The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

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JSample
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The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Sun May 12, 2019 2:30 am

THE GIRL (or, Angela’s Story: A Side-quel to “The Kid”)

by Jason Sample
December 2018–May 2019

Having revealed her quicksand fetish to Jason after he had rescued her from the sucking mire, Angela falls asleep next to her hero in the mud, safe in his arms from the mortal threat that had nearly claimed them both, only to awaken to discover that they have come under attack from an unexpected but not unfamiliar source.

(Author's note: If you have not yet read "The Kid," you may ignore the rest of this paragraph and enjoy the final installment of "The Girl." However, if you have read my earlier story, you will quickly notice that the narrative sequence in the remaining chapter of this story parallels that of chapter seven of the previous one. Jason's and Angela's conversation and interactions with each other after he rescues her from the quicksand are necessarily identical in both stories, as are their interactions with other characters who eventually arrive on the scene, but whereas "The Kid" told its story from Jason's viewpoint, "The Girl" presents the same sequence of events from Angela's perspective... the result being an entirely new story.)

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The Girl (Part 8): Angela’s Promise


It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and as she was so fond of doing, Angela was playing happily in the mud by the shore of the river near her waterfront home. The thick, gooey muck felt refreshingly cool on her skin in the heat of the day, and she enjoyed its goopy texture as she would gather it up and squeeze it in the palms of her hands, watching with fascination as it oozed through her fingers before plopping back to the surface. As she sat in the mud with her feet stretched out in front of her she impulsively decided to test her strength against its grip, and without a second thought she drove her legs downward into the mire as far as she could, holding them there for a few seconds and relishing the sensation of being trapped before starting to pull them back up again. However, the mud seemed unwilling to release her legs, and so she pressed her hands below the surface by her sides to give herself added leverage as she struggled to free herself from its hold on her. But the more she pushed with her hands and pulled with her legs against the sticky muck, the more it resisted her efforts, and so with growing frustration she continued trying to wriggle and pull herself loose until suddenly, to her utter horror, a multitude of muddy hands, more than she could count, exploded from the surface of the mire and began grasping possessively at her body, seemingly intent upon dragging her down with them into the smothering depths. With her arms and legs now ensnared in the clinging muck, she was powerless to resist the gripping hands’ hold on her as they drew her deeper into the miry abyss, her waist, chest, and shoulders quickly becoming engulfed as the clutching ooze sucked her down until it had encircled her neck and was lapping at her lower jaw, forcing her to tilt her head back in the mud to keep her face free. In her terror she tried to scream for help, but she was no more able to cry out than to breathe as the muddy hands now enveloped her face in their relentless grip as they pulled her deeper into the muck, while a heavy, malevolent cackle sounded in her ears, reveling in her absolute helplessness in the inescapable grasp of the quicksand. As she was about go under, an authoritative voice abruptly called out from behind her, rebuking both the mire and its clasp on the frightened girl as something heavy hit the mud quite near to her head.

“Get your hands off my daughter!” an older woman’s voice gruffly demanded, the muddy hands grudgingly relinquishing their hold on their prey and slipping back beneath the surface as Angela’s mind stirred weakly back to consciousness.

“M… Mom?” Angela murmured blearily as she slowly awakened from her suffocating nightmare — My… my gosh… am I gonna have dreams like this… every time I fall asleep? she wondered trepidatiously — the lingering effects of exhaustion after her earlier struggles against the quicksand still weighing heavily upon her despite her brief rest in the mud next to Jason. Jason! she suddenly remembered. That’s right! I… I fell asleep in the mud… next to Jason… after he saved me… from…

Her blurry recollection of recent events and of her current circumstance was interrupted by another weighty impact in the mud very near to her, and as Angela lifted her head and opened her eyes she saw standing over both her and Jason the figure of her mother, anger flashing in her eyes as she swung her oversized and overstuffed swim bag over her shoulder in preparation to bring it down once more onto Jason’s unsuspecting head.

“Mom!” Angela shouted in dismay, “What are you doing?!”

“What am I doing?!” her mother retorted fiercely. “What are you doing? What the hell is he doing?!” She turned her attention and her ire back toward the half-awake man holding her naked daughter in his embrace in the mud as he groaned weakly under the effects of the first two blows that the older woman had inflicted upon his skull even as she brought her swim bag down onto him for a third time. “I said, get your filthy hands off my daughter, you damned pervert!”

“Stop hitting him, Mom!” Angela protested to her mother, pushing herself up over Jason’s supine form, her right hand pressing into his chest as she rose from the mud and extended her left arm outward in a not completely successful attempt to block him from further attack as he painfully awakened from his slumber. Jason risked everything to save me from the quicksand, Angela insisted resolutely to herself; I’m not about to let my moralistic mother bash his head in!

“What the hell were you doing sleeping naked in the mud next to this jackass?!” Angela’s mother demanded angrily of her daughter as the younger woman rose first to her knees and then to her feet, still defending her hero from her mother’s wrath. “Answer me, young lady!”

“Mom, it’s not what you think!” Angela replied defensively as she stepped out of the mud onto dry ground, still grappling with her mother over the swim bag that she had been using as a weapon against Jason, who meanwhile continued groaning as he lay in the sticky muck, still recovering from both the fog of sleep and the unexpected series of blows against his cranium.

“Um…” Jason said uncertainly and painfully as he struggled to extricate himself from the suction of the foot-deep mud in which he lay, his voice drowned out by the volume of Angela’s and her mother’s altercation.

“All I know,” the older woman continued irritably, “is that your sister and I came rowing over here in the canoe to look for you after you didn’t come back from swimming in the river, and when we got here we found your bikini on the riverbank and you sleeping naked in the mud next to this… this pervert, draped over him like a blanket! Angela, you know better than that! You’re better than that!” she groused sharply. “Here, put this towel around you before anyone else sees you!” she added impatiently as she thrust a beach towel that she had been carrying over her shoulder toward her muddy, naked daughter.

“Mom, you weren’t even here! You don’t even know what happened!” Angela responded indignantly as she took the towel and threw it angrily to the ground. While she may have acquiesced to her mother’s moral scruples over nudity and sexuality in the past, she grumbled silently, after all that she had endured in the quicksand earlier that day and had shared with Jason after he had rescued her from it, she was in no mood now to play the role of her mother’s chaste, obedient little girl.

“Um… ladies…?” Jason said a little louder this time, still unable to free himself from his miry mattress.

“I don’t have to have been here to know full well what happened, young lady, because all men are alike! You know that, Angela!” her mother responded to her derisively. “I can see it now: You meet this jerk by the river, you talk awhile, he acts like he’s all kind and caring, it’s a hot day, maybe you go swimming together, then he sweet talks you out of your bikini and takes advantage of you!”

“Mom, sometimes you are just so… so…” Angela stammered in frustration.

“Ladies!” Jason interjected, shouting as he held his right arm up out of the mud. “A little help, please…?” His request was met with another emphatic blow from the older woman’s oversized swim bag against the side of his head.

“Mom!” Angela shouted, finally wresting the bag away from her mother by its strap and throwing it toward the middle of the dirt path, “Stop it!” She then turned back toward Jason, reaching over and taking his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry, Jason, it’s just… oooh, my mother,” she apologized as she quickly pulled him free from his reclining position in the mud in one smooth, seemingly effortless motion. He sat upright in the mud for a moment, apparently surprised and impressed by her unexpected display of physical prowess, before effortfully struggling to his feet.

“If we could all please just… calm down, all of us,” Jason said in an even tone of voice, grasping his mud-soaked shorts by the belt and pulling them back up to their normal position at his hips as he stood up and began stepping out of the mud onto solid ground. “I think there’s been a big misunderstanding between Angela, here, and you, Mrs… um…” For the first time since having been so rudely awakened Jason looked directly at the belligerent woman’s face as she glowered at him. “Mrs…” he said again, a bit more hesitantly this time as he continued gazing intently at the woman.

Both Angela and her mother stared back at Jason, intrigued and a little unnerved by his odd behavior, Angela especially so as she recalled his earlier antics with his invisible “friend” when he had been trying to reach her while she was trapped and sinking in the quicksand. Standing next to each other, the two women might almost have been mistaken for twins, even though more than three decades separated them; the mother stood the same height as her daughter and looked to be in her mid-fifties, and even though her face was still red with anger at Jason and the questionable circumstance in which she had found him with her daughter, her emotional extreme couldn’t hide the clear family resemblance between the two women. Her clothing befitted the warmth of the summer afternoon; she had worn a white tee shirt over her bikini top, a pair of denim shorts, and red flip-flops for her canoe trip to search for her daughter. Her figure was a bit fuller than her daughter’s and understandably so, given both her years and her having borne two children in her life, but it was evident that she worked out, given the force with which she had been pummeling Jason’s head while he lay in the mud. Her hair was a slightly lighter shade of auburn than was Angela’s, but it still bore the natural reddish coloring that would have fully graced her head in her younger years, and her piercing green eyes perfectly matched those of her daughter.

“What are you looking at, asshole?” the older woman challenged Jason.

“Your name is also Angela,” he replied matter-of-factly.

Both women stared back at him, a look of complete surprise on their faces. “How the hell do you know my name?” the mother demanded of him.

“Um, yeah, how do you know it?” her daughter chimed in with equal confusion. “I never told you that my mom and I have the same first name. Oh my gosh, do you two know each other?” she asked him incredulously. That would be the capstone to this most unusual day of her life, Angela thought as she wondered how Jason could have possibly guessed her mother’s name, although she couldn’t imagine how or where the two of them might have met before this moment.

“I’ve never seen this bastard before in my life!” her mother retorted indignantly.

“Lucky guess,” Jason replied cryptically as he rubbed his head where it had been smacked by the swim bag, evidently unwilling as yet to shed light on how it was that he knew the older woman’s name, which only added to Angela’s growing amazement over this stranger who had risked his life to save hers. “As I said before,” he then offered in a calm tone of voice in an apparent attempt to mollify matters now that both women had quite clearly forgotten their earlier argument with each other, “there’s been a big misunderstanding that I think your daughter, here,” he said, gesturing toward the younger woman, “can easily clear up, ma’am, if you will let her.”

“Um… yeah, Mom,” Angela said hesitantly, remembering her mother’s earlier refusal to listen to her explanation of why she was sleeping naked next to Jason in the mud, “it really isn’t what you think it is.”

“Oh, really?” her mother replied sarcastically, “Then why don’t you tell me just ‘what it is’?”

“Okay, I will,” Angela answered her nervously, looking back at Jason as he nodded his head toward her. “All right. First, Mother,” she said, gesturing in his direction, “Jason isn’t a pervert, he’s not a jackass, he’s not a jerk, and he’s not a bastard or an asshole. He’s a perfect gentleman, and he’s the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He saved my life!”

“Really?” her mother replied disbelievingly to her. “And you know that he ‘saved your life’ because… he told you he did! Let me guess: You got a cramp while swimming, he helped you back to shore, then he told you that you would’ve died if not for him, and then he convinced you to show him your ‘appreciation’!”

“Ooooooh!” Angela turned away and clenched her fists, groaning at her mother’s obstinance. It was bad enough that the older woman wouldn’t even listen to her attempts to explain what had and hadn’t happened earlier, she grumbled with growing frustration, but it was even worse that her mother had immediately leaped to the worst possible conclusions regarding both her own daughter and a stranger who had risked his life for her; for that matter, immediately leaping to the worst possible conclusions about others seemed to be one of the hallmarks and legacies of religion in her mother’s life, Angela angrily considered… except when it came to men to whom the older woman found herself attracted. This wasn’t the first time that Angela had become exasperated with her mom, she recognized, nor was it likely to be the last.

As she pondered how she was going to convince her mother that things weren’t as she was angrily insisting that they were, Angela spotted her younger sister Amy standing a short distance away, her eyes directed toward the screen of her cell phone. The nineteen-year-old was barefoot and clad in a bright pink bikini, and aside from her brown hair and eyes she looked very much like her older sister, as Angela had noticed years before. The younger girl appeared to be fully engrossed with her phone, oblivious to the ongoing row between her older sister and her mother, but Angela knew her sibling well enough to suspect otherwise. You’re standing there like you couldn’t care less what’s going on between Mom and me, Angela said silently to Amy as she gazed in her direction, but I’ll bet you’re posting every word of this on your social media, along with photos and video of me and Jason as well...

Angela left her sister to her phone as she turned back toward her mother in another bid to convince the older woman to abandon her foregone conclusions about Jason and her oldest daughter. “Listen to me, Mom! Look out there in the middle of the mudflat!” Angela demanded of her mother as she pointed toward the deep mud that had nearly claimed her life. “Here at the edge it’s only a foot or so deep, but out there it’s bottomless quicksand!

“Quicksand?” her younger sister suddenly piped up as she pulled her nose away from her phone, her interest piqued by the unexpected word from her older sister’s lips. “That stuff’s not even real, is it?”

“Yes, Amy, it most certainly is,” Angela answered her sister defensively, “and not only is it real, but I fell into it, and I couldn’t get out! If you two are wondering why I’m covered with mud from head to toe, it’s because I actually went under! I almost died! Then Jason here…” She paused and looked back toward him, her voice catching momentarily as she remembered her terror at sinking beneath the surface and the risk that he had taken to rescue her, “Jason… jumped in and pulled me out,” she continued, her voice still a little shaky, “even though he could’ve died, too. He saved my life. He’s… he’s my hero.”

“He saved you from quicksand?!” Amy asked, staring at her older sister in amazement. “Cooool!” she then exclaimed, turning her attention back to her phone as her fingers resumed their fluttering over the device’s screen.

“How very ‘Tarzan’ of him!” her mother replied, rolling her eyes dismissively. “He saved the ‘damsel in distress’ from ‘quicksand!’” she went on disbelievingly as she turned her ire back toward her older daughter. “Let’s say that’s all true, Angela. Let’s say your ‘hero’ here did in fact ‘save your life,’ as you put it. Well, having so ‘heroically’ rescued you, he probably figured it was only fair for you to put on a little show for him in return, to give him a little strip-tease while you pulled off your bikini, and to let him fuck you right here in the mud!” she shouted, jabbing the index finger of her left hand downward for emphasis.

“That’s not what happened!” her older daughter exploded in frustration. “For your information, Mother dear, after Jason saved my life, I wanted to fuck him!

The directness of Angela’s admission seemed to have taken her mother by surprise, and for once the older woman had nothing to say in response. Even Amy appeared to have momentarily forgotten all about her phone as she stared and listened, spellbound, to her sister’s frank admission of her sexual desire.

“Yes, Mom,” Angela continued, her voice a little softer now, “I wanted to make passionate love to Jason right here in the mud after he pulled me out of the quicksand, and I would have, too, except that he said ‘no’!

He said ‘no’?” her mother repeated disbelievingly as she turned her attention back to Jason, sizing up his barefoot, shirtless, mud-covered frame from head to toe with a disdainful smirk on her face. “What’s the matter, you dumb prick?” she challenged him. “My little girl not good enough for you?”

Jason stared back at the older woman with a dumbfounded expression on his face at the seamlessness with which she had apparently changed her mind regarding him; first she had been livid at the idea that he had taken advantage of her daughter, and now she was berating him for his not having made the attempt.

The older woman continued regarding him derisively as she stood with her elbows out to her sides and her fists on her hips, shaking her head dismissively. “Doesn’t matter anyway, I suppose,” she said mockingly. “Ol’ ‘grandpa’ here probably couldn’t even get it up in the first place.”

Jason crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head slightly, glaring over the frames of his bifocals at the older woman as he scrunched his right eyebrow high into his forehead, while Angela burst out laughing next to him. “What’s so funny?” her mother demanded of her daughter as she went down on one knee, overcome with hilarity at her mother’s cluelessness.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Angela chortled to Jason between heaving breaths, “She thinks you… ‘couldn’t’… ha-ha-ha-ha!” He smiled and joined in with her laughter, and even Amy started giggling lightly as it became clear to everyone there — well, perhaps clear to everyone except for Angela’s mother — that whatever moral high ground that the older woman had hoped to stake out over her daughter and especially over Jason had been forever lost. Oh, my god, Mom! Angela said to herself, still crouching on one knee as she tried to catch her breath. You act like such a holier-than-thou know-it-all, and then you go and say something like that without even knowing how much like Grandpa Jason actually is!

“Mom, you really don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!” Angela gasped through her laughter, recognizing the older woman’s moralistic posturing toward Jason as her attempt to mask the pain of her former husband’s many betrayals over the years, “but I love you anyway!” She rose as she recovered herself, then walked over to her mother and, still chuckling, gave her a big hug that left the front of the older woman’s shirt and pants smeared with mud. “For your information,” Angela continued laughingly as her mother looked down at herself and gasped in dismay as she started trying to wipe the mud from her clothes, “Jason said ‘no’ not because ‘I’m not good enough for him’ or ‘he couldn’t get it up’; he said ‘no’ because he’s a kind, sweet, decent gentleman… and he knows what it means to treat a woman with respect.”

“Oh, really?” her mother responded with as much dignity as she could muster after the others’ amusement at her expense while she continued wiping futilely at her muddy clothing with her hands. “Well, if he’s so ‘respectful’ of you, how did he manage to get you out of your damned bikini? Or did it conveniently ‘fall off’ while he was ‘rescuing’ you?”

“Jason had nothing to do with it, Mom,” Angela replied testily, her feelings of exasperation beginning to return. “If you must know, I was already naked in the mud before he even showed… um, before he even… showed up.” She stumbled over her words as both her mother and sister stared at her in astonishment, and with a sinking feeling Angela realized that in her desire to exonerate Jason in her mother’s eyes she had inadvertently raised more questions than she had answered.

“You were already naked…?” her mother said in a low, disbelieving voice.

“Why were you already… naked in the mud?” Amy asked uncomfortably, not sure what to make of her older sister’s unexpected admission.

Ohhhhh, god… Angela berated herself as her face flushed with embarrassment, it was bad enough when I let it slip to Jason that I have a quicksand fetish, but now… She stood motionless, inhaling slowly as she pondered how she was possibly going to explain to her mother and sister that she had a “thing” for deep mud and quicksand, when Jason came to her rescue once again.

“She said she wanted to take a natural mud bath,” he spoke up quickly, “like at a spa, only out in the open, since no one else was around. The beauty of nature and all,” he said, gesturing at their surroundings. “That’s what she told me after I pulled her out of the quicksand.”

“Y-yeah,” Angela said, glancing at him as she followed his lead. “It was… such a warm day, and the mud looked so cool and inviting, so I took off my bikini and settled in for what I thought would be a relaxing mud bath,” she offered in explanation to her mother and sister, shakily recalling the blissful ignorance with which she had endangered herself in the treacherous mudflat. “I just didn’t realize when I stepped into it that it was bottomless quicksand. Jason heard my cries and came to help, but I went under before he could pull me out. You do understand that, don’t you, Mom?” she asked as she looked pleadingly at her mother. “I almost died in the quicksand. And if Jason hadn’t come along when he did and saved me, neither you nor Amy would’ve ever known what had happened to me.”

Something in the tone of Angela’s voice seemed to get through to her mother as the older woman appeared at last to be paying less attention to the fact that her daughter was standing naked and covered with mud next to a stranger and more to the fact that she had been in mortal danger.

“Then after I went under,” Angela continued tearfully, a lump forming in her throat as she remembered how frightened she had been, “Jason jumped in and pulled me out, and then he gave me mouth-to-mouth because I wasn’t breathing. Then after he revived me it took so much time and energy to get out of the quicksand that when we finally made it to the shallow part we fell asleep from exhaustion. And I promise you, Mom, that’s why I was sleeping naked next to Jason in the mud when you and Amy got here.”

The older woman gazed at her nude, muddy daughter, the expression in her eyes softening as she began to consider just how close she had come to losing her oldest child. “Is that what really happened… um, Jason, is it?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am, it is,” he replied calmly.

“And there was nothing weird or kinky going on between the two of you… in the mud?” she inquired, gesturing toward both him and Angela with one hand and toward the mudflat with the other.

“No, ma’am, there wasn’t,” he answered.

“Well, if that’s so, then what’s with that rope hanging off your ass like a rat’s tail?” she persisted, pointing to the ground behind him. “You two weren’t playing a game of ‘tie me up,’ were you?”

“No, Mom, we weren’t,” Angela answered, rolling her eyes as she intercepted her mother’s accusation with more than a hint of annoyance in her voice. “The rope is how Jason saved me. You see those two rocks?” she asked, pointing to the knotted end of the rope on the ground and the jutting rocks between which it had snagged. “Jason tied the rope to his belt and hooked the other end of it on those rocks so that he would have his arms free to pull me out of the quicksand after he jumped in to rescue me.”

Her mother glanced at the rope, one end of it caught between the two rocks, its length snaking into the mudflat, surfacing here and there in the ooze before finally emerging and making its way to the back of Jason’s belt. She frowned as she reflected on her daughter’s and Jason’s explanations of what had happened and why they had been sleeping next to each other in the mud, seeming to recognize that their story made perfect sense… perhaps too perfect. “You two are sure that… nothing… happened between the two of you before I got here?” she asked again.

“Nothing,” Jason replied.

“You promise?” Angela’s mother asked emphatically.

“Yes,” Jason replied, looking her in the eye, “I promise.

The older woman looked back and forth between Jason and her oldest daughter, still not certain if she should believe their words as the two of them gazed back at her. “Mom,” Angela finally spoke up, “I can assure you from very recent experience that when Jason makes a promise, he means it.”

Her mother’s countenance at last lightened at Angela’s words and in the face of her united front with Jason. “Well, I still don’t like the idea of you sleeping naked in the mud next to a stranger,” the older woman insisted to her, “but since he still has his pants on, and you both promise that nothing happened, I suppose I owe you both an apology for jumping to conclusions,” she relented, adding, “and a ‘thank you’ to you, Jason, for saving my daughter’s life.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, his tone softening at the older woman’s apparent change of heart.

“Yeah,” Amy piped up from behind Jason and Angela, “thanks for saving my big sister. From quicksand! Wow, my followers are gonna love this!” she exclaimed as she again buried her nose in her phone.

Angela heard Jason groan quietly at her sister’s words; apparently he was none too pleased about the prospect of their “trending” among the younger girl’s social media contacts, but Angela felt that there was something that she could do… something that she had been wanting to do… that might take his mind off any consternation that he might feel over it. “Yes,” she said softly as she turned and took Jason’s hand in hers, “thank you, Jason, for saving me.” She stepped toward him, a smile of gratitude on her face as she extended her arms around his neck to give him a hug. Jason placed his arms around her muddy waist, hesitantly at first but then more certainly, to hug her in return, and for several seconds the two enjoyed a chaste embrace together by the edge of the mudflat until Angela suddenly turned her face toward his and planted a long, wet, sloppy kiss directly on his lips as she pressed her naked body tightly against his frame. His eyebrows arched upward as his eyes popped wide open at her unexpected passionate display.

Angela sensed his apprehension as she held him in her arms. It’s okay, Jason, she silently reassured him as she continued to press her lips against his, I remember what we talked about earlier. Besides, it’s not like we’re going to start making love in front of my mother and sister. I just wanted to kiss you while I still had the chance… She felt his momentary resistance finally melt away in her embrace as he kissed her gently in return, apparently having realized that, with Angela’s mother and sister present, nothing more could or would come of their lips meeting now than the kiss itself.

“Well, I never…” her mother muttered disapprovingly while the camera of Amy’s phone snapped shot after shot of her sister and the older man in their muddy embrace.

“Maybe you should sometime, Mom!” Angela exclaimed laughingly as she released Jason’s lips from hers and gazed into his eyes, much as she had done earlier when the two of them had been alone in the mud. Several seconds went by before she spoke again. “Thank you,” she at last whispered softly to him, “for everything you did… and didn’t do.”

“You’re welcome, Angela,” he said tenderly in return as they both squeezed each other in a final hug before separating, which was made momentarily difficult by the sticky mud coating their bodies. They both laughed at the sucking sound their bellies made as they pulled apart from one another, while Amy giggled nearby. “Now trending on Twitter!” she joked as she continued snapping photos, and in Jason’s smiling face Angela sensed that he was no longer concerned about her younger sister’s obsession with posting on her social media.

“If you two are finished making out, Angela,” her mother said sarcastically as she retrieved her towel and swim bag from the dirt path, “we still have enough time to get back to the house for you to get cleaned up before the cookout tonight, but just barely, considering what a muddy mess you are.”

“Oh, the cookout!” Angela’s eyes brightened at her mother’s reminder of her family’s dinner plans with their neighbors; after everything that had happened during that afternoon, she had entirely forgotten about the evening get-together. “Could Jason come too?”

“Absolutely not!” the older woman objected before her daughter even finished asking the question, the expression on her face clearly communicating her lingering suspicions about the older man who had saved her daughter’s life and his current motivations and intentions. Despite Angela’s and his assurances to her, she obviously wasn’t completely convinced that “nothing” had transpired between the two of them earlier in the mud.

“Actually,” Jason said quietly to Angela, “I really need to get back home myself. I should have been home hours ago, but I got… distracted,” he added, giving her a knowing smile.

“Come on, girls, let’s go… now!” her mother called to both Amy and Angela but mostly to her older daughter, who was still lingering by Jason’s side.

“In a minute, Mom!” Angela called back to her. “I’m still saying goodbye to Jason!”

“Well, hurry it up!” her mother responded, collecting Angela’s bikini halves as she and Amy started dragging their canoe from the shore and situating it in the shallow water at the river’s edge.

Angela turned back toward Jason, hoping for a few seconds of relative privacy with him while her mother and sister readied the little boat. She put her arms around his neck again and whispered conspiratorially into his ear, “Follow my lead.”

“Hmm?” he responded quizzically, uncertain of her meaning.

“I don’t even know your last name,” Angela suddenly called out, much louder than necessary for him to hear but sufficiently so for her mother and sister to hear down by the water. “How will we stay in touch with each other?” She then leaned toward him again. “Say it’s better that we don’t,” she whispered quickly to him.

“Oh,” Jason said out loud, joining in with her covert intent as he directed his voice just as audibly toward her mother and sister, who were still busy with the canoe, “it’s, um… it’s better that we don’t, Angela. After all, I am married.”

“Good, that’s good,” she whispered, stealing a glance back toward her sister and mother to see that they were still occupied with their preparations. “That ought to keep them from guessing that we really are in touch with each other.”

“But… today is the first time we’ve ever met; you said so yourself.” Jason replied quietly, a note of confusion in his voice. “We’re not in touch with each other.”

Angela looked up at him, her arms still around his neck, an odd little smile on her face.

“We’re… not in touch with each other,” Jason repeated, “are we?”

She continued gazing up at him, still smiling her odd little smile, the same smile that she had given him earlier after she had admitted her quicksand fetish to him when they had been alone together in the mud.

“Okay,” he finally said to her uncertainly, “just… how… are we in touch with each other?”

She chuckled as she tightened her arms around his neck again and brought her lips close to his ear. “I’m no more ‘Angela’ on the quicksand forum,” she whispered slyly, “than you’re ‘Jason’ in real life… Mister ‘Sample.’

She drew back so that she could see his face, giggling at the incredulous look in his eyes. For a moment Jason hesitated, as though he were torn between admitting the deepest truth about himself to her and pretending that he had no idea what she was talking about, before he finally relented. “What…” he began to ask, “what… gave me away?”

“Silly ‘Jason,’” she whispered laughingly, “no one talks about wanting to make wet, messy, passionate love in the mud without having a thing for mud… and quicksand.” She looked up at him, her face beaming as she smiled. “After you said that to me earlier, coupled with what you knew about staying safe in quicksand and some other things I’ve read on the forum, I just put two and two together.”

Jason stared back at her quietly for several moments, his swirling emotions evident in his eyes. Oh, wow, Angela said to herself, putting herself in his place as she returned his gaze, he’s either going to be amazed that I figured out his secret or he’s never going to want anything more to do with me… or maybe both…

Angela continued looking into his eyes, wondering how her hero might feel about her after what she had deduced about him. “Touché,” he finally replied, smiling and nodding his head in a way that confirmed to her the former of the two possible outcomes that she had imagined.

“Angela,” her mother called impatiently from the now ready canoe, “come on!”

“Coming, Mom!” Angela turned her head and called back to her mother before returning her eyes to the bemused older man standing before her. She leaned in toward him one more time and hugged his neck tightly again. “See you around the forum, ‘Jason,’” she whispered as she pressed her cheek against his, “and say ‘hi’ to your ‘monster’ for me.”

“My… monster…” he replied slowly, wide-eyed in astonishment as she pulled back again so that she could look at him. “How do you know about…?”

She smiled back at him knowingly as she removed her arms from around his neck. “I told you, I’m on the forum,” she answered, giggling. “I read that ‘damsel-in-distress’ article you posted shortly after you joined. Very respectful toward women, I must say… just as you’ve been with me. I also read your introductory message, Mister ‘Assumed Name.’”

Jason stared back at her, his mouth half-open in amazement as he shook his head at the remarkable young woman standing before him, until his expression abruptly fell as he seemed to recognize the implications of what she had just told him. “Um… Angela,” he said uneasily, “since you’ve read those posts, and after what happened here today, I feel I owe it to you to say that I… regret… that a certain… monstrous… part of me… wanted to see you… go under… earlier.”

“I know,” she said softly, a momentary memory of the terror that she had felt at sinking beneath the surface of the quicksand emerging briefly in her mind before she dismissed it as she leaned in again and kissed him lightly on the cheek, “and thank you for owning up to it. But what matters is that the man you are was willing to risk everything to save me… no matter what.”

“Angela!” the older woman shouted toward her oldest daughter, tired of her delay tactics. “Now!”

“Okay!” Angela called back to her mother, rolling her eyes and head in mock exasperation as she started backing away from Jason, not really wanting to leave but knowing that she must. “Hey, Jason!” she said to him as she turned and began making her way toward the river, “You know what?”

“What?” he asked as she continued walking toward the canoe while still looking back at him.

“You should write down everything that happened today!” she said laughingly, adding in a loud whisper, “It’d make one hell of a story to post on the forum!”

“I just might do that, Angela,” he replied, chuckling.

“Make sure I can recognize myself in it!” she called back to him with a smile on her face.

Angela turned and made her way toward the canoe at the edge of the shore where her mother and younger sister were waiting for her. Rather than stepping directly into the little boat, however, she instead detoured around it and waded several yards out into the river until she reached a point where it was sufficiently deep for her to submerge herself completely in the water. Oh, god, yes, she said to herself beneath the surface, it feels so good to wash all this muck off me. After a few seconds she reappeared at the surface as she leaned her head back, running her fingers over her face and through her auburn hair to clear away the mud that had been caking it. She then rose up slowly, splashing and stroking handfuls of water over her arms and upper body and then over her belly, lower body, and legs, front and back, to clean the mud from herself, all the while looking back toward Jason, who clearly couldn’t help but to watch, transfixed by her appearance. “Here’s how I look when I’m not all covered with mud, Jason!” she called laughingly to him, striking a flirtatious pose as her mother again insistently held out the beach towel toward her in a vain attempt to get her oldest daughter to cover herself as she finally stepped into the canoe. As she took a seat on the narrow center bench facing toward the rear of the vessel she at last acquiesced to her mother’s wishes and took the proffered towel and wrapped it around herself, all the while looking in Jason’s direction as her mother and sister pushed off and began rowing away from the shore.

Angela continued gazing toward Jason as the tiny boat moved out into the lazy current of the river, a sad smile on her face that reflected a wistful yearning for what might have been between the two of them. I know it never would’ve worked out between us, Jason, she said to him silently as the distance between them gradually increased, but for however long it lasted, it would have been wonderful… For a long moment she indulged a fantasy of what such a relationship with the older man might have been like: she, the grateful damsel, giving herself completely in the energy and exuberance of youth to the older man who had saved her life and proven himself worthy of the love that she would give to him, and he, her humble hero, taking her into his gentle, protective arms and sharing with her the depth and wisdom of his decades of life experience. With returning arousal she imagined how it would be to make love to her rescuer as she visualized Jason placing his lips around her nipples as he would kiss and suckle at her bosom, taking the sensitive flesh of her breasts deeply into his mouth as he rolled his tongue over the small bumps of her areolae while stroking her swollen clitoris and pushing his fingers deep inside her willing vagina, while she would sensually grasp and caress his erect penis in her hands, enjoying his moans of pleasure as she would take the length of his manhood between her lips and move her mouth up and down from its tip to its base, rolling her tongue around its shaft while she took him into her depths. She envisioned their bodies intertwined in an intimate, tender embrace as they would begin to make sweet, passionate love in the mudflat, each enjoying the other to the fullest as they explored their deepest delights and desires with one another… as well as their mutual fetishes. As they would move together in the mud, perhaps Jason would imagine that she was his beautiful damsel in distress sinking helplessly to her doom and in desperate need of rescue as he sank deep inside her, while she would envision herself sinking deeper into the sucking ooze as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, waiting and hoping for her courageous hero to save her from a horrible fate as their conjoined bodies edged closer and closer toward ecstasy, their mutual desire mingling and merging until they would at last explode as one in an endless, climactic release in the shared urgency of both passion and pleasure, lust and love… and then the mire would slowly swallow them both, engulfing their bodies forever in an eternal embrace within the encompassing depths of the quicksand, their lips pressed tightly together as they would share their final breath beneath the surface, each alternately inhaling from and exhaling into the other’s lungs their dying gasp as the darkness enveloped them both. Angela felt her neck and face flush at the seductive image, her nipples hardening as she sensed a tell-tale tingle between her legs, and she was grateful that her body was now wrapped in the towel that her mother had insisted that she put around herself.

“Hey, Angela,” her younger sister spoke up, interrupting her older sister’s erotic reverie as she put down her oar and picked up her phone, “are you okay with me posting this on Twitter? ‘An older guy just saved my sister Angela from drowning in quicksand. So romantic! And then he didn’t ask for anything in return. Even more romantic!’”

“I guess so,” Angela replied warily, “as long as you don’t post any…”

“Don’t worry; no nude pics of you,” Amy assured her,” but I will send you the ones I took of you and Jason.”

“I’d still like to know how the hell he knew my name, if you didn’t tell him, Angela,” their mother interjected, looking back across the water toward Jason while continuing to row upstream toward their home. “That was the weirdest thing.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” Angela replied, her thoughts returning to the odd interaction between the three of them earlier. “I just figured that the two of you had met somewhere and you just didn’t remember it.”

“Maybe, but I usually have a good memory for faces,” her mother responded. “If I ever did meet him before, it must have been so long ago that I just don’t remember.”

“Maybe you met him back in college, Mom,” Amy suggested, lifting her eyes from her phone. “After all, he looked to be about your age. Maybe he had a secret crush on you back then but was too shy to say anything to you so you never knew about it, but he’s held that crush for you for decades and today the two of you finally met again after he saved Angela from the quicksand, but all he could do was stare at you while you whacked him over the head.”

Both Angela and her mother glanced at Amy for a moment, each taking in the unlikely sequence of events that the nineteen-year-old had just suggested, before turning to face each other. Could that be what had happened? they each wondered uncertainly. Could the stranger have known Angela’s mother in college and have harbored a secret crush for her for all these years, only to end up falling asleep in the mud next to her naked daughter after rescuing her from quicksand? Could what had happened today have been the culmination of an overarching, decades-in-the-making narrative scenario that none of them alone could or would ever fully understand or appreciate?

“Nahhhh,” they finally said in unison, shaking their heads and chuckling over the absurdity of the notion.

“Well, no matter how he knew Mom’s name,” Amy continued, looking back toward the figure of Jason, who was still standing on the shore of the river and gazing their way as the little canoe drew farther away from him, before she turned her attention back to her sister, “all I could think of while you were describing how he pulled you out of the quicksand, Angela, was that time back on the farm when you got stuck in that mudhole in the middle of the field,” she added. “Remember that?”

“What time on the farm when you got stuck in a mudhole in the middle of a field?” her mother addressed Angela with a puzzled look on her face. “I never heard anything about that.”

“It was… years ago, Mom,” Angela replied somewhat hesitantly, recalling what had happened and why she had never told anyone everything that had happened on that long-ago day. “It was that summer when Amy and I went to stay with Grandpa and Grandma for a month after you and Dad got divorced. We got caught in a thunderstorm, and while we were running back to the farmhouse I fell waist-deep into a mudhole in the middle of a field, and Grandpa had to pull me out with his old tractor.”

“Yeah,” Amy chimed in, “and you got this really weird look on your face while he was pulling you… um… while he was… pulling…” Her voice trailed off as she saw Angela glaring at her in a way that indicated that the younger girl had said enough already.

The three of them sat silently for a while as Angela’s mother continued rowing upstream, apparently unaware of the momentarily tense interaction between her daughters, until Amy finally put away her phone and picked up her oar again to help her mother paddle against the light current.

“Well, speaking of your Grandma,” their mother said, breaking the silence, “she’s going to be at the cookout tonight after all.”

“Oh?” Angela replied. “I thought she said earlier that she couldn’t make it.”

“Well, that’s what she said a few days ago,” her mother responded as she went on rowing, “but she called me from the house this afternoon while Amy and I were out buying groceries for tonight to say that she had decided to drive down from the farm after all.”

“Oh, okay,” Angela said, smiling. “It’ll be good to see her again; it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, but she was kind of evasive about why she changed her mind. She said she felt a sudden urge to be here tonight, like she needed to make something for the cookout,” her mother continued. “Don’t know why she thought we’d need a pot of chicken noodle soup to go along with pork barbecue, but… that’s your Grandma for you.”

A vague memory flitted through Angela’s mind as she gazed back in Jason’s direction over the increasing distance between them, a recollection of something that seemed to lie just beyond the periphery of her consciousness… accompanied by a single tear.

Thank you, Grandpa… she whispered quietly behind closed eyes.

As their little boat continued upstream toward a bend in the river, Angela felt a slight itch behind her left ear, and when she reached up to scratch it she found a little glob of drying mud hiding there. She had apparently missed it when she had submerged herself in the river to clean herself off before she had stepped into the canoe, and as she examined her muddy fingernail she decided that when they got home it would be a good idea for her to hose herself off completely in the backyard before taking a hot shower inside, lest she accidentally clog up the plumbing with any other stray bits of mud that might still be lurking on her body or in her hair. As she stared at the diminutive reminder of her terrifying experience in the quicksand earlier that day, she again became aware of a subtle presence inside her head, a voice that was both hers and not hers, something that only a short while ago had been doing everything in its power to end her in the smothering ooze.

“You were in my clutches, Angie Baby,” the voice grumbled sullenly in Angela’s ear. “I had you right where I wanted you, trapped and terrified, helpless and hopeless, suffocating in the quicksand. It was the perfect plan, and I would’ve gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling—!”

Shut up, bitch, Angela silently commanded the thing in her head, closing her eyes and asserting herself anew against its will and intent.

“Oooh, getting spunky now that you’re not in danger anymore,” the voice replied mockingly, “but you just wait till the next time I get you in—”

There’s not going to be a next time, Angela replied firmly to her fetish-twin, at least not the way you imagine it. I know what you’re all about, and from now on there’re going to be some new ground rules between us.

“New… rules?” her creature repeated warily. “What kind of new rules?”

After the stunt you tried to pull earlier today, Angela insisted in her mind, if you ever expect me to take you anywhere near a pit of deep mud or quicksand again, I promise you it’s only going to be on my terms. No more spur-of-the-moment decisions, no more life-threatening chances.

“Oh, but your impetuousness and willingness to take a risk were all part of the plan, Angie Baby,” the voice in her head pouted, “to keep you off-balance while I had my way with you in the quicksand.” Her fetish-creature seemed to shrug and sigh resignedly in her mind. “After all those years of teasing you and luring you to indulge your fantasy to the fullest,” it muttered dispiritedly, more to itself than to Angela, “I finally had my one chance to seduce you into becoming one with the mud forever… but then your precious Jason just had to come along and… oh, well, it was fun while it lasted.”

Maybe that’s your definition of “fun,” Angela responded, but my idea of fun in the mud is centered around sensuality, not suicide. That’s how it’s going to be from now on.

“You mean… you’re still willing to indulge me?” her fetish-thing asked uncertainly. “To act out your fantasy of pleasuring yourself while pretending to sink to your doom in quicksand?”

Yes, Angela replied firmly, nodding her head slightly, but like I said, it’ll be only on my terms. I’ll take a rope with me for safety, like Jason said, and a long pole… and maybe, when I’m ready, someone else who understands and appreciates my fascination with quicksand, or is at least willing to try, who can be there to help in case something goes wrong.

“So after all that happened… after what I did to you in the quicksand… both before you went under and after… you’re not going to lock me away and throw away the key?” the voice in her head asked incredulously.

No, Angela answered her creature, that would only give you an excuse to cause more mischief in my subconscious. You’re a part of who I am, and I accept that; you’re my fetish, my fascination for quicksand, and if Jason could learn how to control the monster in his head, I can learn how to control you, and in a way that benefits us both.

“So from now on,” her creature said cautiously, “our relationship is going to be…?”

A cooperation, not a death-match, Angela replied to the voice in her head. As I said, I’m still willing to indulge the fantasy that you embody and represent, so long as you understand that the fantasy stays just a fantasy. After all, I know that Jason and I will never be together, but I can still fantasize about being with him — as you well know if you were paying attention a few minutes ago — and enjoy the fantasy for what it is without trying to make it anything more.

“Huh,” her fetish-creature grunted quietly, seemingly at a loss for words in light of Angela’s self-understanding and her affirmation of her personal agency, “I guess there’s more to you than I gave you credit for, Angie Baby,” it finally said.

My name is Angela, she insisted adamantly to the thing in her head, and that’s how you’ll address me from now on.

“Oh, um, sure, of course, um, Angie — I mean… Angela,” the voice in her head grudgingly acquiesced.

Oh, and one more thing, Angela said to her creature, I assume that the “muddy hands” nightmare I had earlier while I was asleep in the mud next to Jason was your doing…

“Wasn’t that delicious? I actually thought it was rather creative myself,” her fetish-thing replied with a hint of self-satisfaction in its voice, “like those old horror movies you and your sister used to watch late at night when you were supposed to be asleep.”

Well, “creative” or not, Angela averred, no more nightmares like that… unless we agree on it first. Otherwise, I’ll be content with sexy, pleasurable dreams about sinking in quicksand, thank you very much.

“Well, to be honest,” the voice in her head admitted, “I can only pull off really vivid quicksand dreams, whether sexy or scary, either when you’re asleep in the mud like you were earlier or when you fall asleep with mud somewhere on you… which was why I was hoping you wouldn’t find that little spot of it behind your ear before you went to bed tonight…” it added chucklingly.

Good to know; I’ll keep that in mind, Angela replied, smiling to herself. If we work together, I think we can have a mutually satisfying relationship… so long as you remember, my dear fetish, that it is not you who have me, but rather I who have you.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever you’re daydreaming about, Angela,” her mother’s voice abruptly broke in to Angela’s conversation with herself, “but if you want to wave goodbye to your hero, you’d better do it now, ‘cause we’re about to round the bend.”

Angela inhaled deeply as she raised her head and opened her eyes, gazing off in the distance to where Jason still stood on the bank of the river, looking in her direction. A cool breeze was beginning to blow across the water from behind their canoe as the late-afternoon sun gradually descended toward a mountain ridge in the southwest, and as the little boat began to turn with the bend in the river Angela pulled her towel a little more tightly around herself as she rose up slightly from her seat and waved toward the man who had risked his life to save hers. Jason lifted his hand as well and waved back to her, each of them saying a silent farewell to the other over the distance separating them as the little boat and its occupants gradually rounded the bend until Angela’s view of him finally became obscured by the verdant foliage of the trees and vegetation that grew thickly along the bank of the river.

She continued gazing in Jason’s direction for several more seconds before settling back onto her narrow seat in the canoe, her eyes tearing slightly as she wondered if she would ever hear from him again. Perhaps he might message her sometime on the quicksand forum, she imagined, just to let her know that he was thinking of her… as she would be thinking of him. Perhaps they might even strike up an online friendship, sharing with each other various things about their lives and families that went beyond their mutual fascination with quicksand. Perhaps—

A cold chill went down Angela’s back as she suddenly realized that, of all the things that she had shared with Jason about herself after he had saved her from the quicksand, and in all that she had said to him as they were about to go their separate ways, she had failed to communicate one key piece of information.

Oh, no! she thought despairingly, I never told him my screen name on the forum! He won’t know how to reach me! We won’t be able to—

“If I may interrupt your litany of lamentation… Angela,” a familiar voice spoke up inside her head, “you did read a couple of his postings your first day on the forum a year ago, remember… postings that would have included his screen name.”

A smile broke out on Angela’s face as she realized that her fetish-creature was right; she had read a couple of Jason’s postings during her first day on the quicksand forum; that’s how she would be able to find him. She closed her eyes and relaxed as her mother and sister continued paddling their way upstream toward their home, the towel wrapped around her body protecting her from the chill of the breeze as the setting sun gently kissed the mountain ridge behind them.

Oh, yes, Angela said contentedly in her heart as the afternoon shadows began to grow long around the little boat, Jason may not know how to reach me… but I know how to reach him… and sometime soon, she promised herself as she gazed back in the direction where she had last seen him, I will.



––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

THE END... for now.
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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Thu May 16, 2019 9:35 pm

I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to read all or at least part of my story "The Girl" and also to thank those who offered their comments and feedback. As my concluding "for now" above suggests, I already have in mind a sequel story to both "The Kid" and "The Girl" which, as with all my stories, will probably take at least a few months or so for me to scope out and write up. In the meantime, if anyone would like to have a copy of "The Girl" for download, I've attached it below.
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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby Solrex » Sat May 18, 2019 2:49 am

Holy freezing crap! Taming your fetish! This is amazing! 10/10, as always. I did notice a typo, but it didn't really matter. You did a really good job. I don't want to cast Impulsi away and throw away the lock and key, but I do want her to realize that sex needs to be between me and my girlfriend only after we get married. However, I would like to converse with Impulsi. I like the idea of how you had Angela get along with her fetish. I would love to get to know Impulsi more, to see what other things she has in mind. Good luck, and I can't wait for part 3!

-Solrex

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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Sat May 18, 2019 9:43 am

Solrex wrote:Holy freezing crap! Taming your fetish! This is amazing! 10/10, as always. I did notice a typo, but it didn't really matter. You did a really good job. I don't want to cast Impulsi away and throw away the lock and key, but I do want her to realize that sex needs to be between me and my girlfriend only after we get married. However, I would like to converse with Impulsi. I like the idea of how you had Angela get along with her fetish. I would love to get to know Impulsi more, to see what other things she has in mind. Good luck, and I can't wait for part 3!
-Solrex

A typo? A TYPO?! Oh, well... :lol: Thank you again, Solrex, both for your compliments and your feedback; I'm glad that you enjoyed my story so very much. I went back and read your Animusa story last night and plan to write up some suggestions for you, but in all honesty I think that what you wrote in your above comment would be an excellent foundation for a compelling story: you arguing and debating with Impulsi over what you want and don't yet want in your relationship with your girlfriend; the fact that your Impulsi is female would create a narrative sexual dynamic that is missing from my inner dialogue with my male "Kid." Maybe Impulsi is jealous of your girlfriend; maybe she wants you all to herself. But even if that's not the case, you could write a story that explores that possibility as you learn more about your fetish and yourself in the process. All you'd really need to be careful of is to change names and other identifying info to protect your and your girlfriend's privacy. Just an idea. ;)
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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Sun May 19, 2019 9:37 am

Solrex wrote:I don't want to cast Impulsi away and throw away the lock and key, but I do want her to realize that sex needs to be between me and my girlfriend only after we get married. However, I would like to converse with Impulsi...

Here's an additional idea to what I mentioned above, Solrex. You've mentioned that while your girlfriend doesn't share your quicksand fetish she is willing to explore it with you (and again I will say how very fortunate you are in this matter). I don't know how much the damsel in distress figures into your fetish, but perhaps you could write a story about your girlfriend's first experience in quicksand and as you watch her reactions to it Impulsi might begin suggesting that you leave your girlfriend to her doom so that your fetish can have you to herself, to which you then have to convince Impulsi (and thereby yourself) of how you really feel about your girlfriend and what you really want with her, which Impulsi would then have to accept. As I said, this is just an idea, and it may not appeal to you at all, but it was something I found rumbling around in my imagination. ;)
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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby Solrex » Thu May 23, 2019 8:18 pm

JSample wrote:
Solrex wrote:I don't want to cast Impulsi away and throw away the lock and key, but I do want her to realize that sex needs to be between me and my girlfriend only after we get married. However, I would like to converse with Impulsi...

Here's an additional idea to what I mentioned above, Solrex. You've mentioned that while your girlfriend doesn't share your quicksand fetish she is willing to explore it with you (and again I will say how very fortunate you are in this matter). I don't know how much the damsel in distress figures into your fetish, but perhaps you could write a story about your girlfriend's first experience in quicksand and as you watch her reactions to it Impulsi might begin suggesting that you leave your girlfriend to her doom so that your fetish can have you to herself, to which you then have to convince Impulsi (and thereby yourself) of how you really feel about your girlfriend and what you really want with her, which Impulsi would then have to accept. As I said, this is just an idea, and it may not appeal to you at all, but it was something I found rumbling around in my imagination. ;)


Honestly, the damsel part is only really there because that's how it's been presented to me. If anything, I'd want to be the damsel hopelessly trapped and confined in quicksand, and Impulsi would revel in that idea. She is the part of my brain that craves sex, and pleasure through kinks. Since I grew up in a very protected environment, she developed knowing sex had to be within marriage, but she was impatient, and slowly developed different ways to have pleasure, without anyone else required. The idea of being trapped, and struggling only made it worse, just made Impulsi get so excited. Considering she's a part of my brain, the part that controls my fetishes, that in turn turns me on.

However, I do not want to jerk off. However, she wants sexual pleasure, she craves it, she needs it, she wants me to be helplessly trapped with no escape until my captor decides to free me. She wants an infinite amount of pushback for me to helplessly struggle against. When I do bondage, she is the one that's disappointed when I can escape on my own. She craves to be completely trapped and helpless, and have no escape until permission is granted.

She also LOVES the feel of quicksand; she loves the pressure, the squeeze, the texture, the goopiness, the slow pressure required to escape, the fact that fast struggling only gets you deeper, she revels in ALL of that.

If I was with someone else, she wouldn't want to watch someone else just be stuck, that would make her mad with envy! When I can't go in, she is fine with just imagining that person that's stuck is us, however, she is quickly turned off by someone faking it and panicking. Instead, she prefers the more curiousity aspect of it, and the fun aspect.

If I had to compare her to either Angela's monster or the kid, I would say she's closer to Angela's fetish. However, she just wants the fun and pleasure, she has no wish to die, just to explore. I would say she's closely linked to the part of my brain that controls my wanderlust, mostly because she is looking for quicksand.

Now, if she was just a succubus, I might have stopped her by now… maybe, but with each fetish she developes, she gains me knowledge. I know how to handle a snake, I've had one around my neck, mostly because of her, but she also kept me calm and in control. Arousal turns to passion turns to fascination turns to knowledge. For example, I could walk down a muddy path and be relatively dry by the other side because I know the spots I want to step in, and step elsewhere to not get dirty.

She also helped me find a knee deep spot at my school's track just through exploration. She made me curious about why part of the road had a thing blocking it off, only to find a gravel mud pit on the side of the road.

If she was with my girlfriend, she would beg me to have her have full control over me while I'm helplessly trapped and can't fight back. She would whisper into my ear every kinky idea she has. For example, while I was tied up, my girlfriend drew on me with ice. We have limits though, since we aren't married. We can have all the foreplay we want, but no sex, at least not until we are married. So, one of my initial limits was to say, "Don't put the ice cube down my pants, because you wouldn't be able to take it back out." Impulsi immediately lit up and turned my brain the other way, and made me say, "Actually, I wouldn't mind that." The ice cube right there was a lot of fun.

Having never been deeper than waist deep, Impulsi already knows exactly how to escape quicksand, she helped me write a quicksand story, and someone complimented me on how realistic the escape was, despite me never having done it before. Impulsi drove me to learn that information so one day she could be trapped that deep in mud, and would only be able to escape through a slow extraction process. She could help me find mud in a desert, I swear!

I appreciate her, but my conscience definitely fights her a little, saying I shouldn't be jerking off if I want to get a temple marriage. Honestly, it reminds me of that kid's movie, Inside Out, despite only seeing the commercials for it. She would be one of the parts of my brain, completely separate from Joy. Of course, in the movie, it's a kid movie, so they didn't show the fetish part of the brain, but I'm sure everyone has it, if even just a vanilla lust version of it.

So, that's what Impulsi is.

As for Animusa, you'll be excited for it, it's just got a lot of non-quicksand parts in it, so I feel kinda weird posting it until I get to the quicksand. And not writing about quicksand makes me a little guilty and bored, since this is a quicksand forum. So it will probably be at least another month before I actually get to it and write that story, at minimum. I hope the text file isn't too large, either. Any advice for that? Is it fine if it alludes to a sink, but I don't get to it till part 3?

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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Fri May 24, 2019 6:39 pm

Solrex wrote:Honestly, the damsel part is only really there because that's how it's been presented to me. If anything, I'd want to be the damsel hopelessly trapped and confined in quicksand, and Impulsi would revel in that idea. She is the part of my brain that craves sex, and pleasure through kinks. Since I grew up in a very protected environment, she developed knowing sex had to be within marriage, but she was impatient, and slowly developed different ways to have pleasure, without anyone else required. The idea of being trapped, and struggling only made it worse, just made Impulsi get so excited. Considering she's a part of my brain, the part that controls my fetishes, that in turn turns me on...

Solrex, I think if you took even some of what you wrote above about yourself and Impulsi (not just the paragraph I quoted, but your entire previous message), you would have a real winner of a story, especially the parts about your playing the role of the "damsel" and Impulsi's responses to it. Granted, It would take some time and planning on your part, and it might end up being a multi-part story as you once mentioned wanting to write, but I think you would have a lot of fun writing it (and I'd sure have a lot of fun reading it!).

Solrex wrote:As for Animusa, you'll be excited for it, it's just got a lot of non-quicksand parts in it, so I feel kinda weird posting it until I get to the quicksand. And not writing about quicksand makes me a little guilty and bored, since this is a quicksand forum. So it will probably be at least another month before I actually get to it and write that story, at minimum. I hope the text file isn't too large, either. Any advice for that? Is it fine if it alludes to a sink, but I don't get to it till part 3?

I think that if a non-sinking part of a multi-part story is leading up to such a scene, your readers will be more than willing to forgive a bit of background to establish the characters and the setting. I'm currently working on my sequel to "The Kid" and "The Girl," and while part one will not have a new sinking scene per se, it will have a lot of discussion and reflection regarding the dramatic sinking scene in the earlier stories before getting to this new story's rather... um... exploratory sinking scenes. And the only size limit to worry about is the 60,000-character limit that the forum puts on a post. When you're ready to post a new part of your story, "preview" it first; that will tell you if you've exceeded the limit.
Jason Sample

Solrex
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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby Solrex » Wed Jun 05, 2019 10:00 pm

JSample wrote:
Solrex wrote:Honestly, the damsel part is only really there because that's how it's been presented to me. If anything, I'd want to be the damsel hopelessly trapped and confined in quicksand, and Impulsi would revel in that idea. She is the part of my brain that craves sex, and pleasure through kinks. Since I grew up in a very protected environment, she developed knowing sex had to be within marriage, but she was impatient, and slowly developed different ways to have pleasure, without anyone else required. The idea of being trapped, and struggling only made it worse, just made Impulsi get so excited. Considering she's a part of my brain, the part that controls my fetishes, that in turn turns me on...

Solrex, I think if you took even some of what you wrote above about yourself and Impulsi (not just the paragraph I quoted, but your entire previous message), you would have a real winner of a story, especially the parts about your playing the role of the "damsel" and Impulsi's responses to it. Granted, It would take some time and planning on your part, and it might end up being a multi-part story as you once mentioned wanting to write, but I think you would have a lot of fun writing it (and I'd sure have a lot of fun reading it!).

Solrex wrote:As for Animusa, you'll be excited for it, it's just got a lot of non-quicksand parts in it, so I feel kinda weird posting it until I get to the quicksand. And not writing about quicksand makes me a little guilty and bored, since this is a quicksand forum. So it will probably be at least another month before I actually get to it and write that story, at minimum. I hope the text file isn't too large, either. Any advice for that? Is it fine if it alludes to a sink, but I don't get to it till part 3?

I think that if a non-sinking part of a multi-part story is leading up to such a scene, your readers will be more than willing to forgive a bit of background to establish the characters and the setting. I'm currently working on my sequel to "The Kid" and "The Girl," and while part one will not have a new sinking scene per se, it will have a lot of discussion and reflection regarding the dramatic sinking scene in the earlier stories before getting to this new story's rather... um... exploratory sinking scenes. And the only size limit to worry about is the 60,000-character limit that the forum puts on a post. When you're ready to post a new part of your story, "preview" it first; that will tell you if you've exceeded the limit.

I would love to write a story on Impulsi some time, I've already tried to do so. Maybe I'm just venting ideas out and later I'll refine them. As for Animusa part 2, I've written a lot of progress on it, but got distracted by making a bunch of custom MtG cards based of the story. But it's actually to the sink now, I just have to finish that part, writing the ending of part 2, and it will be ready to go. Hope you're excited for it.

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Re: The Girl (Part 8): Angela's Promise

Postby JSample » Fri Jun 07, 2019 8:00 am

Solrex wrote:I would love to write a story on Impulsi some time, I've already tried to do so. Maybe I'm just venting ideas out and later I'll refine them. As for Animusa part 2, I've written a lot of progress on it, but got distracted by making a bunch of custom MtG cards based of the story. But it's actually to the sink now, I just have to finish that part, writing the ending of part 2, and it will be ready to go. Hope you're excited for it.

I remember reading both your Impulsi and Animusa stories, and I'm looking forward to your next offering! :)
Jason Sample


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