My First QS Story / An Apology

[Swampficious]

Firstly, I want to apologise for lurking for the last year or two, but I had my reasons for doing so.
I want to be a proper part of the community, for now that means giving you guys anything I have to offer.

Anyways here is my first QS story.
I'd just like to point out that I'm a musician, not a writer, so...
But yeah, with that in mind, enjoy!
-----


"Failed to send."
The message blinked across the screen of the pink LG Cookie, as Clara let out a frustrated sigh.
There were only twenty more minutes before the second lecture of the day started, and Oliver was still nowhere to be seen.
And now, of ALL times, Clara had run out of credit on her phone.
She checked the time again. Even when he slept in, he was never THIS late...
There was only one thing to do then. She would have to go and top-up at the shop and ring the lazy bastard out of bed.
Probably had a wild night out last night and was hungover or something.
She left the bar where they always met, and hurriedly set off towards the closest shop.

Glancing at her watch, she realised there just wasn't time to go along the length of the street to the footbridge, just to double back
on the opposite side of the burn to get to the shop. Fortunately, she knew a shortcut.
Last autumn, a large oak tree had fallen, effectively acting as a crude bridge, with its top side a mere three inches above the water.
After rainy spells, the oak became unpassable due to the water flowing heavily over its surface, however it hadn't rained in two and a half weeks, something very odd to
happen in a British October.
She slipped through the thick bushes and ran through the few hundred metres of wooded land to the burn.

Arriving at the steep embankment, she gazed down.
All she saw was an expanse of mud, with a meagre band of water that looked no wider than a few feet, and a few inches deep, running weakly along it.
The next thing to catch Clara's attention was the oak "bridge". The bottom of it was only about a foot above the riverbed at its highest point, maybe even less.
She always thought it would be high above the bottom from the way it sat in the water, but the water was always so dirty, she could never see it.
Cautiously, she clambered down the bank, and set her foot on the tree trunk. It felt as sturdy as it ever had.
Making her way across, her mind on other things, she stepped onto some thick moss where bark had been torn away.
This made that single patch treacherously slidy. Clara lost her footing, and landed painfully on the oak.
"Dammit, got to pay attention..."
She stood up, and after quickly regaining her balance, continued acoss the burn.

---

Shortly afterwards, Clara left the shop, tucking her top-up voucher into her jacket pocket.
She'd top up during her lecture...
Her lecture!!! She was so busy getting to the shop, she had forgotten why she was in a hurry!
She looked at the clock on the town hall, further down the street.
"Shit! I only have five minutes to get back!!!"

She sprinted back towards the burn.
"What did I do with my phone...?"
She expertly leapt onto the oak, and sped across its trunk.
She remembered just moments too late about the moss patch, and her trainers lost all purchase on the log, causing her to fall.
For a dizzying moment she had no idea what was going on, until she landed hard, legs dangling down the side of the tree.
She bagan to slip down the smooth trunk.
Dazed and winded, she desperately clutched to to the moss on the tree.
For a second, she thought she had halted her fall.
The moss ripped away, and she found herself falling for the third time that morning, just to miraculously hook her arms over a sturdy branch.
Her shoulders strained, but she was able to hold on until she became less disorientated.

Clara looked up, then down, to try and work out what options she had.
She decided that she had no way to get back on top of the trunk, which only left down...
Looking back down to judge how far she had to go, she saw something metallic and pink glinting in the sunlight.
Her phone!
So, she was definitely going down then...
She gingerly lowered herself as far as she could, but because of the way she was hanging over the branch, her feet were still several inches from the ground below.
"Guess I'm going to be late now..." she muttered to herself, as she dropped to the mud below.

"What?!?"
Instead of landing on the ground as she had expected, her feet had went straight through it, her legs following them under to halfway up her shaped calves.
Within a few moments, her long socks had completely disappeared, and the mud was gripping her firmly around her bare knees.
"Ooooh.." She felt the colour rising in her cheeks.
For some strange reason, she found herself ENJOYING the sensation of the mud creeping its way up her legs...
Its firm embrace reminded her of her Fresher's week...
Of the time when her drunken flatmates thought "That'd be funny"...
Of the infamous Gellibaff Prank...



-----



Clara had just finished moving all her things into her new flat and was unpacking them.
It was half past eight, and everyone else were out drinking, but she hadn't felt up to it, and stayed behind.
Exhausted, she had run herself a bath, and lay in it reading her favourite book.
Ok, so not her favourite, but she couldn't be expected to do ALL her unpacking at once, could she?
Very soon, she had nodded off to sleep.

It wasnt long after she started dozing that one of her flatmates returned, Ollie, he called himself, and after applying liberal amounts of vomit to the walls of the toilet pan, spotted her in the bath.
Always a creative chap, he chucked the contents of a half dozen large boxes of gellibaff into the bath, chuckling to himself while he went and slept on the first place he found, this time the sofa.
While she slept, the water in the bath slowly turned into a thick gel...

Hours later, Clara opened her eyes slowly, and tried to sit up.
She wondered "What time was it? Was anyone home yet?"
And then; "Why does the water feel so heavy?"
Looking down, she gasped in shock when she realised she was effectively sitting in the middle of a VERY thick, orange gel.
She tried to push herself up off the bottom of the bath with her foot, and shivered in surprise pleasure as her legs slid along each other in the thick, tightly-holding gel.
It wasnt long before her efforts to get out of the bathtub had been abandoned for the more fruitful objective of making herself feel as good as possible.
Within a few minutes one of her hands had wandered its way down to her lower regions, and the other massaging her now very sensitive nipples.
She was moaning and groaning in pleasure, unaware that the doorway to the bathroom was now wide open, her roommate stood in it, now slightly less drunk.

She realised he was there, and simply give him a cheeky wink, and carried on.
Very soon there were two people in that bath, and the rest, as they say, is history...

Every time she thinks about that night, her hand's start to wander with a mind of their own...

-----

Clara's attention is brought back to the present by the thick mud touching her knuckles.
She hadn't even realised the mud climbing up her legs until now...
Bringing her hand back out of the waistband of her short tartan minisKirt, she tries to lift her leg hard, resulting in her sinking even deeper.
Her moistening crotch settles into the mud.
"This mud feels... nice...?" She mumbles, confused slightly, and starts rock her hips absent mindedly.
Lost in desire, she lifts her miniskirt up, and pushes her knickers down through the mud, and moans loudly as the cold earth comes into contact with her exposed womanhood.
"Mmmmmmm", she continues to rock her hips, soon humping the thick, soft mud which surrounds her with all the energy she can muster.
Sliding her fingers into herself, her heart almost stops in shock as she feels the cold muck follow her fingertips in, filling her with an agonising slowness.
"Oh, God..." Her breathing coming in short gasps as a first orgasms draws tantalisingly close, the mud starts to roll up her lower ribs, one at a time.
What she doesn't notice is that she is sinking much faster now, all of her efforts to reach orgasm making any chance of escape slimmer by the second...

Wave after wave of sheer pleasure rock her body, driving her deeper into the quaking mass around her.
She realises she has to get out now, has to stop struggling, but that thought is quickly pushed to the back of her mind as she is hit by a second stronger orgasm, lacking the self-control to stop, no matter how much she knows she must.
By now, she has sunk to her chest, left hand trapped between her legs, the right massaging her left breast beneath her mud-splattered white vest-top she is wearing.
It is not until she realises that her lower hand is being held firmly in place by the gripping mire that she begins to panic, and pulls her other hand down from the top.
She pushes down on the mud with her free hand.
It easily breaks the surface, and goes straight through until all of that arm that is left above the surface is part of her upper arm.
"Shit... How am I.. going to get.. out..?"
It takes all of her willpower to remove her fingers, and stop rocking her hips, the mud around them mixed with her own juices.

Up to her shoulders in mud, unable to move her arms, and still not touching anything solid with her feet, she starts to give up all hope of escape.
"Oh, how did I get into this mess...?" she sobs.
Then she remembers her phone.
Glancing over her shoulder to the right, she sees it part-covered on the surface of the mud, only three feet away.
Straining every muscle in her body she tries to bring one of her arms out to try and get the phone, but they are pinned tightly where they are, as the mud rolls slowly up her neck.
As the mud tickles her chin, she tilts her head back.
A single tear runs softly down her cheek, as she thinks of all the faces she would never see again.

A sillouette appears up on the oak log.
"Clara?"
She recognises the voice, but she can't place who it is.
"Oh my God! Clara! We have to get you out!!"
"Oliver..." she whispers.
"Hold on!!" Oliver takes his jacket and jumper, and attempts to make a rope from them.
"Oliver... Don't..."
"Just a second Clara" He tries to dangle the rope down to her.
Mud frames Clara's face.
"Oliver, I can't get my arms out. The rope is useless..."
Another tear runs down her face.
"Just go Oliver, there's nothing you can do."
"Nothing at all?"
"Nothing."
He shakes his head.
"I'm not going anywhere. Kirsten told me you came this way to the shop. When you were late for the lecture, I thought I'd come find you."
"How did you know I wouldn't just walk in late?"
He laughs nervously.
"Come on. A Quantum Physics lecture? You would NEVER miss that for ANYTHING... You're such a geek, you know?"
Clara laughs uneasily, as the entire surface of the mud quivers.
"Oliver..." She burst into tears.
"Oliver I l-" The rest of the sentence is cut off by the mud flowing over her mouth.
"I know, Clara, I know"
Oliver looks down, his tears hitting the mud's deceptive surface below...

[stevensenechal]

At first I thought this was just going to be another plop and sink but I was pleasantly surprised. A nice little story and you told it so well! Very good descriptions and drama.

[TBoneTony]

So sad, he finally came at the right time, but in the end it was all too late to save the girl.

I loved the drunken flashback where she was in the bath tub, and how the bath turned into thick jelly.

Even though you are more of a musician, you do have your own way with words.

Perhaps you might like to write a song about quicksand?

[PM2K]

Nicely done! Thanks for posting! Hope to see more someday.

[Swampficious]

Thanks for the feedback guys.
I might try to do another one during the week, but first I'm going to have a think about it, see if I can't come up with soething a bit different...

But yeah, either way, thanks for the kind words.

[quagmire_uk]

That was great!

Also, unlike TBoneTony I find the ending more ambiguous... he is right there, she has only just submerged, he may still have a few seconds to take some kind of action. Perhaps he jumps into the bog himself and endangers himself and pulls her up. Perhaps he rescues her while dooming himself. Perhaps it fails and they both sink. Perhaps he does not jump in and so she does not survive. We don't know how it might go. And that's great, because I'm not a big fan of grim endings (don't mind them, just not a fan), and so if there is still a tiny tiny chance of escape, even a 1 in 100 chance, that's good enough for me and and makes me feel a little more cheerful.

[Swampficious]

So, I should make my endings a bit more open?
Like, leave it so we don't know what happens, and the reader can devise their own end?

[water_bug_62208]

So, I should make my endings a bit more open?
Like, leave it so we don't know what happens, and the reader can devise their own end?

Ultimately, that decision needs to be left up to you. You wrote the story with a game plan in mind of what you wanted to achieve. If people have different interpretations of the ending, that, to me, is part of the fun of the story.

Nice story, by the way. I'm usually not a fan of sensual sinks, but the way you did the flashback to the bathtub to explain her sensual feelings, the way you made her sensual sink get her deeper into trouble, and the way you had her finally realize the seriousness of her situation, made this a very good read for me. Guess I am left wondering if Oliver really cared for her, or if he did, perhaps he didn't love her enough to risk his own life to save her. Anyway, thanks for sharing!

[Mwam]

That was great!

Also, unlike TBoneTony I find the ending more ambiguous... he is right there, she has only just submerged, he may still have a few seconds to take some kind of action. Perhaps he jumps into the bog himself and endangers himself and pulls her up. Perhaps he rescues her while dooming himself. Perhaps it fails and they both sink. Perhaps he does not jump in and so she does not survive. We don't know how it might go. And that's great, because I'm not a big fan of grim endings (don't mind them, just not a fan), and so if there is still a tiny tiny chance of escape, even a 1 in 100 chance, that's good enough for me and and makes me feel a little more cheerful.

I agrre! I like the non-grim ending stories. Maybe you could writing a 2nd part of it Swampficous.....
Anyway, it a really good story i liked it every seconds, the jellybath scene was amazing, and funny. Congratulation.