Quicky Sanders: Emergency Call

[Viridian]

Investigative reporter Sanders has found herself in a place she shouldn't be, and the criminals are making sure she never stumbles across them again. If she could loosen the ropes, she might have a chance to escape the quicksand, but she's sinking fast. Her phone rings. Maybe she can call for help, but it's out of reach. She tries to shuffle towards her lifeline, but the phone is disappearing quickly - and so is she!

[PM2K]

Love it! Great to see your artwork again, too.

[sixgunzloaded]

Great job Viridian! I like the position she's in in the bog. Good coloring and consistency of the mud too! Thanks!

[mudmaiden]

Nice !

[MadMax359]

always love a bound reporter in a mudpit!

[Viridian]

Bringing this back with a massive re-draw and new back story.

Sanders had all she needed for the scoop. Putting the phone into her handbag, she wiped the sweat from her brow and began to make her way out of the woods, her elation at uncovering the secret operations in the forest overcoming her discomfort at wearing heels - a result of a last-minute tip-off. The photos, along with the rest of the evidence in her file, would catapult the young investigative journalist into the spotlight.

Distracted by visions of grandeur, Sanders wasn't watching where she was going.

Her heels dug into the soft earth. Caught off by the sticky mud that now held her heels firmly, Sanders tugged and strained in an attempt to free her feet. With some effort, she wrenched one foot free, but with her other foot still stuck, she lost her balance. She whirled around, flailing her arms, hoping to catch something before she fell. Glancing behind her, she spotted a branch overhead. Though well out of reach, she whipped out her hand in a fruitless attempt to grab it. Unable to prevent her fall, she spun around and landed with a loud splat in the muddy clearing.

Sanders let out a sigh, her clumsiness dampening her previous excitement. She propped herself onto her elbows and took stock of her situation. She was on her back in a wide expanse of soft, spongy sediment, some kind of former pond or stream. The mud felt thick and heavy where she was soaked, clinging to her shirt, her miniskirt and her shapely legs. To her right, her handbag had landed and flipped open, spilling out some of its contents, including her phone. On top of all that, her awkward fall had caused the buttons on her shirt to pop off, exposing her well-endowed chest. Fantastic, she thought to herself. She was going back to the office covered in mud with her bra on display.

But she had a sinking feeling that things were only going to get worse.

She had landed butt-first in the muddy clearing, and the mud didn't seen to want to let go. She felt a strong suction against her toned cheeks, and she shuddered uncomfortably as the moisture and mud soaked through her skirt. Yet that discomfort was nothing compared to the realisation that the mud beneath felt like it was wobbling and moving around her. She looked down with surprise as the sediment seemed to rise around her hips and, seconds later, closed over her lower abdomen like a soft, giant hand.

Sensing that it was time to get out, Sanders tried to wriggle free, but the sandy mud tightened its grip. Unable to loosen the mud around her abdomen, she tried pushing up with her legs to get leverage. Her right foot became stuck, and her attempts to pull it free were of no use. She pushed with her left leg, but this resulted in her leg plunging into the muck until it surrounded her knee, trapped both legs. Even if she could loosen the suction, her skirt made it nearly impossible for her to move freely.

Flustered at the inescapable trap, she pushed off with her arms to lift her upper body. She realised, too late, that this was also a horrible mistake. Both her arms sank into the soft sediment, and now she had no leverage to pull any of her limbs out. She looked at the enveloping mud with frustration. Not only was it refusing to let her go, it was keen on stripping her of modesty, tugging at her sleeves and shirt so that more of her bosom was exposed.

Then she paused. She only now noticed the faint sound of water moving through the sand, gurgling, bubbling. She could now see the glistening ripples over the surface, gently moving around her. She could feel the sediment loosening beneath her, growing softer, liquefying...

She was in quicksand.

She had read reports about hikers encountering quicksand in these woods. She had made an effort to avoid the danger spots on the way in, but her excitement in making a hasty exit led her right into a soft spot. The sand was liquefying fast, and she could feel her body settling deeper, her weight causing displacing more of the sand and trapping her deeper. She resumed her struggles, yanking at her arms and legs, but she stopped when this only drove her deeper. She was trapped in the worst possible position. Her arms were fully submerged, and her legs began to slide into the quaking bog. Soon, all that would remain above the surface would be her head, shoulders and heaving chest.

She felt an odd vibration in the sand. She turned her head to see where it was coming from, and she saw her lifeline. The office was calling her phone. She could call for help.

If she could get her arms free.

Seeing her last chance rapidly disappearing, herself also disappearing into the deadly quicksand, Sanders gritted her teeth and turned her body towards her phone.

Would the journalist be able to free her arms? Could she call for help? Would help arrive in time before she was consumed by the quicksand?

[MadMax359]

i love the drama... keep struggling, Quicky!

[sixgunzloaded]

What a beautiful update of this scene! Quicky looks fantastic and the backstory is fun and dramatic. Just the way I like 'em! Thanks for sharing this and all your others (equally well done) as well!