A Pie in the Fetish
Issue #41, December 1998
It began a long time ago. I was sitting on a sofa in my parents' house watching TV. The Electric Company was on. (Remember that show? It featured Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader and Rita Moreno as some loud-mouthed movie director.) We were supposed to be learning about the letter "n," so a few people were standing in line, doing mean things to each other, and then the victim would say, "You're nasty!" The second-to-last person was a lovely young woman; the last guy in line held a cream pie in his hand. He tapped her on the shoulder, she turned her head, and SMUSH! he let her have it. It was the first pie in the face that I ever saw, and that old slapstick gag instantly had a mesmerizing effect on me. As I gazed at her once lovely, now whipped-cream-covered face, I could feel my heart begin to beat faster. I leaned forward on my sofa. I only saw her messy visage for a few brief seconds, but I immediately wished that I could see it again.
Although I was too young to have genuine sexual feelings, I was fascinated by her gooey features. I didn't know it then, but that scene marked the beginning of a lifelong fetish, a fetish that led me to watch hours and hours of TV, searching for more scenes like it. A fetish that would make my mother wonder why the hell I was still watching kiddie shows like The Electric Company and Sesame Street at the advanced age of twelve. A fetish that led me to buy The Three Stooges Scrapbook so I could consult the film directory in the back and figure out just how many pie fights they had, and whether I'd seen them all. (In case you're wondering, they had five pie fights, two cream puff fights, and one messy clay fight.)
When I began to masturbate at age six, I would recreate pie scenes I'd seen from TV in my mind, or make up new ones. Right away, some ground rules for my fetish were set: first and foremost, it has to be a woman taking a pie to arouse me. Men do nothing for me, and nothing frustrates me more than seeing a woman duck a pie and having it hit a man instead. And it has to be an attractive woman -- race and clothing style don't matter as long as she's pretty. Finally, the pie has to hit her in the face. No other part of her anatomy will do. And I like it best when I can see the woman's face before, during, and after the pie smash to get the full effect.
Perhaps because it is so unusual, my fetish offers a compelling example of how sexual desire comes not from "nature," but from culture. As time went by, my love of pieings evolved not so much because I grew older, but because media technologies became more sophisticated. The personal history of my fetish is also the social history of home technologies.
My fetish is wedded to the media: I like to watch women get pied only in movies and TV shows. When I see an attractive woman on the street, I find myself looking at her face and body and having nothing but pie-less sexual thoughts. And in none of my relationships with women have I ever felt the desire to smash a pie into my girlfriend's face. It's only when I see a pretty woman in a comedy movie or TV show that I start hoping ... especially since it can be easily caught on videotape.
My dad bought our family's first VCR when I was thirteen. Now I could hunt through the video store, trying to find a movie that looked likely to have some pie throwing. Or I could tape such scenes off TV and watch them at my leisure. Best of all, through the magic of slo-mo I could make the shortest pie scene last an eternity. I began to watch slowed-down videotaped pie scenes, timing my orgasm to the exact moment that a woman's face gets creamed.
During that time, I often wondered if anyone else had a fetish for pied women. Finally, about two years ago, I went online in the privacy of my own apartment for the first time. Inevitably I did a "pie in the face" word search, not expecting much more than some old movie site with a few picture stills. Instead, I was delighted and surprised to find numerous websites geared to my exact desires. There's The Pie Mafia, an organization run by one "Hurley Coward" that releases a monthly newsletter that is "A compendium of material relating to adult female victims of pies in the face and other messy stuff." The Pie Mafia also sells clip tapes of pie scenes from movies and TV shows. I've bought three so far; there are a total of thirteen two-hour tapes available (and I thought I was taking this fetish a little too far!). There's a pie website from Canada, Phoebe Pie, who boasts that she's the "cutest pied face on the web"; another from England, Clown Julie; and yes, one from MDenmark. At the Aquatapes site you can buy tapes like All Pie TV, featuring sexy models in various pie-related scenes; and there are several other sites that sell amateur pie videos. For celebrity hounds, there's The Famous Pied Faces site, a well-researched list of celebrity pieings. Who would have thought that Cher and Vanna White had been pied?
The technological progression of my fetish (from TV to VCR to Internet) raises an interesting question: is my fetish itself dependent on technology? Would I have had this fetish at all in a time and place where such technology did not exist? I once saw a live pie fight at a Laurel and Hardy celebration with several women involved, and it did nothing for me because I was unable to view it later. Our modern technological culture has implanted a fetish in me that is inseparable from technology itself. Although the pie-in-the-face gag is old, my fetishization of it is contemporary, using available modern conveniences to service an unusual desire. So while my fetish might seem "genetic" because I've had it almost since birth, it is clearly influenced and nurtured by the culture in which I grew up.
I had never revealed my fetish to anyone until recently. Part of the reason for this is that sometimes I feel guilty about it: the pie in the face is, after all, a form of humiliation. Most of the time, the victim tries to avoid the pie (although I have seen a few self-pieings). I consider myself a feminist; in fact I work with twenty women and only one other man. Yet, here I am, aroused by the sight of a pretty woman being momentarily disfigured. A beautiful woman taking a pie is marred in a way: her beauty is robbed from her under a blanket of cream or meringue. Is it wrong for me to get an erection when I see such a thing? Does it show a hostility towards pretty women, or a desire to see them ridiculed and dragged down?
But then I remember that the pie in the face is harmless and silly, that this marring of beauty is very brief and is being done to a perfectly willing actress (or, perhaps, gameshow contestant). Besides, often my respect for a performer grows when I see her willingness to take a pie, flying in the face (pun intended) of the glamorous image that attractive famous women tend to cultivate. Once, I myself was hit by a pie, and it was no big deal. I thought it was funny. And, of course, it would be quite simply unpleasurable to deny this harmless fetish of mine that I've had for almost 25 years. So, instead of feeling guilty, I find myself watching reruns of The Electric Company, searching for that "Nasty" scene again ...
Soupy Sennett is the pseudonym for a film buff who loves the films of Frederico Fellini, classic Hollywood cinema, and slapstick comedy made before 1940.