The Last Serenade
Posted: Wed Jun 06, 2018 6:03 pm
It took forever, but here is my tribute.
This story is dedicated to our dear, departed friend, the great and incomparable PM2K. We type your name with pride.
The Last Serenade
“Did anyone hear that?”
Becky stood from where she sat with the homestead’s twelve other young women, knitting by candlelight. She made her way over to the window to peer out into the moonlit night.
“Hear what, Becky?” her younger sister Hanna asked.
“I thought I heard some shouting,” Mary spoke up. “I swear it was half of our folks raising their voices at some stranger I never heard before.”
Before she knew it, Becky was suddenly crowded before the tiny, four-paned window, ruining her discreet approach. “Hey, what are you all doing?”
“We wanna’ see too,” Tilly whined. Her tall, blonde appearance somehow made her seem even more bratty. “Don’t ya’ go hogging the window!”
“Will everybody just cut it out?!” Mia hissed from the corner. “We’re not supposed to go outside. Obviously whatever they’re doing is none of our business.”
Ignoring her, the other girls gathered around the window, gawking like schoolchildren. Becky covered the candle with her hand, hoping to get a better view just as the voices began dying down. From jeers and boos came sounds of relief and victory, including a few sophomoric whoops from the younger men. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be visible from that angle.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” Hanna complained.
“Hanna, language.” Becky chided. “They catch you saying that they’ll wash your mouth out with a washboard and put it through the wringer.”
“See anything?”
Becky squinted, trying to make out shapes in the moonlight. Even with a full moon in the sky, the empty expanse of the plains still stretched into infinite darkness. Settlers were not accustomed to the endlessness of the horizon, and often developed an acute agoraphobia from being exposed to it.
Suddenly, movement.
“I think I see him!” she whispered, and everyone around her tensed.
Out into view stepped a furry, four-legged animal.
“What do you see?” Hanna urged her.
She sighed in disappointment. “Just a coyote.” The girls began dispersing with a few moans, but her wide-eyed younger sister leapt to the window to gawk at the novel event in her monotonous life.
“Wow, I’ve never seen one so close before. They’re usually so afraid when we get close.”
“Yeah, you’ll get bored of seeing them critters after you’ve been here a’while,” Tilly drawled. “A bunch o’ furry little fleabags the lot of ‘em.”
“Alright everyone, let’s get ready for bed.” Becky chided them. “It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”
“Un huh,” Mia droned from her bed. “Like every other day has been and ever will be. Let’s face it: nothing ever happen out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Hanna was still staring out the window when their mother came in to gently usher them to bed. The room was instantly filled with “alrights”, “yes ma’ams”, and “okays”, accompanied by the rustle of covers, pillows, and voluminous bedclothes. Hanna was pried away from the window, which here eyes continuously followed as she was urged by her shoulders to the bed she shared with Becky. “Momma, what was going on out there?”
“Oh, nothing important dear.” She responded with that sweet, motherly voice characteristic of good, pious, puritanical settlers. “You see, we finally solved our gopher problem.”
“Really?” Mary lit up from her bed. “Does that mean no more bad crops? We’ll get a full yield from now on.”
“Absolutely. And best of all, the man who did it agreed to do it all free of charge for those doing the Lord’s work. Isn’t that sweet?” The girls all nodded in agreement, shocked at the stranger’s incredible generosity. “Well, goodnight girls. Tomorrow is a very important day.”
Halfhearted agreements followed her pronouncement. Then the candles were blown out one by one, bathing the girl’s cabin in darkness. As they all drifted soundly to sleep, Becky kept staring at the ceiling in pitch darkness, wondering if anything interesting would ever happen to her in the insignificant spot in the middle of nowhere.
The early morning saw Becky and her sister scrubbing pots and pans caked with grease from the men’s hearty breakfast. After that would come the clothes, which would take the rest of the entire morning. Being modest, faithful settlers, they would never be caught dead wearing anything short of ankle-long, long-sleeved dresses, two layers of neck-high blouses always buttoned to the top, over bloomers, topped off with a plain, thick headscarf. Sure, the environment was hardly compatible with dress from snow-capped mountains and temperate forests, but if any stranger was to pass through the homestead, the first thing he would see was that the warm climate had not pressured these virtuous homesteaders to immodesty. That was worth more than a bit of discomfort.
It hardly mattered what a task it created in washing all of those clothes.
Mary stepped in, carrying a wide basket. “Morning, girls. Daddy got some more soap done, so I thought I would bring you some to help with the cleaning.”
“Thanks Mary,” Becky responded, graciously taking the load from her friend. Mary was an attractive girl Becky’s age, and always livened up the group of girls with her eager, outgoing attitude. Her family had come out to the frontier after the war had ended slavery in the South, sending them after new beginnings. Slightly shorter than the cream-skinned, brunette farmer’s daughter from the North, Mary’s dark, mocha-colored skin was a pleasant contrast to the majority of the homesteaders in the region. Her ample hips, heavy bust, and motherly belly spoke of her family’s hard work and produce. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the evening?”
“Yeah, I should, but there’s still work to be done all the same. The mothers are getting the girls and boys to all play their part and tailoring their fine clothes. Honestly, I would enjoy a simple wedding in whatever we have to wear. What good are all the bow ties and frilly dresses out here in the middle of nowhere? We even had to wait two extra days to get a preacher we don’t know out here from who knows where.”
Hanna smirked. “Don’t ever let momma hear you say that. We’re supposed to be civilized, y’know. Civilized folk don’t go around marrying each other in their working clothes.”
Mary laughed, but it was cautious. “True enough. I’m glad to have been a free, family girl for as long as I have. Anyone you fancy, Hanna?”
“Not me. But maybe the Bradley boy will ask.”
“You don’t want him, trust me,” Becky responded. “You want someone who will give you some space and take up the burden once in a while. Not a manly man who’ll go out and play dice with the boys while you haul the grain just ‘cause Eve got her man in hot water.”
“Is that how it is with you and Eric?”
Becky smiled solemnly, but kept her calm. “Now you never mind him. He’s my husband and so he’s my business only.”
“We need new blood in this place. Maybe a wagon will come by eventually and we’ll have more options.” Hanna had come of age just weeks before, and harbored a fantasy of a Prince Charming who would never actually be burdened to wander out into the untamed wilderness to find his Cinderella.
“Well, it seems everyone’s busy with their own chores, so I guess I’ll just muster off and make sure the windows are clean.” Mary turned heel to leave, but halted before she reached the door. “Did any of you hear something just now?”
“Like what?” Becky asked curiously.
“Like…a whistle…you know what, never mind. All this wind must be getting to me.” With a chuckle and a shrug, she hopped out the open door.
Becky shook her head in amusement. “She has the energy of ten mustangs.”
“I know.” Her little sister finished scrubbing the bottom of the Dutch oven. “That man she’s marrying had better have a lot of energy.” They laughed like good-natured sisters do as they finished the last of their drudgery.
Becky was just patting her skirt dry when Hanna spoke up. “What is that?”
She tilted her head. “What is what?”
“Listen,” her sister pressed.
Becky put her laundry down and closed her eyes concentrating. Just the wind, wind, and more wind.
And then…somewhere in all that wind blowing through the grass and against the cabins…a whistle.
She could barely make it out, but there was no mistaking it. Not only was it an unusually pitched whistle, but it was also the most unnatural sound she had heard in a long time in the prarie. It seemed a bit of a ways away, and yet the young settler girl could easily recognize an unmistakable signature.
It was a melody.
“What is that?” Hanna asked, astounded.
“It’s so…so…lovely,” Becky smiled a smile she had not smiled in a long time.
“Yeah, it is.” Hanna sounded almost dazed. Neither of them had ever heard such a sound before. “I’m going to see where it’s coming from.”
Becky shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was trying to tell her sister that it was too dangerous, and that it was forbidden to wander from the cabins at these hours. Instead, all that came out was: “Yeah, me too.”
The two girls walked out the door and looked around. “There,” Becky indicated. “It’s definitely from that direction.”
“What’s over there?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never gone in that direction before.”
Her sister smiled one of her youthful, sophomoric smiles. “Let’s go see. We’ll be back before mommy and daddy know we’re gone.”
They followed the strange melody, its hauntingly pleasant tune drawing them away from safety. In their minds, they were not going far and they would be right back; what reason could there be to worry, or make their families worry? They barely paid any mind to the other girls leaving their cabins, their wash bins and clotheslines, all going in the same direction, all inquiring as to the same alien music. Some were chatting over the unknown that had drawn them out there. Others seemed almost lost in the pleasant sound; the only instruments they had were a couple of fiddles, a guitar, and banjo, their strings varyingly frayed and now rarely played. A valuable beauty was music in this untamed wilderness, and this one moreso given that not one girl in the group had ever heard this particular sound before.
It may have been minutes, or an hour, but the next time Becky bothered to look behind her back, she had to squint to see the specks of the cabins on the horizon. Normally, such a realization would send her cowering to the ground in panic, but instead she was comforted by the unique music, which was becoming ever more clear.
All of their heads swiveled as they realized that the source of the music had to be near. Mary’s slender younger cousin, Martha, was the first to notice. “Over here. Look, in that clump of grass.” Murmuring like an awestruck crowd, they all stared unabashedly at the shape of a man kneeling nonchalantly on the grassy earth.
They all gasped in astonishment at the alien figure, who continued playing his song on a cane flute, seemingly oblivious to their presence. He wore nothing save for black body paint in mysterious patterns. His body was well-built, lithe and muscular on the boarder of bulky, far healthier than the men of the homestead. His broad chest and shoulders were relaxed as they held the flute to his lips, his thickly toned thighs crossed under him. He was barefoot, his hair was long and flowed in the wind, and his hands were large.
Becky’s mouth opened in wonder. A real savage, right here! She heard stories all around about the tribal people, raiding wagon trains, killing settlers, kidnapping women. It made the wilderness so very exciting and dangerous, but she never imagined she would actually see one of them. She heard that they pierced their faces all over, wore their victim’s skins and their teeth as necklaces, split their tongues, and worshipped the devil through demonic incantations. But the figure sitting before her, unworried, confident, and comfortable here in the middle of nowhere…
With a final note, he stopped, turning their way as he stood. More gasps arose as he unhesitantly presented himself. Well over 6’4’’, he towered over them, every muscle rippling with every slight movement. His eight-pack flexed enticingly below his massive chest. A handsome, gentle face regarded them with dark, friendly eyes. And down below, in full view of the twelve pious settler girls, rested the spectacular proof of his masculinity.
The girls turned red all over. Becky fidgeted, trying to keep her hands in one place and settling for holding them behind her back.
“I wondered how long it would be before you all came. I must be losing my touch.” He spoke with calm, unshakable confidence, and a gentleness that disarmed everyone.
Becky struggled to speak. “Umm, good sir, it is rather a bit forward, isn’t it, to be walking about in the state that you are?”
“State?”
“Yes…well…the way you…as you are…like…” she fumbled for words, gesturing for him to complete her thoughts. He just stared, a pleasant smile glued to his face.
“I think lil’ miz Prim’n’Proper wants to ask ya’ why y’all butt-nekked right in the middle of this here public,” Tilly interrupted. Becky gave her a swat to the arm.
The man just gave an affable laugh, absolutely unashamed at his exposed self. “Well, when the weather is this nice, why not?” His voice was soft, not the deep, guttural growl of frontiersmen, and his tone was gentle and friendly, nonchalant. For all of his (rather impressive) nudity, it was impossible not to be disarmed by his manner. “Ever thought about just taking a walk, letting the scenery draw you in?” He gave a smirk, as if at an inside joke. “Maybe even take a quick dip in the river?”
“There’s a river here?” Hanna’s voice immediately brought Becky back to reality, and she covered her sister’s eyes with her hands; much to said sister’s chagrin.
“That’s exactly what I said.” The stranger gestured to her.
“Um, good sir,” Mary was struggling the same with Martha, the younger ones forcing their older sibling’s hands and scarves away from their faces. “If I may ask…what are you doing here like…this?”
“Ah, well, I’m so glad that you asked. It just so happens that your dear families owe me for a rather generous service that I performed for an enticingly discounted price. They decided that that given the choice instead of parting with a few measly products of their own labor that they would just have their pest problem taken care of for free and send a bad, bad heathen on his way like holy folks are wont.”
Tilly looked confused. “That was you?”
Becky forgot all about her sister’s precious angel eyes. “They threw you out? But mommy said that the man who took care of the gophers offered to do it at no charge.”
The man chuckled to himself, void of malice. “Really? Now that was a nice story. I was sure they would tell you that I cheated them and ran up the price for no reason. Still, I am owed, and I think you’ll enjoy paying that price.”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you going to do?” Mary asked with mild trepidation.
The stranger’s answer was simply to resume his song, turning his back and walking away into the horizon. Unbidden, all twelve settler girls began following, some looking at each other inquisitively, other taking a glance back at their barely-visible homes, but all of them herding in the direction of the exotic song. Becky’s mind was clear enough to admire the man’s powerful back and rounded, muscular bottom as it rippled and flexed with every easy step he took, but sufficiently entranced that she didn’t realize when she began undoing the knot of her scarf or the buttons of her dress.
She had no idea how long they had been walking. She was only vaguely aware of anyone around her save for the handsome, savage gentleman with the twitching backside. She felt no sense of tiredness. She only knew that at some point a wide river came into view, breaking the monotony of the lush plains. The stranger stopped at the river’s edge.
“Here we are.”
“Where are we?” Martha asked shyly.
“Just a nice place to have some fun. And to extract the debt from your loving families. Alright girls, who will join me for a swim?”
“Right here?” Becky asked incredulously. “With you in front of us?”
“Why not? You don’t seem shy right now.”
Her eyebrows creased in confusion, but when she glanced down she immediately gasped and covered herself. Somehow, between finding the stranger and walking to the river she had lost every stich of clothing by her own hand. Bare naked as Eve in the garden, her loosened hair blowing in the wind, she hugged her breasts and covered her bare pussy with her hand. Looking all around, she could see every one of the girls in a similar state. Hanna, for one, seemed fascinated by the display of female flesh. Her arms at her sides, her femininity exposed for all to see, she laughed despite herself, reveling in the freedom of being naked and bare in the middle of the untamed wilderness. Becky knew her sister had a rebellious streak that would have to be beaten out of her, but this was ridiculous!
The others stood in a state of mixed confusion, bewilderment,
embarrassment, and fascination. Tilly, ever the dainty belle that she was, pouted as she tried in vain to keep her slender body hidden by lifting a leg up to hide her blonde-tuffed pussy. Monica, shocked at the grand show of bare skin, tried to shield her two cousins, Jacqueline and Amanda, by covering their eyes, only to find her plump bosom, curvy hips and belly bared for all to see. Nancy, the old carpenter’s granddaughter, only managed to squeeze her breasts enticingly between her toned arms, her thighs—muscular from horse-riding—twitching in the cool air. Towards the rear, Mia’s almond-shaped eyes widened as she found herself staring openly at a dozen rounded bottoms and bared backs, too surprised to cover her own willowy frame and modest chest. And Mary…Becky’s eyes stayed a bit too long on her friend, drinking in her pleasingly ample figure, her arms unintentionally lifting her heavy breasts and exposing her smoothly pudgy belly. Becky could see the outline of her chubby bottom from where she stood. Next to her, young Martha smiled and giggled with Hanna, like a pair of mares finally freed from the stable, bridles and bits gone.
Strangely, through, Becky did not feel humiliated or exposed. In fact, she was beginning to feel a familiar tingle down where she was covering herself; one that she had not felt since she married an older man who only had her pregnancy on his mind when they rutted. She knew that this was wrong, that she should be panicking scrambling to cover herself; decency demanded it. But somehow, standing there in the open air with twelve young, naked bodies felt so incredibly right; there were just no words.
“Come, let’s enjoy a relaxing dip. You’ve earned it after all.” Once again, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong from the way he treated the situation. Playing his flute again, he strutted himself into the water, the steadily flowing river rising over his firm buttocks and waist.
Deciding that nothing was wrong, Tilly took the initiative. “Ahm’ goin’ in gals. Really, whoeva’d toss a chance to swim with a hunk o’ meat like that is a real damn fool.” So with that, she waltzed into the water, arms swinging by her sides, ample breasts bouncing in the air.
Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, and they had just been given ample permission. “Can’t be that bad,” Mary agreed and followed suit. Every girl uncovered themselves and hopped in the water as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You coming, sis?” Hanna called, glancing over her shoulder.
“Uh, yeah. Right with you.” Blushing all over, Becky managed to draw herself to the riverbank and dive in. She was immediately overwhelmed with the sensation.
Jesus, how long has it been since I swam. No one would be burdened to dig a pool in a homestead, and there were no water sources but the well. She was suddenly refreshed like never before, spitting out water as she surfaced, the river’s flow wonderful against her naked skin.
“Hey sis, look at me!” Hanna plugged her nose and dove under with Martha, trying to stay under the longest. Martha won, so they opted for a water fight, girls giggling and shouting all around, heedless of their surroundings.
Becky screeched as she was grabbed roughly by strong hands and dunked under the water. She came up splashing and hollering like a chicken.
Mary’s beautiful laugh rang behind her. “Gotcha.”
Becky’s glare turned to a smirk. “Oh really?”
She dunked under the water, leaping for Mary’s thick thighs, grabbing them and pulling. Mary flailed through the water, both of them fighting for the surface. They burst through in a spray of cool river water, laughing uncontrollably and splashing each other until tears filled their eyes.
Through the blur, Becky saw her friend as if for the first time. Standing breast-deep in the river, the current cascading around her form like a weathered stone, curly hair plastered to her head, Mary looked every inch the siren, but tempered with an expression of innocence. New feelings percolated through Becky’s heart as she took in Mary’s floating breasts, her dark, rounded nipples, the curve of her toned shoulders, the deep brown of her eyes, the chocolate hue of her bare skin. Mary seemed to be contemplating Becky’s shimmering cream skin, brunette hair and modest breasts the same way.
Becky waded towards her friend, who made no move away from her. Slowly, she grasped Mary’s hands, and Mary reciprocated. Holding their arms about in parallel, their bodies touched, Becky cooing at the feel of Mary’s diamond-hard nipples against her own bust, her rounded, pudgy belly against her own toned tummy. The two naked girls giggled, taking in their wide smiles, leaning in closer, closer…
A screech caught their attention as Tilly and Henrietta (the muscular blacksmith’s girl) cannonballed into the river from the opposite shore. It was quite a sight, all the bare young flesh without a care in the world. Standing over them, seemingly satisfied with watching, their musical stranger stood proudly overlooking their juvenile antics.
“Alright girls, time for the grand finale.”
“What’s that?” Monica asked as she guided her cousins from the cool water.
“Right this way.” And with a blow of his flute, they all began extracting themselves from their impromptu skinny dip.
Becky began wringing out her hair as she made to depart. “Sorry.”
But Mary just caressed her cheek. “Don’t be.” She brought her hand down to give Becky’s breast a gentle squeeze, flicking the nipple with her thumb. Then she made her way to the others, Becky giving a small smile after her.
They were in single file now, walking along the edge of the river. They danced and skipped and laughed and joked, more carefree than they ever were. As the sun began to reach its zenith, the stranger suddenly began leading them in a wide circle. It ended with all of them frolicking around him, as he stood in the center playing for them like a gentleman.
“I just love it here,” Bev, the only other black girl in the group, said, her ample globes and bottom bouncing in her dance. “I might never go back home. I just want to stay here forever.”
“And you will,” the man promised.
“What do you mean?” Martha asked curiously.
He ceased his playing and regarded al of them with an easy smile. “Have you ever thought about your destiny? You have all come from near and far to reach this place. All of you so different, yet you have one thing in common that no one else knows about.”
Their faces tilted with curiosity. “Whaddya’ mean?” Tilly asked.
“Tell me, have you ever been satisfied with the lives you were destined to lead? Mary a man to push out kids and clean his house till you’re old and gray? Or did you hope for something more; a secret that only you know but that you would like to share with others? You might not know it now, but all of you are touched by the Earth Herself. You want to give yourselves back to Her, and let me tell you: She is anxious for you to come home.”
“I don’t understand.” Becky was confused.
“Take a look.” He bid them look down, and she did.
Becky saw the seemingly solid ground had enveloped her bare feet like a spoon in a bowl of soft dough. She tugged a little, but they wouldn’t budge. She looked around and saw the other girls regarding their own predicament. Their reactions varied; Mary, Henri, and Tilly were grunting and pulling on their legs, Monica’s toned legs rippling while Mary’s breasts and belly jiggled with her efforts. Hanna and Martha seemed more fascinated with the wobbling mud than anything else. Becky saw clearly than they were all sinking, the thick, undulating substance climbing their calves and shanks. She saw and felt herself descending slowly but steadily.
Strangely, though, she felt very little fear. What fear she did feel was more like a slight chill running up her spine, giving her a excited feeling all over her body, and causing the inside of her cleft to tighten. “What is this, mister?”
“Oh that’s what you’d call…what is it, slow-something or…quicksand. Right, that’s it. You’re all in quicksand.” He said it in a bored tone as if he was telling them what kind of chair they were sitting on.
“Quick-sand?” Hanna asked. “What is this quick-sand?”
The thought sent a wave through Becky that ended with her nipples feeling a lot more sensitive, but she answered her sister’s question with surprising calm. “It’s something you hear about in dime novels. It’s this mud or sand that sucks people in.”
“Sucks people in?” Martha asked. “As in, all the way?”
“That’s what I heard.” Mary answered as she watched the mud climb up to her knees. “But you can stop sinking if you hold completely still.”
“Oh, okay. Then lets do that.” Hanna held her breath, closed her eyes, and stood still and straight as a statue. Becky couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at how ridiculous her sister looked, as well as the other naked girls following suit. The mud just continued climbing up their knees, their feminine forms descending into the rippling, goopy surface.
“I don’t think this quicksand want to cooperate,” Becky pointed out. The girls opened their eyes to see their forms continue sinking, their thighs quickly vanishing. “Uh, girls, I think it’s important that we get out of here before this stuff reaches our…special parts.”
“Why’s that?” Hanna asked.
“I just do.”
The stranger gave no indication of sympathizing with their predicament. Becky thought that he might be at least a little concerned that a group of young women were destined to smoother to death in churning river muck unless a brave, handsome warrior were to extract them.
So concerned was she about the mud just half and inch from her exposed, vulnerable pussy, she only then realized that the man—who continued playing as if nothing were wrong—was sitting in the center of their descending group, completely buoyant. The mire that was sucking their young, helpless forms didn’t even curve around his bare feet or bottom. It was as if he wasn’t there on the fluid surface at all.
“Now, now, girls, let’s not complain about our current situation. After all, who wants to spend their last moments on Earth being upset of panicky? All there is left is now.” He turned specifically to Becky. “Better watch your precious little parts there, miss. All bare like that; anything can happen down there.”
She was about to make a snide retort when she felt the first signs of the viscous quagmire touch her lower lips. She let out a soft coo, biting her lips, trying to resist the urge to yelp out her pleasure. It felt nice, all soft and gentle and soothing and caressing. She settled in deeper and the goop cupped her mound, flowing over her puffy lips and clit. While distracted by the sensation of being groped and fondled by the yielding mud, she could sense the other girls becoming acquainted with their new dance partner. She could hear some “yips” of surprise, and more than a few moans and groans. Some closed their eyes and let the sensations wash over them, others rolled their eyes back into their head as the viscous, creamy mud began snaking over, upwards, and in, licking them from the inside out. A few, like her sister and Mary, wiggled around in the muck, sending ripples in all directions, their half-buried torsos oscillating up and down with the tide of the deadly gumbo.
Becky could already feel the quicksand filling her up down below, instinctively clenching her special parts as it began filling her like her husband never could. But quicksand doesn’t care if you’re a proper lady or a holy girl, it doesn’t give a damn if your pure, or virtuous, or pious, it doesn’t wait for your consent and doesn’t care if you like it. It just takes. She held her hand over her mouth to stile a scream as the mud began filling up her clenching tunnel, while simultaneously widening her virgin pucker to begin the last act of filling up her rectum, stealing her last virginity.
“Ooooooh, now I can get used to this,” Hanna giggled as her new lover violated her. She leaned over and gave Martha a loud, sloppy kiss, which Mary’s young cousin reciprocated. All around them, girls had turned to each other, fondling, groping, caressing, wives and innocents alike, making the most of what little time they had.
“Funny,” Mary caught Becky’s attention. “I expected my little cousin to be a good, pious girl and make a family with a strong, hard-working husband.” Her hand wandered to Becky’s vanishing bottom and gave it a squeeze. “And now, the only lover she’ll ever have is a pit full of filthy mud in the ground. I guess you were right, we should have gotten out before this stuff got into…us.”
“Now watch how you use that word, ‘filthy’,” the stranger interrupted his melody. “Soil is a beautiful thing; what every living being turns into after it leaves this world. So we all go back to the Earth and help nourish all the plants and animals in it. You get the honor of doing so while you’re still young, healthy, and beautiful. Congratulations.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Becky regarded her own descending form, her hips having given into the inexorable pull of the greedy quicksand. “Hey Mary, what we were doing earlier—?“
“Say no more.” As best they could, they leaned over the goop between them and began a rigorous bout of smooching. When they pulled apart, a bridge of intermixed spittle bridged her hanging tongues, much to their delight.
As they began moving on to their breasts, taking turns suckling one then the other, Becky watched her fellow future fertilizer as they made their own downward journeys. Monica was busy kissing her two cousins on either side of her, caressing their bare shoulders and cutely squeezing the belly pudge of her oldest. Martha and Hanna continued churning the mud with their careless actions, anxious to feel as much of their skin slide against each other as possible. Mia had stuck a hand in front of her, gently teasing her no doubt engorged clit while the other caressed a small, rounded boob, pinching the nipple between her fingers. Tilly was already to her breasts, violently diddling herself silly, crying her pleasure loud and hard to the empty air.
“Seems that the more we move, the faster we sink.” Becky noted.
“Are you saying that we should stop and hold still?” Mary asked.
Becky smirked. “Not at all.” The two girls separated and began following suit, searching the muck for their sacred clefts and, upon finding them, went about making room for the violating mire to fill them up even more, pressing against a nerve cluster deep inside their resisting walls.
Suddenly, all of their attention turned in the direction of a series of bubbles. “Oh, oh, oh yes, oh yes! Oh my god I’m blug glug blurblegluggluggloop…” Henri, her strength now working against her, screamed her final climax as she drove her head smoothly under the treacherous mire, bubbles foaming before her submerged eyes. Then, struggling for yet another orgasm, the mud rose around her forehead and began on her hair.
“Wow…She really didn’t mind drowning to death for that last bit of pleasure.” Martha stared spellbound. “I wonder if it will really be that good.”
“Only one way to find out.” Hanna began following suit, rubbing herself and watching Martha fondle her floating breasts, bring pushed upward by the thickness of the enveloping quagmire.
To Becky’s right, Tilly was collarbone-deep in the muck, and she gave no sign that her imminent death by smothering in thick fluid was in any way fazing her.
The entire time, the stranger serenaded them with his beautiful song. It seemed a wonderful thing to know that it was the very last piece of music any of them would ever hear.
“Tilly, you know what’s happening, don’t you?” Becky asked. The orgasm-drunk girl nodded. “You’re going to drown in that muck, all helpless and trying to get a breath but instead you get a thick muddy ocean stuffing your lungs while you try and wring out another orgasm before you go to sleep and never wake up. You realize that, right?”
Tilly’s answer was to giggle like an intoxicated lunatic. “Yeah…and I can’t wait for it to happen.” Without taking a breath, she shoved her face into the mire with a loud splat, fighting the thickness of the mud to force her head all the way in. Bubbles exploded as she carelessly blew away what little air she had, no regard for her precious earthly life as her magnificent blonde hair piled into a thick, swirling vortex. The last golden strand vanished soundlessly.
The bubbles stopped quickly, speaking volumes of their friend’s fate.
“Now that is hot,” Mary rubbed faster.
“Yeah. I wanted to hold off on drowning for a little longer but I’m not…sure…I…can!” Becky huffed as her lust over came her. Her tunnel clamped down on the mud inside of her, trying to force it out but to no avail. She belonged to the quicksand now and if it felt like ravishing her, owning her, demeaning her, treating her as a set of fuckable holes and gropable parts, then it was fully in its right.
“Look,” Hanna called out, drawing their attention. She was breast-deep, her nipples halfway buried in the muck, while Martha’s ample bosom was being surrounded by the unyielding surface of the sucking quicksand. “I’m almost there.”
“Now, Hanna.” Becky began in a stern, authoritative voice. “I know that you are of age and now a lady, not a girl. That being said, that doesn’t mean that you can go about and sink to your death willy-nilly whenever you feel like it.” She kept her fingers working down below as the mud gradually encircled her waist. “I am your older sister and I say that you simply cannot just go on a little adventure like this all by yourself.”
“Oh really.” Hanna chided her sister, as if daring her to exert her authority.
“Therefore, I will serve as your chaperone and accompany you down to the depths of the quicksand. What do you say?”
Hanna smirked smugly. “I think it’s a great idea, sis. Now watch me do the last disappearing act I’ll ever do in my life.”
While they were teasing each other, the girls were making their way to different heights as they gave in or resisted the urge to diddle themselves to a quicker oblivion. Monica was saying her final goodbyes to Jacqueline and Amanda, and had you been there, you would have sworn you were hearing an excitement in their voices, as if they were just about to embark on a joyful family vacation.
“Now remember girls, these are out last moments of our mortal lives so be sure not to waste them. You remember what I showed you: just move your fingers around like—oooh!—that, and keep going. Don’t stop until you run out of breath, and whatever you do, no matter how tempted you are, keep holding your breath until the end.”
“Okay, cousin. We’re ready.” The mud cupped their chins but neither girl tilted her head back, not an ounce of fear in their eyes.
“Such good girls. Such brave girls.” She watched them with so much love as her shoulders went under.
“What do we have to be brave about? In a few minutes we’ll feel like this all over our bodies and then we’ll die with smiles on our faces.”
“That’s right.” Amanda spoke up. “No more chores, no more waiting for a husband, no more stable-cleaning. Our only responsibility to is feel really good before we drown and die.” With that, the quicksand took their mouths, reducing their words into gurgling coos.
“That right, girls. I love you Amanda. I love you Jacqueline. I’ll see you soon. Bye-bye.” Their eyes fluttered shut for the last time and the goopy muck flowed over their heads and began drawing their long tangles down with them.
“Guess I’m on my own.” Neck-deep, Monica casually began working her muddy womanhood down below, certain that the feeling of her cousin’s orgasmic, thrashing deaths would bring her to a massive climax quite worth dying for.
As bubbles erupted from where the two girls met their ends, Mia began blowing her own bubbles into the muck, eyes crossed as she watched her life-giving breath gurgle loudly away, while Bev, a head taller, puckered her lips in anticipation of taking her last gasps. Nancy was leaning across the mire, had been passionately kissing the two girls next to her, but pulled away when she got too deep. She watched with devilish anticipation as Mia gave her a cheeky wink and prepared to settle into her brand new home. All around them there were fewer screams and wails of ecstasy and more flurries of thick, frothy bubbles.
The sisters and cousins watched one another as a family, pointedly interested in the pleasure of each other’s last minutes on Earth. As her floating breasts vanished with mud bubbling through her cleavage, Hanna cooed as she gently played with her violated pussy, a few quick flicks of her fingertips all she needed to reach her peak time and again.
“Well, little sis. It looks like you’re a goner.”
“Yeah, I am.” Hanna watched the muck reach her chin and kept her face up. Martha had lost control and was now nose deep, her eyes widening as her air was cut off for the final time. Then her eyes rolled back into her head as it took them too, her forehead and vanishing, curly hair all that was left of her.
Mary contemplated her departing cousin, who she had always protected. “Bye, cousin. Hope you’re enjoying yourself down there.” She quickly continued tickling her swollen lips as her tunnel was stuffed to the brim, Martha forgotten in the midst of a series of orgasms.
Suddenly, Hanna shrieked in orgasm. She turned her head up to give herself a few seconds more as the mud climbed her face.
“Oh…my…where did that come from?” She blushed like a tomato, even after all that. “I…I think I did something wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Becky asked from her own breast-deep vantage point. Her own globes were being lifted by the mucky surface—undulating with the submerged motions of happily dying girls—and pushed against her chest, the thick, goopy mud enveloping them lovingly.
“I think I sprayed something into the mud, but I don’t…”
“It’s normal.” The stranger addressed them. “It means that the quicksand made you feel especially good. Let me guess, your husbands never managed to make you feel this way.” Becky and Mary shook their heads. They, and Hanna, were all who were left, Nancy having writhed her way to a bubbly end just seconds before. “Then consider it a return for the pleasure that She gave you just now. Trust me, She loves the taste of a girl’s cum.”
“Oh. I see. Thank you mister stranger, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Hanna.” Becky responded. “I did it a couple of times, too.”
From her motions, Hanna was clearly trying to get her orgasms going again. “Can I do it one more time before I’m gone?”
“That’s all up to you, young lady. But I’d hurry if I were you…you don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
“Thanks.” Her voice drifted as she began another, fatal massage, her motions dooming her. The mud climbing up the side of her face, she gave her last farewells. “G’bye sis. I love you so much. You’re the best big sister in the world.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say.”
“G’bye Mary. I’ll tell Martha how much you love her…I hafta go now…see you soon…” And with that, she resigned herself to her bubbly demise and just let the quicksand flow right over her upturned face. A cascade of bubbles marked her young grave, which slowly began to fade as Becky said goodbye to her proud breasts for the last time.
“Bye sis.” A small, sentimental tear flowed down Becky’s cheek. But it was quickly replaced by the sweet, snug, gentle caress of the lethal mire. Having wrung herself dry, her pussy and ass stuffed completely full of mud so there was no room for more, she surrendered to the feel of her descent as the muck rolled around and churned inside her, caressing her shoulders. It was time to accept her new, permanent home.
“Hey, Mary.” The sinking girl turned from her neck-deep position. “I just wanted to say…”
“You don’t have to.”
“I love you…And I’m sorry that we couldn’t enjoy more time together. For what it’s worth, would you be my wife, ‘till death do us part?”
Mary smiled as she began tilting her head back, mud gurgling hungrily all around them. “Absolutely. In fact, can’t this be a wedding right now, our vows in a sinking mudpit?”
“Why not?” the stranger answered. “You could say that I have that kind of authority, so when you reach Her, she’ll recognize you as loving wife and wife.”
“Thanks, stranger. And thank you for the song.”
“My pleasure.”
“Well, I guess this is it.” Mary brought a free hand to her nose. “I’ll see you at the bottom, sweetie. Deep breath.” She plugged her nose, puffed her cheeks like a little girl, and let the viscous goop slop over her helpless face. Only her full head of drying hair marked her final resting place.”
“Bye…my wife.” Becky knew it was her turn, alone, neck deep in front of the stranger. All of the cascades of bubbles had slowed down to a complete halt, leaving her a single, lone head violating the liquid Earth. She let her hand wander around her pussy lips while the other gave a few more squeezes to her tit. Soon the mud would have the last of her holes to violate, leaving no part of her that wasn’t completely owned by it, body, mind, or soul.
“You’re just going to watch, aren’t you? Not going to do a thing to help me?” He just stared, seemingly humored. “Well, not sure I could ask for much. I’m guessing that even twenty men couldn’t save my life now.” The mire took her chin, and she tilted her head back a bit, but not much. Trying to delay it wouldn’t do a lot of good. “Would you at the very least tell me your name?”
He did.
“Huh. I guess that does make quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it?”
Her only answer was mud taking her mouth and flowing into her ears. She watched him the entire time, his face showing only amusement, not an ounce of guilt, remorse, or shame at having watched a dozen girls, young, vibrant, beautiful, and with their entire lives ahead of them, drown to death in bottomless quicksand. Becky didn’t even panic when her nose went under, only regretting not having taken a deeper breath. But that was alright; more air just meant a few more seconds and then it would end all the same. She shut her eyes, the stranger her last vision before thick, earthy muckiness surrounded her head and flowing hair.
She was gone, all hope and all traces of her vanished from the world. Beneath the mud, she smiled, completely satisfied with the hand that life dealt her. Rather than orgasm herself to a smothery oblivion like some of the girls, she let herself settle down in the mire, letting her breath float up to the surface while her body sank forever with her friends.
Above the quicksand, the man watched nonchalantly as the last few bubbles broke the surface. They lasted a good long while, a tribute to their owner’s resilience, and then the surface settled and came to a rest, no indication remaining that it was ever violated, or that a group of innocent girls had sunk to death just moments before. Satisfied, he stretched out, sunning himself, his flute resting next to him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a large, black bird landing on the ground a few feet away. He regarded it casually, even as its head faced him.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. ‘There he goes again, having his fun.’ Well, what was I supposed to do? Those outsiders need to understand that you don’t treat people like that in this place.” The bird tilted its head at him. “Don’t give me that. You know I have an eye for beauty, and they were the best batch yet. Maybe someday another band will treat me right and their own batch of girls won’t wind up as fertilizer with the rest.
“Still, it wasn’t as though they got the short end of the stick, now, was it? I’m sure you saw them, heard them. Earth wanted them, touched them. They could have spent their lives not knowing, but thanks to me, they are where people like them are meant to be. So there.” He mimicked a petulant child.
When he turned, he was unsurprised to see a naked, brown-skinned woman, her body adorned with tattoos not known to any tribe. She was fit, statuesque, her arms crossed around her flawless breasts. She looked down at him like a disappointed mentor.
“Alright, I was a bit greedy. But you were watching too, weren’t you. You enjoyed it. Or is there another reason why you didn’t swoop in a save those girls from their certain deaths?”
She simply rolled her eyes with an amused half-smile.
“Well, this had been a good start to the day. What do you say we go upriver and grab some brunch, huh? My treat.”
He made his way over to her, and she gave in and walked by his side. Had anyone been privy to this exchange they would have seen the spectacular sight of a naked, savage woman walking peacefully down a wide river next to a furry, four-legged creature, leaving behind a pool filled with sexy, happily drowned girls.
This story is dedicated to our dear, departed friend, the great and incomparable PM2K. We type your name with pride.
The Last Serenade
“Did anyone hear that?”
Becky stood from where she sat with the homestead’s twelve other young women, knitting by candlelight. She made her way over to the window to peer out into the moonlit night.
“Hear what, Becky?” her younger sister Hanna asked.
“I thought I heard some shouting,” Mary spoke up. “I swear it was half of our folks raising their voices at some stranger I never heard before.”
Before she knew it, Becky was suddenly crowded before the tiny, four-paned window, ruining her discreet approach. “Hey, what are you all doing?”
“We wanna’ see too,” Tilly whined. Her tall, blonde appearance somehow made her seem even more bratty. “Don’t ya’ go hogging the window!”
“Will everybody just cut it out?!” Mia hissed from the corner. “We’re not supposed to go outside. Obviously whatever they’re doing is none of our business.”
Ignoring her, the other girls gathered around the window, gawking like schoolchildren. Becky covered the candle with her hand, hoping to get a better view just as the voices began dying down. From jeers and boos came sounds of relief and victory, including a few sophomoric whoops from the younger men. Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be visible from that angle.
“I can’t see a damn thing,” Hanna complained.
“Hanna, language.” Becky chided. “They catch you saying that they’ll wash your mouth out with a washboard and put it through the wringer.”
“See anything?”
Becky squinted, trying to make out shapes in the moonlight. Even with a full moon in the sky, the empty expanse of the plains still stretched into infinite darkness. Settlers were not accustomed to the endlessness of the horizon, and often developed an acute agoraphobia from being exposed to it.
Suddenly, movement.
“I think I see him!” she whispered, and everyone around her tensed.
Out into view stepped a furry, four-legged animal.
“What do you see?” Hanna urged her.
She sighed in disappointment. “Just a coyote.” The girls began dispersing with a few moans, but her wide-eyed younger sister leapt to the window to gawk at the novel event in her monotonous life.
“Wow, I’ve never seen one so close before. They’re usually so afraid when we get close.”
“Yeah, you’ll get bored of seeing them critters after you’ve been here a’while,” Tilly drawled. “A bunch o’ furry little fleabags the lot of ‘em.”
“Alright everyone, let’s get ready for bed.” Becky chided them. “It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”
“Un huh,” Mia droned from her bed. “Like every other day has been and ever will be. Let’s face it: nothing ever happen out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Hanna was still staring out the window when their mother came in to gently usher them to bed. The room was instantly filled with “alrights”, “yes ma’ams”, and “okays”, accompanied by the rustle of covers, pillows, and voluminous bedclothes. Hanna was pried away from the window, which here eyes continuously followed as she was urged by her shoulders to the bed she shared with Becky. “Momma, what was going on out there?”
“Oh, nothing important dear.” She responded with that sweet, motherly voice characteristic of good, pious, puritanical settlers. “You see, we finally solved our gopher problem.”
“Really?” Mary lit up from her bed. “Does that mean no more bad crops? We’ll get a full yield from now on.”
“Absolutely. And best of all, the man who did it agreed to do it all free of charge for those doing the Lord’s work. Isn’t that sweet?” The girls all nodded in agreement, shocked at the stranger’s incredible generosity. “Well, goodnight girls. Tomorrow is a very important day.”
Halfhearted agreements followed her pronouncement. Then the candles were blown out one by one, bathing the girl’s cabin in darkness. As they all drifted soundly to sleep, Becky kept staring at the ceiling in pitch darkness, wondering if anything interesting would ever happen to her in the insignificant spot in the middle of nowhere.
The early morning saw Becky and her sister scrubbing pots and pans caked with grease from the men’s hearty breakfast. After that would come the clothes, which would take the rest of the entire morning. Being modest, faithful settlers, they would never be caught dead wearing anything short of ankle-long, long-sleeved dresses, two layers of neck-high blouses always buttoned to the top, over bloomers, topped off with a plain, thick headscarf. Sure, the environment was hardly compatible with dress from snow-capped mountains and temperate forests, but if any stranger was to pass through the homestead, the first thing he would see was that the warm climate had not pressured these virtuous homesteaders to immodesty. That was worth more than a bit of discomfort.
It hardly mattered what a task it created in washing all of those clothes.
Mary stepped in, carrying a wide basket. “Morning, girls. Daddy got some more soap done, so I thought I would bring you some to help with the cleaning.”
“Thanks Mary,” Becky responded, graciously taking the load from her friend. Mary was an attractive girl Becky’s age, and always livened up the group of girls with her eager, outgoing attitude. Her family had come out to the frontier after the war had ended slavery in the South, sending them after new beginnings. Slightly shorter than the cream-skinned, brunette farmer’s daughter from the North, Mary’s dark, mocha-colored skin was a pleasant contrast to the majority of the homesteaders in the region. Her ample hips, heavy bust, and motherly belly spoke of her family’s hard work and produce. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the evening?”
“Yeah, I should, but there’s still work to be done all the same. The mothers are getting the girls and boys to all play their part and tailoring their fine clothes. Honestly, I would enjoy a simple wedding in whatever we have to wear. What good are all the bow ties and frilly dresses out here in the middle of nowhere? We even had to wait two extra days to get a preacher we don’t know out here from who knows where.”
Hanna smirked. “Don’t ever let momma hear you say that. We’re supposed to be civilized, y’know. Civilized folk don’t go around marrying each other in their working clothes.”
Mary laughed, but it was cautious. “True enough. I’m glad to have been a free, family girl for as long as I have. Anyone you fancy, Hanna?”
“Not me. But maybe the Bradley boy will ask.”
“You don’t want him, trust me,” Becky responded. “You want someone who will give you some space and take up the burden once in a while. Not a manly man who’ll go out and play dice with the boys while you haul the grain just ‘cause Eve got her man in hot water.”
“Is that how it is with you and Eric?”
Becky smiled solemnly, but kept her calm. “Now you never mind him. He’s my husband and so he’s my business only.”
“We need new blood in this place. Maybe a wagon will come by eventually and we’ll have more options.” Hanna had come of age just weeks before, and harbored a fantasy of a Prince Charming who would never actually be burdened to wander out into the untamed wilderness to find his Cinderella.
“Well, it seems everyone’s busy with their own chores, so I guess I’ll just muster off and make sure the windows are clean.” Mary turned heel to leave, but halted before she reached the door. “Did any of you hear something just now?”
“Like what?” Becky asked curiously.
“Like…a whistle…you know what, never mind. All this wind must be getting to me.” With a chuckle and a shrug, she hopped out the open door.
Becky shook her head in amusement. “She has the energy of ten mustangs.”
“I know.” Her little sister finished scrubbing the bottom of the Dutch oven. “That man she’s marrying had better have a lot of energy.” They laughed like good-natured sisters do as they finished the last of their drudgery.
Becky was just patting her skirt dry when Hanna spoke up. “What is that?”
She tilted her head. “What is what?”
“Listen,” her sister pressed.
Becky put her laundry down and closed her eyes concentrating. Just the wind, wind, and more wind.
And then…somewhere in all that wind blowing through the grass and against the cabins…a whistle.
She could barely make it out, but there was no mistaking it. Not only was it an unusually pitched whistle, but it was also the most unnatural sound she had heard in a long time in the prarie. It seemed a bit of a ways away, and yet the young settler girl could easily recognize an unmistakable signature.
It was a melody.
“What is that?” Hanna asked, astounded.
“It’s so…so…lovely,” Becky smiled a smile she had not smiled in a long time.
“Yeah, it is.” Hanna sounded almost dazed. Neither of them had ever heard such a sound before. “I’m going to see where it’s coming from.”
Becky shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was trying to tell her sister that it was too dangerous, and that it was forbidden to wander from the cabins at these hours. Instead, all that came out was: “Yeah, me too.”
The two girls walked out the door and looked around. “There,” Becky indicated. “It’s definitely from that direction.”
“What’s over there?”
“I don’t know…I’ve never gone in that direction before.”
Her sister smiled one of her youthful, sophomoric smiles. “Let’s go see. We’ll be back before mommy and daddy know we’re gone.”
They followed the strange melody, its hauntingly pleasant tune drawing them away from safety. In their minds, they were not going far and they would be right back; what reason could there be to worry, or make their families worry? They barely paid any mind to the other girls leaving their cabins, their wash bins and clotheslines, all going in the same direction, all inquiring as to the same alien music. Some were chatting over the unknown that had drawn them out there. Others seemed almost lost in the pleasant sound; the only instruments they had were a couple of fiddles, a guitar, and banjo, their strings varyingly frayed and now rarely played. A valuable beauty was music in this untamed wilderness, and this one moreso given that not one girl in the group had ever heard this particular sound before.
It may have been minutes, or an hour, but the next time Becky bothered to look behind her back, she had to squint to see the specks of the cabins on the horizon. Normally, such a realization would send her cowering to the ground in panic, but instead she was comforted by the unique music, which was becoming ever more clear.
All of their heads swiveled as they realized that the source of the music had to be near. Mary’s slender younger cousin, Martha, was the first to notice. “Over here. Look, in that clump of grass.” Murmuring like an awestruck crowd, they all stared unabashedly at the shape of a man kneeling nonchalantly on the grassy earth.
They all gasped in astonishment at the alien figure, who continued playing his song on a cane flute, seemingly oblivious to their presence. He wore nothing save for black body paint in mysterious patterns. His body was well-built, lithe and muscular on the boarder of bulky, far healthier than the men of the homestead. His broad chest and shoulders were relaxed as they held the flute to his lips, his thickly toned thighs crossed under him. He was barefoot, his hair was long and flowed in the wind, and his hands were large.
Becky’s mouth opened in wonder. A real savage, right here! She heard stories all around about the tribal people, raiding wagon trains, killing settlers, kidnapping women. It made the wilderness so very exciting and dangerous, but she never imagined she would actually see one of them. She heard that they pierced their faces all over, wore their victim’s skins and their teeth as necklaces, split their tongues, and worshipped the devil through demonic incantations. But the figure sitting before her, unworried, confident, and comfortable here in the middle of nowhere…
With a final note, he stopped, turning their way as he stood. More gasps arose as he unhesitantly presented himself. Well over 6’4’’, he towered over them, every muscle rippling with every slight movement. His eight-pack flexed enticingly below his massive chest. A handsome, gentle face regarded them with dark, friendly eyes. And down below, in full view of the twelve pious settler girls, rested the spectacular proof of his masculinity.
The girls turned red all over. Becky fidgeted, trying to keep her hands in one place and settling for holding them behind her back.
“I wondered how long it would be before you all came. I must be losing my touch.” He spoke with calm, unshakable confidence, and a gentleness that disarmed everyone.
Becky struggled to speak. “Umm, good sir, it is rather a bit forward, isn’t it, to be walking about in the state that you are?”
“State?”
“Yes…well…the way you…as you are…like…” she fumbled for words, gesturing for him to complete her thoughts. He just stared, a pleasant smile glued to his face.
“I think lil’ miz Prim’n’Proper wants to ask ya’ why y’all butt-nekked right in the middle of this here public,” Tilly interrupted. Becky gave her a swat to the arm.
The man just gave an affable laugh, absolutely unashamed at his exposed self. “Well, when the weather is this nice, why not?” His voice was soft, not the deep, guttural growl of frontiersmen, and his tone was gentle and friendly, nonchalant. For all of his (rather impressive) nudity, it was impossible not to be disarmed by his manner. “Ever thought about just taking a walk, letting the scenery draw you in?” He gave a smirk, as if at an inside joke. “Maybe even take a quick dip in the river?”
“There’s a river here?” Hanna’s voice immediately brought Becky back to reality, and she covered her sister’s eyes with her hands; much to said sister’s chagrin.
“That’s exactly what I said.” The stranger gestured to her.
“Um, good sir,” Mary was struggling the same with Martha, the younger ones forcing their older sibling’s hands and scarves away from their faces. “If I may ask…what are you doing here like…this?”
“Ah, well, I’m so glad that you asked. It just so happens that your dear families owe me for a rather generous service that I performed for an enticingly discounted price. They decided that that given the choice instead of parting with a few measly products of their own labor that they would just have their pest problem taken care of for free and send a bad, bad heathen on his way like holy folks are wont.”
Tilly looked confused. “That was you?”
Becky forgot all about her sister’s precious angel eyes. “They threw you out? But mommy said that the man who took care of the gophers offered to do it at no charge.”
The man chuckled to himself, void of malice. “Really? Now that was a nice story. I was sure they would tell you that I cheated them and ran up the price for no reason. Still, I am owed, and I think you’ll enjoy paying that price.”
“What do you mean?”
“What are you going to do?” Mary asked with mild trepidation.
The stranger’s answer was simply to resume his song, turning his back and walking away into the horizon. Unbidden, all twelve settler girls began following, some looking at each other inquisitively, other taking a glance back at their barely-visible homes, but all of them herding in the direction of the exotic song. Becky’s mind was clear enough to admire the man’s powerful back and rounded, muscular bottom as it rippled and flexed with every easy step he took, but sufficiently entranced that she didn’t realize when she began undoing the knot of her scarf or the buttons of her dress.
She had no idea how long they had been walking. She was only vaguely aware of anyone around her save for the handsome, savage gentleman with the twitching backside. She felt no sense of tiredness. She only knew that at some point a wide river came into view, breaking the monotony of the lush plains. The stranger stopped at the river’s edge.
“Here we are.”
“Where are we?” Martha asked shyly.
“Just a nice place to have some fun. And to extract the debt from your loving families. Alright girls, who will join me for a swim?”
“Right here?” Becky asked incredulously. “With you in front of us?”
“Why not? You don’t seem shy right now.”
Her eyebrows creased in confusion, but when she glanced down she immediately gasped and covered herself. Somehow, between finding the stranger and walking to the river she had lost every stich of clothing by her own hand. Bare naked as Eve in the garden, her loosened hair blowing in the wind, she hugged her breasts and covered her bare pussy with her hand. Looking all around, she could see every one of the girls in a similar state. Hanna, for one, seemed fascinated by the display of female flesh. Her arms at her sides, her femininity exposed for all to see, she laughed despite herself, reveling in the freedom of being naked and bare in the middle of the untamed wilderness. Becky knew her sister had a rebellious streak that would have to be beaten out of her, but this was ridiculous!
The others stood in a state of mixed confusion, bewilderment,
embarrassment, and fascination. Tilly, ever the dainty belle that she was, pouted as she tried in vain to keep her slender body hidden by lifting a leg up to hide her blonde-tuffed pussy. Monica, shocked at the grand show of bare skin, tried to shield her two cousins, Jacqueline and Amanda, by covering their eyes, only to find her plump bosom, curvy hips and belly bared for all to see. Nancy, the old carpenter’s granddaughter, only managed to squeeze her breasts enticingly between her toned arms, her thighs—muscular from horse-riding—twitching in the cool air. Towards the rear, Mia’s almond-shaped eyes widened as she found herself staring openly at a dozen rounded bottoms and bared backs, too surprised to cover her own willowy frame and modest chest. And Mary…Becky’s eyes stayed a bit too long on her friend, drinking in her pleasingly ample figure, her arms unintentionally lifting her heavy breasts and exposing her smoothly pudgy belly. Becky could see the outline of her chubby bottom from where she stood. Next to her, young Martha smiled and giggled with Hanna, like a pair of mares finally freed from the stable, bridles and bits gone.
Strangely, through, Becky did not feel humiliated or exposed. In fact, she was beginning to feel a familiar tingle down where she was covering herself; one that she had not felt since she married an older man who only had her pregnancy on his mind when they rutted. She knew that this was wrong, that she should be panicking scrambling to cover herself; decency demanded it. But somehow, standing there in the open air with twelve young, naked bodies felt so incredibly right; there were just no words.
“Come, let’s enjoy a relaxing dip. You’ve earned it after all.” Once again, you couldn’t tell anything was wrong from the way he treated the situation. Playing his flute again, he strutted himself into the water, the steadily flowing river rising over his firm buttocks and waist.
Deciding that nothing was wrong, Tilly took the initiative. “Ahm’ goin’ in gals. Really, whoeva’d toss a chance to swim with a hunk o’ meat like that is a real damn fool.” So with that, she waltzed into the water, arms swinging by her sides, ample breasts bouncing in the air.
Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, and they had just been given ample permission. “Can’t be that bad,” Mary agreed and followed suit. Every girl uncovered themselves and hopped in the water as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“You coming, sis?” Hanna called, glancing over her shoulder.
“Uh, yeah. Right with you.” Blushing all over, Becky managed to draw herself to the riverbank and dive in. She was immediately overwhelmed with the sensation.
Jesus, how long has it been since I swam. No one would be burdened to dig a pool in a homestead, and there were no water sources but the well. She was suddenly refreshed like never before, spitting out water as she surfaced, the river’s flow wonderful against her naked skin.
“Hey sis, look at me!” Hanna plugged her nose and dove under with Martha, trying to stay under the longest. Martha won, so they opted for a water fight, girls giggling and shouting all around, heedless of their surroundings.
Becky screeched as she was grabbed roughly by strong hands and dunked under the water. She came up splashing and hollering like a chicken.
Mary’s beautiful laugh rang behind her. “Gotcha.”
Becky’s glare turned to a smirk. “Oh really?”
She dunked under the water, leaping for Mary’s thick thighs, grabbing them and pulling. Mary flailed through the water, both of them fighting for the surface. They burst through in a spray of cool river water, laughing uncontrollably and splashing each other until tears filled their eyes.
Through the blur, Becky saw her friend as if for the first time. Standing breast-deep in the river, the current cascading around her form like a weathered stone, curly hair plastered to her head, Mary looked every inch the siren, but tempered with an expression of innocence. New feelings percolated through Becky’s heart as she took in Mary’s floating breasts, her dark, rounded nipples, the curve of her toned shoulders, the deep brown of her eyes, the chocolate hue of her bare skin. Mary seemed to be contemplating Becky’s shimmering cream skin, brunette hair and modest breasts the same way.
Becky waded towards her friend, who made no move away from her. Slowly, she grasped Mary’s hands, and Mary reciprocated. Holding their arms about in parallel, their bodies touched, Becky cooing at the feel of Mary’s diamond-hard nipples against her own bust, her rounded, pudgy belly against her own toned tummy. The two naked girls giggled, taking in their wide smiles, leaning in closer, closer…
A screech caught their attention as Tilly and Henrietta (the muscular blacksmith’s girl) cannonballed into the river from the opposite shore. It was quite a sight, all the bare young flesh without a care in the world. Standing over them, seemingly satisfied with watching, their musical stranger stood proudly overlooking their juvenile antics.
“Alright girls, time for the grand finale.”
“What’s that?” Monica asked as she guided her cousins from the cool water.
“Right this way.” And with a blow of his flute, they all began extracting themselves from their impromptu skinny dip.
Becky began wringing out her hair as she made to depart. “Sorry.”
But Mary just caressed her cheek. “Don’t be.” She brought her hand down to give Becky’s breast a gentle squeeze, flicking the nipple with her thumb. Then she made her way to the others, Becky giving a small smile after her.
They were in single file now, walking along the edge of the river. They danced and skipped and laughed and joked, more carefree than they ever were. As the sun began to reach its zenith, the stranger suddenly began leading them in a wide circle. It ended with all of them frolicking around him, as he stood in the center playing for them like a gentleman.
“I just love it here,” Bev, the only other black girl in the group, said, her ample globes and bottom bouncing in her dance. “I might never go back home. I just want to stay here forever.”
“And you will,” the man promised.
“What do you mean?” Martha asked curiously.
He ceased his playing and regarded al of them with an easy smile. “Have you ever thought about your destiny? You have all come from near and far to reach this place. All of you so different, yet you have one thing in common that no one else knows about.”
Their faces tilted with curiosity. “Whaddya’ mean?” Tilly asked.
“Tell me, have you ever been satisfied with the lives you were destined to lead? Mary a man to push out kids and clean his house till you’re old and gray? Or did you hope for something more; a secret that only you know but that you would like to share with others? You might not know it now, but all of you are touched by the Earth Herself. You want to give yourselves back to Her, and let me tell you: She is anxious for you to come home.”
“I don’t understand.” Becky was confused.
“Take a look.” He bid them look down, and she did.
Becky saw the seemingly solid ground had enveloped her bare feet like a spoon in a bowl of soft dough. She tugged a little, but they wouldn’t budge. She looked around and saw the other girls regarding their own predicament. Their reactions varied; Mary, Henri, and Tilly were grunting and pulling on their legs, Monica’s toned legs rippling while Mary’s breasts and belly jiggled with her efforts. Hanna and Martha seemed more fascinated with the wobbling mud than anything else. Becky saw clearly than they were all sinking, the thick, undulating substance climbing their calves and shanks. She saw and felt herself descending slowly but steadily.
Strangely, though, she felt very little fear. What fear she did feel was more like a slight chill running up her spine, giving her a excited feeling all over her body, and causing the inside of her cleft to tighten. “What is this, mister?”
“Oh that’s what you’d call…what is it, slow-something or…quicksand. Right, that’s it. You’re all in quicksand.” He said it in a bored tone as if he was telling them what kind of chair they were sitting on.
“Quick-sand?” Hanna asked. “What is this quick-sand?”
The thought sent a wave through Becky that ended with her nipples feeling a lot more sensitive, but she answered her sister’s question with surprising calm. “It’s something you hear about in dime novels. It’s this mud or sand that sucks people in.”
“Sucks people in?” Martha asked. “As in, all the way?”
“That’s what I heard.” Mary answered as she watched the mud climb up to her knees. “But you can stop sinking if you hold completely still.”
“Oh, okay. Then lets do that.” Hanna held her breath, closed her eyes, and stood still and straight as a statue. Becky couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at how ridiculous her sister looked, as well as the other naked girls following suit. The mud just continued climbing up their knees, their feminine forms descending into the rippling, goopy surface.
“I don’t think this quicksand want to cooperate,” Becky pointed out. The girls opened their eyes to see their forms continue sinking, their thighs quickly vanishing. “Uh, girls, I think it’s important that we get out of here before this stuff reaches our…special parts.”
“Why’s that?” Hanna asked.
“I just do.”
The stranger gave no indication of sympathizing with their predicament. Becky thought that he might be at least a little concerned that a group of young women were destined to smoother to death in churning river muck unless a brave, handsome warrior were to extract them.
So concerned was she about the mud just half and inch from her exposed, vulnerable pussy, she only then realized that the man—who continued playing as if nothing were wrong—was sitting in the center of their descending group, completely buoyant. The mire that was sucking their young, helpless forms didn’t even curve around his bare feet or bottom. It was as if he wasn’t there on the fluid surface at all.
“Now, now, girls, let’s not complain about our current situation. After all, who wants to spend their last moments on Earth being upset of panicky? All there is left is now.” He turned specifically to Becky. “Better watch your precious little parts there, miss. All bare like that; anything can happen down there.”
She was about to make a snide retort when she felt the first signs of the viscous quagmire touch her lower lips. She let out a soft coo, biting her lips, trying to resist the urge to yelp out her pleasure. It felt nice, all soft and gentle and soothing and caressing. She settled in deeper and the goop cupped her mound, flowing over her puffy lips and clit. While distracted by the sensation of being groped and fondled by the yielding mud, she could sense the other girls becoming acquainted with their new dance partner. She could hear some “yips” of surprise, and more than a few moans and groans. Some closed their eyes and let the sensations wash over them, others rolled their eyes back into their head as the viscous, creamy mud began snaking over, upwards, and in, licking them from the inside out. A few, like her sister and Mary, wiggled around in the muck, sending ripples in all directions, their half-buried torsos oscillating up and down with the tide of the deadly gumbo.
Becky could already feel the quicksand filling her up down below, instinctively clenching her special parts as it began filling her like her husband never could. But quicksand doesn’t care if you’re a proper lady or a holy girl, it doesn’t give a damn if your pure, or virtuous, or pious, it doesn’t wait for your consent and doesn’t care if you like it. It just takes. She held her hand over her mouth to stile a scream as the mud began filling up her clenching tunnel, while simultaneously widening her virgin pucker to begin the last act of filling up her rectum, stealing her last virginity.
“Ooooooh, now I can get used to this,” Hanna giggled as her new lover violated her. She leaned over and gave Martha a loud, sloppy kiss, which Mary’s young cousin reciprocated. All around them, girls had turned to each other, fondling, groping, caressing, wives and innocents alike, making the most of what little time they had.
“Funny,” Mary caught Becky’s attention. “I expected my little cousin to be a good, pious girl and make a family with a strong, hard-working husband.” Her hand wandered to Becky’s vanishing bottom and gave it a squeeze. “And now, the only lover she’ll ever have is a pit full of filthy mud in the ground. I guess you were right, we should have gotten out before this stuff got into…us.”
“Now watch how you use that word, ‘filthy’,” the stranger interrupted his melody. “Soil is a beautiful thing; what every living being turns into after it leaves this world. So we all go back to the Earth and help nourish all the plants and animals in it. You get the honor of doing so while you’re still young, healthy, and beautiful. Congratulations.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Becky regarded her own descending form, her hips having given into the inexorable pull of the greedy quicksand. “Hey Mary, what we were doing earlier—?“
“Say no more.” As best they could, they leaned over the goop between them and began a rigorous bout of smooching. When they pulled apart, a bridge of intermixed spittle bridged her hanging tongues, much to their delight.
As they began moving on to their breasts, taking turns suckling one then the other, Becky watched her fellow future fertilizer as they made their own downward journeys. Monica was busy kissing her two cousins on either side of her, caressing their bare shoulders and cutely squeezing the belly pudge of her oldest. Martha and Hanna continued churning the mud with their careless actions, anxious to feel as much of their skin slide against each other as possible. Mia had stuck a hand in front of her, gently teasing her no doubt engorged clit while the other caressed a small, rounded boob, pinching the nipple between her fingers. Tilly was already to her breasts, violently diddling herself silly, crying her pleasure loud and hard to the empty air.
“Seems that the more we move, the faster we sink.” Becky noted.
“Are you saying that we should stop and hold still?” Mary asked.
Becky smirked. “Not at all.” The two girls separated and began following suit, searching the muck for their sacred clefts and, upon finding them, went about making room for the violating mire to fill them up even more, pressing against a nerve cluster deep inside their resisting walls.
Suddenly, all of their attention turned in the direction of a series of bubbles. “Oh, oh, oh yes, oh yes! Oh my god I’m blug glug blurblegluggluggloop…” Henri, her strength now working against her, screamed her final climax as she drove her head smoothly under the treacherous mire, bubbles foaming before her submerged eyes. Then, struggling for yet another orgasm, the mud rose around her forehead and began on her hair.
“Wow…She really didn’t mind drowning to death for that last bit of pleasure.” Martha stared spellbound. “I wonder if it will really be that good.”
“Only one way to find out.” Hanna began following suit, rubbing herself and watching Martha fondle her floating breasts, bring pushed upward by the thickness of the enveloping quagmire.
To Becky’s right, Tilly was collarbone-deep in the muck, and she gave no sign that her imminent death by smothering in thick fluid was in any way fazing her.
The entire time, the stranger serenaded them with his beautiful song. It seemed a wonderful thing to know that it was the very last piece of music any of them would ever hear.
“Tilly, you know what’s happening, don’t you?” Becky asked. The orgasm-drunk girl nodded. “You’re going to drown in that muck, all helpless and trying to get a breath but instead you get a thick muddy ocean stuffing your lungs while you try and wring out another orgasm before you go to sleep and never wake up. You realize that, right?”
Tilly’s answer was to giggle like an intoxicated lunatic. “Yeah…and I can’t wait for it to happen.” Without taking a breath, she shoved her face into the mire with a loud splat, fighting the thickness of the mud to force her head all the way in. Bubbles exploded as she carelessly blew away what little air she had, no regard for her precious earthly life as her magnificent blonde hair piled into a thick, swirling vortex. The last golden strand vanished soundlessly.
The bubbles stopped quickly, speaking volumes of their friend’s fate.
“Now that is hot,” Mary rubbed faster.
“Yeah. I wanted to hold off on drowning for a little longer but I’m not…sure…I…can!” Becky huffed as her lust over came her. Her tunnel clamped down on the mud inside of her, trying to force it out but to no avail. She belonged to the quicksand now and if it felt like ravishing her, owning her, demeaning her, treating her as a set of fuckable holes and gropable parts, then it was fully in its right.
“Look,” Hanna called out, drawing their attention. She was breast-deep, her nipples halfway buried in the muck, while Martha’s ample bosom was being surrounded by the unyielding surface of the sucking quicksand. “I’m almost there.”
“Now, Hanna.” Becky began in a stern, authoritative voice. “I know that you are of age and now a lady, not a girl. That being said, that doesn’t mean that you can go about and sink to your death willy-nilly whenever you feel like it.” She kept her fingers working down below as the mud gradually encircled her waist. “I am your older sister and I say that you simply cannot just go on a little adventure like this all by yourself.”
“Oh really.” Hanna chided her sister, as if daring her to exert her authority.
“Therefore, I will serve as your chaperone and accompany you down to the depths of the quicksand. What do you say?”
Hanna smirked smugly. “I think it’s a great idea, sis. Now watch me do the last disappearing act I’ll ever do in my life.”
While they were teasing each other, the girls were making their way to different heights as they gave in or resisted the urge to diddle themselves to a quicker oblivion. Monica was saying her final goodbyes to Jacqueline and Amanda, and had you been there, you would have sworn you were hearing an excitement in their voices, as if they were just about to embark on a joyful family vacation.
“Now remember girls, these are out last moments of our mortal lives so be sure not to waste them. You remember what I showed you: just move your fingers around like—oooh!—that, and keep going. Don’t stop until you run out of breath, and whatever you do, no matter how tempted you are, keep holding your breath until the end.”
“Okay, cousin. We’re ready.” The mud cupped their chins but neither girl tilted her head back, not an ounce of fear in their eyes.
“Such good girls. Such brave girls.” She watched them with so much love as her shoulders went under.
“What do we have to be brave about? In a few minutes we’ll feel like this all over our bodies and then we’ll die with smiles on our faces.”
“That’s right.” Amanda spoke up. “No more chores, no more waiting for a husband, no more stable-cleaning. Our only responsibility to is feel really good before we drown and die.” With that, the quicksand took their mouths, reducing their words into gurgling coos.
“That right, girls. I love you Amanda. I love you Jacqueline. I’ll see you soon. Bye-bye.” Their eyes fluttered shut for the last time and the goopy muck flowed over their heads and began drawing their long tangles down with them.
“Guess I’m on my own.” Neck-deep, Monica casually began working her muddy womanhood down below, certain that the feeling of her cousin’s orgasmic, thrashing deaths would bring her to a massive climax quite worth dying for.
As bubbles erupted from where the two girls met their ends, Mia began blowing her own bubbles into the muck, eyes crossed as she watched her life-giving breath gurgle loudly away, while Bev, a head taller, puckered her lips in anticipation of taking her last gasps. Nancy was leaning across the mire, had been passionately kissing the two girls next to her, but pulled away when she got too deep. She watched with devilish anticipation as Mia gave her a cheeky wink and prepared to settle into her brand new home. All around them there were fewer screams and wails of ecstasy and more flurries of thick, frothy bubbles.
The sisters and cousins watched one another as a family, pointedly interested in the pleasure of each other’s last minutes on Earth. As her floating breasts vanished with mud bubbling through her cleavage, Hanna cooed as she gently played with her violated pussy, a few quick flicks of her fingertips all she needed to reach her peak time and again.
“Well, little sis. It looks like you’re a goner.”
“Yeah, I am.” Hanna watched the muck reach her chin and kept her face up. Martha had lost control and was now nose deep, her eyes widening as her air was cut off for the final time. Then her eyes rolled back into her head as it took them too, her forehead and vanishing, curly hair all that was left of her.
Mary contemplated her departing cousin, who she had always protected. “Bye, cousin. Hope you’re enjoying yourself down there.” She quickly continued tickling her swollen lips as her tunnel was stuffed to the brim, Martha forgotten in the midst of a series of orgasms.
Suddenly, Hanna shrieked in orgasm. She turned her head up to give herself a few seconds more as the mud climbed her face.
“Oh…my…where did that come from?” She blushed like a tomato, even after all that. “I…I think I did something wrong.”
“What do you mean?” Becky asked from her own breast-deep vantage point. Her own globes were being lifted by the mucky surface—undulating with the submerged motions of happily dying girls—and pushed against her chest, the thick, goopy mud enveloping them lovingly.
“I think I sprayed something into the mud, but I don’t…”
“It’s normal.” The stranger addressed them. “It means that the quicksand made you feel especially good. Let me guess, your husbands never managed to make you feel this way.” Becky and Mary shook their heads. They, and Hanna, were all who were left, Nancy having writhed her way to a bubbly end just seconds before. “Then consider it a return for the pleasure that She gave you just now. Trust me, She loves the taste of a girl’s cum.”
“Oh. I see. Thank you mister stranger, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Hanna.” Becky responded. “I did it a couple of times, too.”
From her motions, Hanna was clearly trying to get her orgasms going again. “Can I do it one more time before I’m gone?”
“That’s all up to you, young lady. But I’d hurry if I were you…you don’t have a lot of time to waste.”
“Thanks.” Her voice drifted as she began another, fatal massage, her motions dooming her. The mud climbing up the side of her face, she gave her last farewells. “G’bye sis. I love you so much. You’re the best big sister in the world.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet of you to say.”
“G’bye Mary. I’ll tell Martha how much you love her…I hafta go now…see you soon…” And with that, she resigned herself to her bubbly demise and just let the quicksand flow right over her upturned face. A cascade of bubbles marked her young grave, which slowly began to fade as Becky said goodbye to her proud breasts for the last time.
“Bye sis.” A small, sentimental tear flowed down Becky’s cheek. But it was quickly replaced by the sweet, snug, gentle caress of the lethal mire. Having wrung herself dry, her pussy and ass stuffed completely full of mud so there was no room for more, she surrendered to the feel of her descent as the muck rolled around and churned inside her, caressing her shoulders. It was time to accept her new, permanent home.
“Hey, Mary.” The sinking girl turned from her neck-deep position. “I just wanted to say…”
“You don’t have to.”
“I love you…And I’m sorry that we couldn’t enjoy more time together. For what it’s worth, would you be my wife, ‘till death do us part?”
Mary smiled as she began tilting her head back, mud gurgling hungrily all around them. “Absolutely. In fact, can’t this be a wedding right now, our vows in a sinking mudpit?”
“Why not?” the stranger answered. “You could say that I have that kind of authority, so when you reach Her, she’ll recognize you as loving wife and wife.”
“Thanks, stranger. And thank you for the song.”
“My pleasure.”
“Well, I guess this is it.” Mary brought a free hand to her nose. “I’ll see you at the bottom, sweetie. Deep breath.” She plugged her nose, puffed her cheeks like a little girl, and let the viscous goop slop over her helpless face. Only her full head of drying hair marked her final resting place.”
“Bye…my wife.” Becky knew it was her turn, alone, neck deep in front of the stranger. All of the cascades of bubbles had slowed down to a complete halt, leaving her a single, lone head violating the liquid Earth. She let her hand wander around her pussy lips while the other gave a few more squeezes to her tit. Soon the mud would have the last of her holes to violate, leaving no part of her that wasn’t completely owned by it, body, mind, or soul.
“You’re just going to watch, aren’t you? Not going to do a thing to help me?” He just stared, seemingly humored. “Well, not sure I could ask for much. I’m guessing that even twenty men couldn’t save my life now.” The mire took her chin, and she tilted her head back a bit, but not much. Trying to delay it wouldn’t do a lot of good. “Would you at the very least tell me your name?”
He did.
“Huh. I guess that does make quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it?”
Her only answer was mud taking her mouth and flowing into her ears. She watched him the entire time, his face showing only amusement, not an ounce of guilt, remorse, or shame at having watched a dozen girls, young, vibrant, beautiful, and with their entire lives ahead of them, drown to death in bottomless quicksand. Becky didn’t even panic when her nose went under, only regretting not having taken a deeper breath. But that was alright; more air just meant a few more seconds and then it would end all the same. She shut her eyes, the stranger her last vision before thick, earthy muckiness surrounded her head and flowing hair.
She was gone, all hope and all traces of her vanished from the world. Beneath the mud, she smiled, completely satisfied with the hand that life dealt her. Rather than orgasm herself to a smothery oblivion like some of the girls, she let herself settle down in the mire, letting her breath float up to the surface while her body sank forever with her friends.
Above the quicksand, the man watched nonchalantly as the last few bubbles broke the surface. They lasted a good long while, a tribute to their owner’s resilience, and then the surface settled and came to a rest, no indication remaining that it was ever violated, or that a group of innocent girls had sunk to death just moments before. Satisfied, he stretched out, sunning himself, his flute resting next to him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a large, black bird landing on the ground a few feet away. He regarded it casually, even as its head faced him.
“Yes, I know what you’re thinking. ‘There he goes again, having his fun.’ Well, what was I supposed to do? Those outsiders need to understand that you don’t treat people like that in this place.” The bird tilted its head at him. “Don’t give me that. You know I have an eye for beauty, and they were the best batch yet. Maybe someday another band will treat me right and their own batch of girls won’t wind up as fertilizer with the rest.
“Still, it wasn’t as though they got the short end of the stick, now, was it? I’m sure you saw them, heard them. Earth wanted them, touched them. They could have spent their lives not knowing, but thanks to me, they are where people like them are meant to be. So there.” He mimicked a petulant child.
When he turned, he was unsurprised to see a naked, brown-skinned woman, her body adorned with tattoos not known to any tribe. She was fit, statuesque, her arms crossed around her flawless breasts. She looked down at him like a disappointed mentor.
“Alright, I was a bit greedy. But you were watching too, weren’t you. You enjoyed it. Or is there another reason why you didn’t swoop in a save those girls from their certain deaths?”
She simply rolled her eyes with an amused half-smile.
“Well, this had been a good start to the day. What do you say we go upriver and grab some brunch, huh? My treat.”
He made his way over to her, and she gave in and walked by his side. Had anyone been privy to this exchange they would have seen the spectacular sight of a naked, savage woman walking peacefully down a wide river next to a furry, four-legged creature, leaving behind a pool filled with sexy, happily drowned girls.
