Party

[PM2K]

Party by PM2K (2015)

Syndee staggers from the tent trailer, her curvaceous form struggling to maintain balance to the hard beat of technodrums and screaming guitars. Her long shoulder length hair is bushy, teased into a wild mane of shocking pink with blond undertones. Her large tanned breasts swing free, unconstrained by any kind of shirt, and are streaked with day-glo pink body paint, as is her torso and slightly rounded belly. Tight light blue jeans paint her legs.
Stepping off of the short metal steps hanging beneath the entrance of the wheeled shelter, she grunts on impact as her bare feet slap on the grassy field, sparks seeming to rush through her body to make her head swim.
"Oh... fuck.... fuck me..." Syndee slurs. She hates this part... when the weed hits the road before she's ready and splatters against the sea of Coors and vodka coolers swirling around inside her gut.
"Hey! Hey Syndee! You gonna yak?"
The slurred voice is Danny's, the owner of the trailer. Inside, a chorus of impaired laughter follows. Once members of the same graduating class, the small group were now college kids from all over getting together to relive their high school days.
"I'll yak on you if I'm gonna..." she growls, swallowing hard against the cold greasy feeling creeping up her throat.
The comment sparks more laughter. Syndee manages a weak smile. If the positions were reversed, she's be one of the ones leading the ribbing.
Concentrating, she breathes deeply and slowly, drawing in as much fresh air as possible. In a short while, her head stops spinning.

The summer bush party has been a tradition at their school for decades, and over time morphed into an open air rock festival, centered on the Brundy Farm. It was popular and affordable, featuring all of the region's top bar bands, along with a handful of high school acts just starting out, hitting the stage one after another all weekend long.
The police turned a blind eye to the activities on the property, as long as no one got behind the wheel afterwards, a policy enforced by several roadblocks set up to check drivers' sobriety. The farm's isolation meant no noise complaints, and the fields around it served as makeshift parking lots and tent and trailer parks.
Beyond that was a heavy screen of forest and wetlands, which dampened the concert sounds generated by several thousand people significantly.

"You okay, Syn?"
Syndee turns towards the face sticking out of the trailer's canvas flap. Meiyah's sharp, handsome features are illuminated by the glow of campfires and distant concert lights, the legacy of her Algonquin heritage. Unlike the others, she is sober, never developing nor desiring a taste for alcohol or intoxicants. Mineral water with lime was her beverage of choice, and she gladly shouldered the burden and responsibility of designated driver.
"Yeah... getting there..." Syndee laughs weakly. The crisp late summer air helped a lot, but so did time away from the weed and booze.
Meiyah smiles warmly at Syndee, then climbs out of the trailer. Tall and athletic, she wears a bright yellow t-shirt and short denim cutoffs, which highlighted her long, well toned legs. Leather sandals grace her feet. Her straight black hair has been woven into a long braid, which hangs over her left shoulder.
She gently steers Syndee away from the trailer, from which emanates the bubbling sounds of a bong being used. Meiyah wasn't judgmental, but couldn't understand why people wanted to mess themselves up like that.
"Come on, Syndee, let's check out the bands..." she says. The grounds were all grass, so her friend's lack of footwear shouldn't pose a problem.
Syndee nods slowly. She is pretty wasted, but is aware enough to sense the wisdom of getting away from Danny's dope den.
"Just a sec..." she says, and flinches, suddenly feeling a sharp stab in her groin. Her bladder feels like it is ready to explode, and she groans. "I gotta take care of this, first..."
Meiyah's eyebrows rise in reaction, but all she says in reply is to offer her help.
"S'okay... I can manage..." she slurs, then wanders into the woods.

The music fades into the night, reduced to a steady thudding. The horizon glows from the lights, but out here among the trees and brush, it doesn't illuminate much.
"Ow! Fuck!"
Syndee grabs her right foot, having stubbed it for what seems like the 300th time. She curses herself for leaving her flip flops behind in the trailer, then a whimper escapes her as she once again becomes aware of the pain radiating from her bladder.
Dammit... where the hell am I?
In the dark, senses dulled, she quickly becomes disorientated. Looking around, she can barely hear the music anymore, much less see the campground.
Well... if I can't see them...
Nearly hunched over, Syndee decides she cannot bear it any more, and reaches down to unbutton her jeans to relieve herself... and promptly loses her balance.
Stumbling forward in an effort to keep from falling on her face, she manages a few quick steps before the ground betrays her by sloping sharply downward. With a cry, she feels herself plummeting forward, and twists herself so she lands on her side. The impact drives the breath out of her body, and she both rolls and slides out of control down a steep embankment.
Roots and branches slap and claw at her, but luckily, Syndee doesn't hit anything which could cause her permanent damage, missing several large rocks by a hairs width. Her descent ends with a final three foot drop off, and she lands with a soft thud.
The impact is the final straw for her aching bladder, which lets go with a hot gush, soaking her jeans. At first, she tries to hold the flood back, but the relief is so total, almost orgasmic, that she relaxes and lets her bladder twist itself empty, uttering a long moan as she does so.
After a time, Syndee finds the strength to sit up, and slowly takes stock of the situation. She's intact, for one. Nothing broken. Maybe a few scratches. And she's soaked in piss.
"Dammit!" The smell of urine is pretty sharp, and she wrinkles her nose. I can't go back like this... I'll never hear the end of it.
The hope of rinsing herself off somewhere seems remote. The campsite wasn't serviced, and to walk through the crowds to a water station... no. That's impossible. I stink like one of the porta-potties.
Then, her ears pick up a sound. It sounds like... no... it couldn't be...
Syndee staggers to her feet, able to see better thanks to the moonlight. She is standing in a washed out area, the bank exposed by erosion. Under her feet is a mix of sand, clay and stones, indicating recent water action.
She feels herself beginning to grin. That's right... the river! It forms the extreme edge of the farm's property, and she is standing at its high water mark. The spring had been particularly rough, with its combination of a record snowfall, a rapid melt and heavy rains leading to flooding everywhere, the worst in 100 years. She had fallen into one of the gullies carved out by the flood waters.
She walks forward, following the sound of water and the traces of run off. If I'm lucky, I should find a shallow pool or calm part of the river to wade into and rinse myself off. Wet jeans will dry quickly enough, and as long as they don't reek of piss, it'll be fine...
Syndee feels her head beginning clear, too. No longer hammered, she feels a pleasant buzz take hold. Maybe a little swim is just what the doctor ordered.

The trek is fairly easy. Syndee follows the path the melt waters took, and except for the occasional small stone, the ground is kind to her bare feet, warm and slightly damp. The channels she walks along weave around and under rocks, large humps of landscape and fallen trees. The sound of running water is getting louder, and her mind fixes on the thought of getting wet.
Syndee rounds a bend in the water course and spots the river, its gentle waters sparkling in the distance. She is in luck. The current seems slow here, and as long as she stays close to the bank, she should be all right.
Between her and the river is a small expanse of sand, lying in a slight depression. A half sunk log lies embedded on the far side of the sand bank, through which a small creek runs, on its way to join the river. She also notices several shallow puddles scattered about its surface.
Syndee pays no further thought to this, intent on reaching the river. She takes several long strides across the sand, noticing on the third of these the ground didn't feel exactly.... solid. Instead, the sand bends weirdly under her weight, as if she is standing atop a water bed, and she notices her feet getting wet from a thin skin of water oozing out...
On her fourth stride, Syndee feels her feet push through a doughy mixture of sand and clay, and before she knows what is happening, her jean-clad legs have glided smoothly into it, sinking her past her knees in the wet ground.
"What the fuck...?"
Syndee tries to extract her legs but despite her efforts, finds she isn't able to break the sand's tight grip on her limbs. She wiggles her hips, thrashing in place, hoping to wrest herself loose, but instead...
...she finds she is forcing herself in deeper, sinking quickly to her thighs in the gooey slurry. The sand around her wobbles and quakes in response to her movements, and it is only when she settles to her upper thighs, her crotch a mere two fingers' width from its trembling surface that she realizes she is in serious trouble.
"Oh, crap... crap!"
Syndee stops moving. Her legs are held firmly in soft, wet vices which jiggle against her like a gritty jelly, making her aware of how the sloppy mass shifts around her with her every breath.
Deep beneath the sand, her bare feet are encased, and yet there isn't hint of anything firm beneath her... just more muck. Wiggling in place as she tries once more to ease herself out, she instead feels the sand suck her down another inch, and begin to press against her crotch.
A weird image flashes through Syndee's mind. An old black and white movie. Two men, carrying things looted from a hidden city. A jungle man appears, and forces them into a pool of muck much like what she is now wallowing in. The men flail about helplessly as the muck swallows them up with wet slurping sounds, leaving only their hands waving above the surface....

"Oh, Jesus... quicksand!"
Syndee doesn't believe she just blurted that out loud, but now that she did, it became an undeniable fact. She somehow managed to get herself ass-deep in quicksand at a rock festival, which wasn't on her list of things to be careful of, like spiked drinks and horny gropers who don;t ask permission before...
Okay, girl.... don't panic...
Arms akimbo, Syndee struggles to keep calm. She feels herself slowly settling deeper into the quaking mass with each passing moment. It seems like sand, but there is a lot of semi-liquid clay mixed in as well, forming a perfect trap.
The spring thaw and the flooding... it must have supersaturated the ground here... pushing up the water table... she thinks, as the rubbery quicksand (clay?) reaches the waistband of her jeans. Helluva time to be remembering her geomorphology course...
Looking around, the area lit brightly by the full moon, Syndee sees nothing close by she can grab onto. No branch, no clump of grass, nothing! Her feet still don't sense anything solid beneath them, and she can feel herself continuing to sink. She shudders as the gritty slime laps at her belly, forming a slight rounded ridge around her body resembling hungry lips.
How deep is this shit, anyway? Could it really be bottomless?
Not wanting to wait and find out, Syndee tries to free herself again, placing her hands on the quivering surface to try and gain some leverage. For a few moments, the surface holds, bending under the pressure she exerts, while wiggling her pelvis from side to side. Slowly, she rises up, and manages to force her belt buckle to the surface...
"Yes!" she shouts.
Then her hands melt through the mud, plunging her to her elbows. Her belly quickly vanishes again, and Syndee cries out as she settled even deeper than when she had started pushing, with the quicksand now jiggling around the middle of her rib cage.
"Oh, no... no! Crap!"
She pulls hard on her arms, and finds they are now stuck in the soft trap. Panic overtakes her, and Syndee struggles desperately to free herself, knowing her arms and hands have to be loose if she is to have any hope of escape. Thrashing hard against the sand clay slurry, she leans back hard, and slowly feels the mire lessen its grip on her arms.
Pulling steadily, she cries out in reaction to the strain which seems to be ripping her arms apart... then grunts as her right arm pops free. She uses it to pull her left arm out, grasping it by the elbow to do so.
Panting from the effort, Syndee tries to rest for a moment, and then feels the mud press underneath her breasts. That was the price she paid to get her arms out.
Realizing how deep she is now, and still sinking, she comes to the conclusion she is truly fucked. In her mind's eye, she replays the movie scene, only it is her thrashing about and being sucked under the sloppy mud, her cries smothered by liquid earth, which fills her mouth and stops up her nose... leaving only bubbles to mark her grave...
Oh, God... I'm going to die! I'm going to drown in this slop and leave no traces and no one will ever find my body! No one will ever know what happened to me... I'll disappear from the earth, forever...
"Help! Someone.... help me!"
Syndee starts yelling, even though she knows it is unlikely anyone will hear. The concert is far away, and where most folks are, if they weren't drunk, stoned or passed out. Yet, she yells anyway, in the faint hope someone might save her from...

"You know... I swear I can't take my eyes off of you for a moment without you getting into trouble..."
A flashlight beam strikes Syndee, then sweeps over the quicksand pool she is stuck in. Looking over her shoulder, she squints against the glare, then her eyes focus upon a familiar silhouette.
"Meiyah! Thank God!" she says, trying not to sob in relief. "Where the hell have you been?"
Meiyah smiles at Syndee's response. It is so her.
"I went to get a flashlight, figuring you can't see in the dark..." she replies. "But I guess you really needed to go, because you were gone by the time I got back..."
"How did you find me?" Syndee asks. "I mean... I know you know your way around the bush..."
Meiyah laughs. It is a friendly sound, warm and welcoming. It also sends warm shivers through Syndee, like it always did.
"Now that sounds suggestive..." she says. "You're not trying to seduce me, are you?"
Syndee blushes. It was an open secret she had a huge crush on Meiyah, but never acted on it. She often joked about it, but deep down... she was scared she'd lose her friend if she did...
"You know what I mean..." she mutters.
Meiyah nods, grinning broadly.
"Oh... I think so..." she replies, "but the truth is, you left a trail so clear a blind man could follow it. Stealthy, you are not..."
The quicksand burbles quietly, and Syndee drops down another inch. Her nipples have been claimed by the jelly sand, which oozes its slimy way inside her cleavage.
"Can... can we talk about this later?" she gasps. "I really need help getting out of here..."
Meiyah nods, her face becoming serious.
"Hang on... I'm coming..." she says, and begins to make her way over to Syndee. Her friend's sudden look of alarm stops her in her tracks.
"No! Stay back!" Syndee cries out. "I think this is quicksand!"
Meiyah stares for a moment, then once more uses her flashlight to scan the ground. She notices it jiggling, ever so slightly, a sluggish movement which increases in tempo the closer it gets to Syndee.
"Quicksand? Maybe..." she says. Slipping out of her sandals, Meiyah moves slowly forward, using her bare feet to carefully test the stability of the ground. It is warm and moist underfoot, and she senses a certain springiness beneath her.
"Oh, God... Meiyah! What are you doing?" Syndee exclaims. She has sunk to her armpits, the tops of her breasts forming fleshy hemispheres emerging from the muck. She rests her arms atop its quivering surface, careful not to let them sink any further in.
"Don't move... I'm trying something..." Meiyah replies. She gets within ten feet of Syndee when the ground liquifies, dropping her down to her knees in the gluey morass. Her eyes widen with alarm, then she plants her arms behind herself and swiftly arches herself backwards, her butt striking the more solid mud with a smack. Now in a seated position, she uses her arms and hips to scrabble backwards, extracting her long legs from the quicksand with some difficulty. The sandy slime releases her at last with a wet slurp, leaving a thick gray coating on her legs.
"Oh, Meiyah... you scared the hell out of me..." Syndee says. "If you get stuck, we're both goners..."
"Yeah... wouldn't that be something..." Meiyah says, her voice shaking a bit. She can still see her friend's footprints leading to where she is sunk, and yet she barely made half that distance before...
"Syndee..." she says quietly. "Whatever you do... don't move... not even an inch... no matter what."
"Huh? As if I could move..." Syndee replies. "This shit is pretty thick..."
"Just don't, okay?" Meiyah says, backing away off of the sand. Even now, what had been solid moments before is becoming softer by the moment.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Syndee says, her voice wavering. "Don't leave me, Meiyah!"
"I can't get close to you..." she replies. "The whole area is loosening up... this is all quicksand! You moving about is making it worse."
"Oh God..." Syndee says quietly.
"That's why I'm getting a rope!" Meiyah says. "Just stay still! I'll be right back to get you out of there!"
She stares helplessly as she watches Meiyah dash off, flashlight in hand. Her sandals remain where she left them atop the sand, a silent promise she'll be back.
"Hurry..." Syndee whispers after her. "Please hurry..."

It takes Meiyah ten minutes to get to the trailer. The interior is pungent with marijuana, but empty of people, save for Danny. He lies sprawled in a corner, naked and snoring away. She shakes her head, then rummages around the interior.
Where the hell is it? she thinks. Where? Dammit... you keep bragging about going camping all the damn time... you should have rope somewhere...
Not finding what she is seeking, Meiyah retrieves the keys hidden inside Danny's shorts, which lie crumpled in the corner, then dashes outside. The pick up truck is parked beside the trailer, and she uses the keys to pop open the metal cover covering the vehicle's bed.
Where? Where? There!
Meiyah grabs the coil of hemp rope, which she suspected (hoped) was there, and quickly closes up the truck. Taking a moment to toss the keys back into the trailer, she runs back into the woods, the rope hanging off her left shoulder, the flashlight in her right fist. Her footing is deft and sure, her efforts egged on by the urgency of the situation.
Hang on, Syndee... she silently pleads. Hang on...
She reaches the site of the quicksand pool, and for a moment can't find her trapped friend. Her stomach turns to ice as her eyes scan the moonlit sand pit, and pick up no trace...
Oh God, no... no...
Then...
Oh, Lord...
Meiyah's dark eyes lock on Syndee, and is shocked to see how deep she has sunk. Only the tops of her shoulders, neck and head remain above the surface, her arms are embedded in the quicksand's sucking surface.
She doesn't have much time left...

"Syndee! I'm here! Don't give up!" Meiyah shouts.
Syndee looks slowly over her shoulder, and sighs. She shakes her head.
"No... stay back... don't come out... don't risk your life... for me..." she says quietly. "It's too late... I'm done for..."
"Don't be stupid!" Meiyah snaps. She runs over to the nearest anchor point, a tree toppled by the spring floods, and sets down the flashlight. Both hands free, she quickly ties one end of the rope around the tree. Tugging it hard, she looks around to Syndee. Even as she watches, her shoulders slip under, the quicksand slowly flowing over them.
Without hesitation, she strips off her shirt, revealing her firm breasts and lean curves. Her belly is flat, skin an even bronze color. With a flip of her head, Meiyah sends her braid backwards to lie on her back, then, gripping the rope, makes her way out onto the quicksand.
"Meiyah... no..." Syndee says, the muck surrounding her neck. "Please... I don't want you to die, too..."
"No one is going to die..." Meiyah says, calmly yet firmly. "Hang tough! I'm coming..."
Like before, she feels her way across the sand, mindful of where she had sunk before. The whole landscape seems to be quaking, but so far, the surface is holding her up.
Reaching the spot she had sunk into before, Meiyah falls to her knees, then slowly falls forward, lying prone atop the wobbling sand bog. She flinches at the sensation of being licked from neck to toes by the grainy slurry. Her nipples stiffen, stimulated by the quicksand she is crawling over, and her shorts rapidly become heavy and sodden with soaking up its wetness.
Ignoring it, she concentrates on crawling forward, while maintaining a grip on the rope. It's only ten feet...

Chin deep, Syndee watches Meiyah fight her way through the quicksand, making swimming motions as she struggles to make headway. The sand around and beneath her keeps turning into thick sludge, and makes obscene slopping sounds as it sucks hard on her...
"Meiyah... please... go back..." she says. "I'm going under... can't stay up..."
"Stop with that negative talk..." Meiyah says, panting from the effort, her chin and face streaked with mud. Each time she gets a foot ahead, the mire drags her back, forcing her to lunge further ahead to make any sort of progress. More alarmingly, she can feel her legs beginning to slip below the surface.
"Meiyah... I have to tell you something... before it is too late..." Syndee says, twisting her head around to try and keep wet earth out of her mouth.
"You can tell me later, once we're on solid ground..." Meiyah replies. She has managed to get two feet closer, clawing through the muck with her left hand while clinging onto the rope looped around her right wrist... Quicksand has flowed over the small of her back, leaving only her shoulder blades exposed to the warm night air. Her eyes maintain a lock on Syndee's, which burn with a mix of hope and despair. The quicksand quavers and slaps against her face, drawing it down with every ripple.
"Meiyah... Mei... mmmph!"
The sandy mire claims her mouth, and Meiyah sees her eyes widen in fright. Her nostrils flare, taking in as much air as possible.
"Dammit, Syndee... don't give up now!" she says, creeping towards her. Another foot... just another...
Meiyah feels the rope tighten in her hand, and to her shock finds it is too short... she can't get any closer. She lunges forward, her hand slapping the thick sand next to Syndee, and falls short.
"No!"
She can hear Syndee's murmurs beneath the muck, which become frantic and bubbling as her nose slips under. Her eyes plead helplessly...
"Oh... God... God!"
Meiyah strains to get a grip... any kind of grip... on her friend. She uses her left hand like a steam shovel, digging trenches in the quicksand, feeling for anything she can grab onto, but cannot find....
Syndee closes her eyes as she slips under, a spray of bubbles left in her wake. A shallow dent full of pink muddy hair floats briefly before vanishing in a thick swirl of gritty slime...

Meiyah stares helplessly as Syndee disappears. If only the rope wasn't so short... if only...
"Dammit!"
Her face set in grim determination, she releases the rope and lunges forward, plunging both arms deep into the spot where Syndee had slipped under even as she settled to her shoulders. Her forearms brush past ears, fingers brush shoulders, and as she grasps the still warm body beneath the morass, Meiyah feels herself being rapidly sucked under... anchored as she is to Syndee.
Neck deep in moments, she knows the only real hope of survival is to let go of Syndee... but that isn't an option she is prepared to pursue.
"Syndee... oh, God... Syn...mmpff! Mmngh!"
Meiyah slides under quickly in the churned up slurry, barely able to take a breath before her head submerges. The quicksand roils and burbles, heaves and bubbles, reflecting the desperate struggle for life being held below its turgid surface... then it slowly calms.

Long moments pass.
Then, a hand erupts from the slime, bursting through the surface into the night air. It feels around frantically, seeking something... then grasping the rope which still lies atop the wet sand. The end being held disappears with the hand into the shivering mass, then tightens.
Slowly, the hand reemerges, to be replaced by a second hand, placed in front of it. Then the first hand moves forward to get in front of it...
Hand over hand, Meiyah slowly emerges from the deadly sand, her head a hump in the slime which thickly runs off its sides... Her mouth opens wide, sputtering and gasping, drawing in sweet air. She continues to haul herself forward... behind her, a second head appears... coughing out mouthfuls of sand.
Thickly coated in the clay sand mixture, Syndee clings to Meiyah's back, too weak to do anything else. She feels Meiyah's body flex and squirm beneath her, and marvels at her strength.
In time, Meiyah claws her way onto firmer ground, relieved it isn't dissolving under her like the rest of the ground had been. She feels Syndee stir, and is relieved when her friend reaches over to grasp the rope on her own.
Finally, the pair lie side by side on the shoreline of firm ground, utterly spent. They use their hands and fingers to wipe the worst of the sand clear of their faces and eyes, and dug it out of their ears. Music from the festival can be heard in the background, but neither is paying attention to it.
After a long period of silence, Syndee rolls over on her side. Meiyah glances over, amusement glittering in her expression.
"So... you wanted to tell me something?" she says.
Syndee nods, looking nervous.
"I didn't have the guts to say so before..." she says, "but I mean, we almost died... and..."
"I'm listening..." Meiyah says.
"Um... okay..." Syndee stammers. "I... I love you. I always have... I just never said because... well... I wasn't sure how you'd react..."
She is surprised to see Meiyah grinning at her through the mud.
"I knew that! I've always known that... Everyone knows that. It's the worst kept secret ever..." she says.
"Really?" Syndee replies. "You don't mind?"
Meiyah rolls over and crawls closer to Syndee. She surprises her by grasping her face in her hands.
"I only mind that it took you this long to say it..." Meiyah says quietly, and plants a passionate kiss on Syndee's mouth.

[cnelson566]

Excellent story! Took a while to finish it....not because it wasn't great, but because while reading it, in the middle, a storm knocked my power out! Had to wait a couple hours, power finally came back on, and i finished! How that for a dramatic reading! haha.

[Stephymink]

Fantastic. That was a beautiful story. I love Meiyah's determination to rescue Syndee. <3

[lenscap]

Great story! Always nice to see a happy ending pulled out of the mire

[sixgunzloaded]

This was fantastic PM2K! Well written and captivating all the way through. And a fun ending too! I don't save most of the qs stories I read, though many of them have been good. But this one I saved because I want to read it again. Exceptional. Nice work and thank you!

sixgunsloaded

[PM2K]

Thanks for the kind words. everyone!

[water_bug_62208]

Outstanding story! Simply love the brilliance of your writing skills. Your attention to detail are always wonderful... you touch on sights, sounds, and smells... you set up and describe a world that we can all visualize in our own ways. Spectacular!

This story was certainly filled with fun, comedy, drama, and suspense. You do such a beautiful job at putting us right there in the middle of the action. Great effort and heroism on Meiyah's part to save Syndee. Your stories always have an element of excitment, and ya really don't know the outcome of the story until you read it all the way through.

Thanks for sharing!