her, which meant she didn’t even stand a chance. The crowd began stomping their feet as Alexis raised a double-barreled bazooka full of whipped cream. Like the pies and cakes before it, Alexis took aim right between Reese’s eyes. Right as the noise reached a fever pitch, Alexis suddenly pumped the barrel of the gun, sending two jets of pie filling screaming toward Reese’s face.

Screaming was the operative word, as that was the noise Reese made when she felt the force of the blast, like a shaken up soda whose cap was suddenly taken off. Reese’s body shook violently as the blast continued for what seemed like forever. The white of the cream mixed with the black of the chocolate syrup and the brown of the caramel to create swirls of color, smothering her from face to chest with all kinds of crazy colors. When the deluge finally stopped, Reese hung her head in shame, as cream fell off her face and out of all of her orifices, oozing their way down her body, between her tits, before coming to rest in her lap.

Which was where Ms. Johnson was waiting with her double-barreled bazooka. Suddenly, Reese felt a rush of cool air on her vagina. With her eyes still glued shut from the chocolate syrup, she resorted to using her shoulder to clear her eyes out. When she finally did, she looked up and saw a scene of horror: Ms. Johnson right in front of her face, and her thong held open, two cream-filled barrels pointed inside.

To this point, Reese’s pussy had been spared direct punishment, but that was no longer the case. Reese screamed something incomprehensible. Ms. Johnson simply said, “Bye, bye.” And she fired.

BLOOOOOSH!!

Reese got to feel the intensity of two jets of cream fired straight into her flimsy underwear. If she had any voice left, she used the rest of it here, crying out from the shock of the most horrifying thing she had ever felt. The combination of the pain, the embarrassment, the humiliation, and the crowd egging Ms. Johnson on was as much as she could take. She came to the club today thinking she was going to do another honest day’s work. Instead, now with runny whipped cream flooding out from between her legs, she felt like she’d been reduced to a carnival act. And still, it felt like there was no end in sight.

Not long after getting her crotch crammed with cream, Reese felt the warm embrace of even more slime being dumped on her head. She received three buckets in all – pink slime, then yellow, then green, each one mixing with the chocolate, caramel, and cream to create the ugliest looking shade of brown all over Reese’s once immaculate body.

Alexis wouldn’t let her look this way. So she took the last bucket, a nice bold blue color, and, instead of dumping it over her head, she simply tossed the contents straight into Reese’s face. This left her looking like a smurf, her face unrecognizable, her body dripping all the colors of the rainbow.

“And that, my friends, is Smash the Sweetheart!” Ms. Johnson proclaimed triumphantly. “Can we have a round of applause for Reese?”

The crowd rose to give Reese a standing ovation. They even chanted her name, recognizing how much courage it took to simply sit there and take pie after pie, cake after cake, to get paddled multiple times, to have her clothes torn off, to take a cream blaster right to the groin. This was a gambit meant to get the weakest performers on staff to quit on the spot, but Reese didn’t. She considered it, but didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

After all of that, Reese appreciated the recognition, but wished that she could simply have been called into Ms. Johnson’s office and told that her performance needed to improve. Now, she had no clothes, smelled like the fucking Hershey Factory, and still had to work an entire shift. Not to mention that Alexis was her co-worker at her other job, so anytime they crossed paths, Reese knew Alexis had dirt on her.

But that was for another day. Right now, she was just relieved that this brutal public humiliation was finally over.

Or so she thought.

The next thing she heard was Ms. Johnson’s deep voice, which she had come to fear at this point.

“Can we get our VIP members up on stage, please?”

From her spent, slouched over position, Reese suddenly jerked back to attention. She looked around, and saw about 15 men, some on the younger side, but most middle-aged, balding, overweight – maybe not the most attractive in her book – leave their seats and approach the stage. Reese took note that none of the VIPs were any of her regular clients. These were the high rollers. Whatever they say goes, and they were about to have the final say in this month’s Smash the Sweetheart event.

Reese didn’t even need to look over at the cart to know what was going to happen next, but she did anyway. On the cart were a little over a dozen pies still left over. It didn’t require a grad school student to connect the dots. Each man was handed a pie, and each faced the helpless, handcuffed, muzzled messy model like a firing squad. Many of the guys made lascivious gestures and faces at Reese, which somehow felt more humiliating than anything that had been done to her so far tonight.

Ms. Johnson said, “We love our members, especially our VIPs. Alexis and I had most of the fun tonight, but this is one way we get to say thank you to our most generous members.

“So, Reese. Anything you have to say before this happens?”

All she could do was let out a panicked moan.

“Oh, right. You can’t speak, can you. Well, a little tip for you before we finish. If you want to avoid having all of this happen to you again, you might want to remember these faces. These are the guys whose generosity could get you out of the dog house next month. Got it?

Addressing the audience, Ms. Johnson said, “I just want to thank you all for attending this month’s Smash the Sweetheart, give yourselves a nice, warm round of applause!”

Hearty applause breaks out among the 40 or so left in the audience.

“Before we go, we have one more piece of business to take care of.

“Alright, guys. On the count of three, you know what to do. FINISH HER.”

Reese’s moans and head nods escalated. Her heart started racing faster and faster as the guys all took a step forward and cocked their arms back.

The remaining members of the audience, and all of the other performers, all counted together. This is it, Reese thought.

ONE!

Reese’s pleas for mercy fell silent.

TWO!

She shut her eyes, tensed her entire body, and prepared for the worst.

THREE!

Please god, don’t let this hurt.

SMASH THE SWEETHEART!

A crowd of horny men unleashed their fury on the young, fit college 23-year-old’s body, launching a barrage of pies like missiles hitting their targets. Reese’s head got knocked back several times from the force of the hits, as virtually all of the guys landed direct hits on her face and body.

A chocolate cream to the side of the head. A blueberry filled right between the eyes. A banana cream right in the mouth, sending sweet cream and banana pudding down her throat. A coconut cream straight to the tits, making her breasts wobble and knocking the breath out of her lungs. And several others still, banging hard against her face, her head, her shoulders, and her chest.

When it was all said and done, everything from Reese’s navel up to her face was completely destroyed. It was as if she was handcuffed in a chair with Jigsaw from “Saw” watching her unsuccessfully try to escape her handcuffs and neutralize a whipped cream bomb that detonated right in her pathetic little face. To sum it up, Reese was completely annihilated.

But four guys held back. Of the 15 or so that took the stage, four of them still had pies in their hands. Reese could barely blink her eyes open, they were so far buried under mountains of cream and pie filling. But she blinked enough to be able to see out of one eye, and noticed the first of the four coming straight at her, pie in hand.

Reese barely had time to yell “Wai–” before she was silenced with another big hit. This one was a thick chocolate cream that whipped her neck back, and that the giver swirled around and around.

Though Alexis was letting the guys have at her, she noticed Reese’s face getting worked and took the opportunity to use the distraction to her advantage. She quickly stepped in front of the other guys, and with both hands, she grabbed the waistband of Reese’s thong at her hips, and yanked them down with a flourish.

The crowd jeered as Reese’s naked pussy finally made an appearance! It looked so delectable covered in the whipped cream from the gun. As with the rest of her body, Reese took great care of this area too; she was virtually hairless.

With her face still getting pummeled with the first pie, all Reese could do was squirm in her chair. She could sense she was naked, but was too distracted to know what would happen next.

Until she felt it. With Reese’s underwear now down at her ankles, VIP #2 took his pie and smashed it right onto Reese’s groin. The pie exploded on impact, sending cherry pie filling, whipped cream, and crust in all directions, and forcing Reese’s body into another round of convulsions. Her hips buckled, she slid forward in her seat, and her head bucked, causing the first guy to finally relent with her pie and slide it over her head, into her hair until it fell to the floor on the other side.

Reese let out a noise that sounded vaguely like ‘UGH-HO-HOOOO-NOOOOO”, as she was quite literally stripped of the one tiny shred of dignity she had left.

Those wails would only get louder. Seeing the reaction the last guy got, VIP #3 took his pie and aimed for rounder targets, slamming his blueberry filled pie right into Reese’s chest. Reese cried out in a way that she hadn’t since she was a child, screaming in agony as she felt cold whipped cream and thick blueberry sludge being ground into her breasts. The guy worked each one with the tin until the pie itself was empty, at which point he let it drop into the sludge that had collected in her lap. Pie mess continued to ooze from her hairless crotch onto the folding chair and straight down to the floor, where a pile of pie several inches high had begun to form.

With one extra pie left over on the cart, VIP #4 happily took it, walked right behind Reese, and as she was gasping for air from the second brutal hit to her privates, VIP #4 turned Reese’s lights out for good, burying her face with a devastating pie sandwich. Cream and key lime pie shot in all directions, even splattering one or two of the VIPs. But Reese clearly got the worst of it. Her face seemed to have been rearranged, her eyes nowhere to be found, her hair as mangled as the dozens of pie tins surrounding her totally spent body.

VIP #4 finally let the pies fall to the floor, but not before the three other VIPs all picked up handfuls of the pie slop at Reese’s feet and began rubbing them sensuously into her chest and all over her face.

Sultry music came on over the loudspeakers as the guys smeared pie mess all over Reese for 15 seconds, before finally, the crowd began to applaud one final time, the guys took their cue, flicked the pie remnants on their hands right at Reese’s body, and took a bow.

Reese slumped in the chair, utterly humiliated and completely spent. her head hung low, all while clumps of pie continued falling from her head, either splattering in her lap or taking the long journey down her body, leaving sticky goo in its wake. Her feet sunk into the pile of slop on the stage floor, soaking into her skin and between her toes. Her ass was still stuck to the cake she’d sat on long ago, her groin was inches beneath a pile of pie, her thong rested comically around her ankles. She could barely take in what had happened over the last 30 minutes (or was it an hour? Two?); all she could do was gasp for air and thank her lucky stars that the show was finally over.

After shaking people’s hands and thanking everyone for coming, Alexis finally came over to unlock Reese from her handcuffs and remove the ball gag from her mouth. Rather than try to reclaim her modesty and pull her ruined underwear back up, Reese simply stepped out of it, figuring everyone had already seen all there was to see. Unsurprisingly, Ms. Johnson was nowhere to be found, a phantom that Reese now knew only came around when someone on staff needed to be punished.

A plastic pathway was made for Reese to go back to the showers to clean up, but by the time she got there, she remembered her only clothes; they were all torn up, somewhere beneath the piles of pies, slime, cakes, and syrup back on stage. So much money, all for nothing. And now, she had her thong, and nothing else. Either she’d get a ride home, or take the worst bus trip back to her apartment.

But in the meantime, she still had a shift to do, tips to earn. No one would take it easy on her tonight just because she’d been used on stage for everyone to see. And with no other outfits available to her, Reese just made do with what she had: the thong, once silvery and shimmery, now without any of the glitter it once had. Soggy, sticky, smelly. Just like her.

She stepped onto the floor with as much fake confidence as she could muster, but then she saw it: the folding chair, a melange of sticky slop all over it. Goop all over the stage floor. It would stay there the rest of the night as a reminder to her. A sweet-smelling warning.

As usual, some of the regulars decided to stick around, and many of them were drawn to Reese, whether because of her guts, out of pity, or simply because she smelled like cake. But no matter the reason, she got a head start on escaping from becoming next month’s Smash the Sweetheart victim. By the end of the night, she had her best night of tips since starting at the club. She’d be able to replace her shredded outfit a few times over.

Maybe this was the start of something good. Or maybe the Smash the Sweetheart tip bump was exactly the kind of thing that kept below-average girls like her from ever leaving. Despite the ever-present possibility of losing every shred of dignity you’ve ever had, the money was simply too good to pass up. Alexis was right after all.