Mud Club (Hetro Willing Submersion Thriller)

[DangerousWill]

It all started during a movie sleep over night with her friends. It hadn’t been as wild as past sleep overs, perhaps that’s why she had got so wound up in the end. The previous sleep over had seen them strip to their underwear, engage in girl on girl kissing and promised more the next time.

But this time Connie had sat in her thin pyjamas, hiding delicate lingerie underneath and the conversations remained boring. Louise had started a crochet club using an online forum to find local people and wouldn’t shut up about it. Connie waited to see when the conversation would warm up, not because she had planned anything, but because she wanted to see where the night would take her. The night however, didn’t take her anywhere. Finally the films were put on, but with much argument and no love romps making the final cut. Despite the pile of films waiting, the girls watched “Fight Club” then surrendered over to the TV to watch whatever came next. Connie was closest to the remote and at the request of the others was flicking through the channels.

“News, Adverts, Telesales…”

The screen flashed by till it landed on a channel with a black and white movie. The silver haired women ran through the forest the branches tearing at her dress. The women is confronted by the man in black who grabs hold of her dress with passion and fury. Her face stubborn, the woman pulls back and the dress tears. The dress remains in the man’s hand while the woman falls backwards, soft grey earth breaking her fall. It swallows her legs and the lady bobs in the soft earth that slowly consumes her. “I’m sorry my dear, but this is probably for the best”, the man lights up a cigarette and disappears into the night. The lady gives up her screams as her bare shoulders slip into the earth. Her head turns upwards as she takes one last breath, the soft earth hugging around her face…

“We said change the channel”, her friends pulled the remote out of her hand and proceeded to continue the search, “Didn’t realise you were into old people movies”.

Connie had to shake her head as she realised that she had been too engrossed in the movie, that something about it had got her feeling week at the knees. She pictured the poor woman sinking into the earth but instead of feeling sorry for the woman, she felt jealous. But why?

The TV settled again as the girls settled their opinions.
“What movie is this” Connie asked returning from her thoughts.
“We just told you, now shhh” the girls cut back.

The movie was a deliberately acted history comedy that saw the main characters dealing with the novelties of Celtic Britain with a boy exiled from Rome and a girl trying to fight some romans. The theme seemed to be how a confident woman can always beat up men if they were ever sexist and the lines were so predictable she was mentally speaking them before the characters. Well predictable to a point. The film moved to a part where in celebration of a rescue the villagers wanted to sacrifice the roman in the bog, and the villagers were ever so excited to finally do it. As he had rescued the elder he got to go in the bog. But the girl raised the objection that they had done it together. Connie began to get warm feelings between her legs as she anticipated what would happen next.

“If you rescued the elder together, then you should sink together” It both made Celtic logical sense and doubled the quantity of bog sacrifices. Under the pressure of her clan who was she to argue, especially when she was becoming so attracted to the boy. She could picture them sinking together, faces turned towards each other, a final hug and then a kiss as the bog rose around them.

Alas the story didn’t even go there, the scrawny boy didn’t go in the bog, and the man who fell in proved it to be nothing more than a puddle of water. But why did it matter so much to Connie?
The movie ended without interest and everyone crawled into their sleeping bags for the night. The nights lack of potential flowed through Connie’s mind. She had gone their hopping to get into a sensual position with her friends and still felt the lacy lingerie between her legs. But despite all her build up the only release she had got was, well, her films.

She started fingering herself between her legs, sliding her fingers around to find it already wet. She tried to picture her prince charming or play on her earlier fantasy of making out with a girl. But her mind kept going back to those movies. The dominant Celt refusing to bow down to the pressure of her villagers. It was her sacrifice, her roman and she was going to enjoy it. Ripping the romans clothes off before ripping off her own, she ploughed her bare calves through the mud as she dragged her roman into the bog. He looked at her helpless and confused but she took the lead. Massaging his manhood, she pulled herself closer to him, and pushed him inside of her just as their groins slipped into the muck. She rocked her hips and he moaned in ecstasy, involuntarily rocking back. She quickened her pace in turn until the both of them were lost in endless spasms as their arms went limp and the bog took them in, inch by inch.

Connie followed them as she rocked her own finger over her clit and gave herself to the spasms that would soon shoot through her. But as close as she could get, she couldn’t feel the mud kissing at her legs. The sleeping bag had at first been cold and swallowed up her entire body. But now it was warm and cosy and nothing like her fantasy. She pushed it out of her mind and returned to her fantasy.

They were down to their shoulders now. She kissed him gently on the shoulder. Sad to be losing her opportunity so soon but her head rolled back as his passion intensified and she bit at her lip. Now only their faces showed as the earth crawled up their faces millimetre by millimetre and their arms were lost in earth. Escape was long gone and all they could do was give in to orgasm as the bog closed in around them.

Connie hit the spark and her legs bucked and her crotch burned. But at the same time she heard one of her sleeping friends stirring and knew that her actions were all too obvious. She bit her lip, clamped down on her legs to stop herself bucking and ignored the feeling of euphoria that her body was trying so hard to give her. Her friend left for the toilet and Connie sat their panting, cursing her friend for picking that moment to become awake.

***

The sleep over had come and gone but the idea had remained in her head. She wanted to feel that sensation again. But she wanted to feel it with the mud between her legs and with a real feeling of helplessness. She wanted to be the one in the bog.

If it had been Celtic Britain as it had been portrayed in the movie then she could have simply offered herself as a sacrifice. But times had changed and she wasn’t sure if it was entirely for the best. Why didn’t people want to sacrifice fair maidens in mud anymore?

But someone had to want that? Why else would such tales exist, such history, such films? There had to be people out there like her. But how would she find them? It wasn’t like she could create a club like Louise and its not like anyone would admit to wanting to attend. But then again that hadn’t stopped Tyler Durden…

***

Connie decided to call the forum “Mud Club” and in following the theme had set her three rules for her secret club. Rules 1 and 2 had been simple; “don’t tell anyone about mud club”. Rule 3 had been harder and she had to sum up what she was feeling inside “those that wish to sink will get sunk”, after all that was all she wanted.

She created her profile page. What was her name and what did she do? Well that was private and also boring. What was her profile name and what did she want to do? She was called Cupid and she wanted to sink. She wanted to be led by a sinker and “forced” to sink in bottomless mud with a male victim who could indulge in her pleasure. She wanted to be naked, one of them bound and she needed to feel helpless. To sink all the way down, lost in the love of her fellow victim, over an arms reach away from the nearest help. The mud so deep that even as she slipped under there was no chance she might touch the bottom and lose some enormity in her situation. That it would have swallowed her deep before she took her final breath… now that was a profile.

Ultimately she needed three people. A female victim, herself, and the male victim and then the sinker who made it all happen. She created the three titles, assigning one to herself and leaving the other two open. Lastly she created two general user types, those that loved to sink and those that loved to watch. Setting the website live she browsed her own website and took delight in reading her profile. There were no visitors yet but at such an early age it wasn’t bound to. She took delight that night as she imagined people responding to the site. Lying on her bed she dry humped her duvet as she shoved it between her legs as a bog would shove mud between her legs. It still didn’t feel the way she wanted it to, but it still got her off. Before she went to bed she glanced at her website to realise that one user had already signed up, her fantasy was starting to become less of a fantasy already.

***

The next day Connie didn’t feel so good about it. Fifty users had already signed up, all of them male and all of them watchers. What was worse was that both of the titles of male victim and head sinker had been filled and both had been set to administrator by default. Any change to the site now required majority vote by the admins and as one of her updates took affect she realised that another admin was logged on.

“Cupid, are you there?” a pop up chat appeared at the bottom of the site. The name said Charlie, the title said head sinker. A man, a stranger on the internet, who had taken up the role of murderer, was now trying to chat to her. Connie panicked and quickly clicked her mouse over the “log out” button.

She was still clicking, her heart beating fast when she realised that she was logged out and unable to change anything about her site. Crazy sexual perverts had taken over her site and she was the centre of their attention. Connie refused to log in ever again after that.

***

If only that had been the end of it she could have relaxed. But she had noticed it in the streets. Men in hushed conversations dropping snippets of conversation as they walked past. Ladies with mud on their tights shyly hiding the stains as they walked past. Everyone of them wondering “who is going to sink at mud club”. It seemed innocent at first as she fantasied about all these people trying to play out her fantasy, she even thought about going along to one of their nights, if only she hadn’t made the first rules so clear.

But she also noticed the news articles, as young naive teenagers went missing on a daily basis. The only things that linked the disappearances was how normal everyone thought the teenagers were, and how all of them had previously discarded a set of clothes covered in the same mud, the same stains she had seen on the tights of those ladies. The fact that no bodies had turned up only confirmed her suspicions.

When a good looking boy had finally slipped her a piece of paper with the phrase “Are you a watcher or a sinker?” She had become panicked and quickly rushed away. It was no longer a fantasy, it had become a nightmare and she had lead so many people astray. It was time to fix this.

Still trying to figure out what she would say to anyone using the site she logged in to find no other admins online. The site had changed since she last logged in. Gone were the default white pages and stylised text. It was now black with custom logos and heaps of threads and user zones. The next night was already being planned at the sink house. An old barn that, according to several threads, had been built especially to Cupids requirement to never touch the bottom. The head sinker had found an old mineshaft and filled it with mud by ripping of a drilling contractor and by redirecting the dumping of quarry mud. With a patron account he had then built a barn over the top and closed it in, turning it into a ritual nightclub.

The consensus was now to have weekly events, with watchers being first come first served. Priority was given to sinkers with five being chosen as candidates to present themselves to the head sinker. These candidates were given a code to give to the doorman to ensure their entry. Despite the venue having space for a thousand people, many watchers had relisted as sinkers just to guarantee their entrance. In one week the head sinker would chose one of the candidates to sink to their doom. If none of the candidates showed up then he would have to wait for certainty before picking one of the sinkers to do the deed. Connie couldn’t stop the ceremony from happening but she could delay it to ensure that she got there in time. While she had no single authority to change any of the posts, she was allowed to spell check. The code given to the candidates was supposed to be “Final Sunset” but she changed by synonym to “Last Dusk”. The doorman had his code but the candidates had their own.

***

The night was cold when Connie finally made her way to the venue. It was out of town on a large plot of land, hidden behind old spoil heaps. She had wondered how so many people could meet without suspicion but now she knew. The queue was already around the barn and she quickly joined the back hoping that she would make it inside in time. The line moved faster than she had thought, save for a few altercations when people pretending to be candidates gave the doorman the wrong code.

“Have I seen you before?” the same boy who had handed her the note now stood next to her.
“So many people come here, its entirely possible” Connie shrugged him off
“You’re the girl I gave the note to. You seemed to be taking an interest in my conversation… After the note I thought I’d scared you off”
“You took me by surprise was all”
“So what about it?” he asked
“what?” Connie failed to understand his question.
“Are you a watcher or a sinker?” his eyes peered deep into hers already predicting her answer
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Connie left him guessing as they reached the doorman. A large gorilla of a man who took up the whole doorway.

“Watcher” he spoke nonchalantly to the doorman
“Sorry, we’re all full” the doorman’s gruff voice came back.
“Sinker then” he quickly switched tact.
“Are you sure? There haven’t been any Candidates yet; it could be you up there”
“Its worth the risk” the boy shrugged, as his hand was stamped and stepped through the door.

“How about you?” the doorman turned to Connie, “Are you a sinker?”
“Well that’s generalising” Connie frowned, “I’m Cupid”
“As if, everyone seems to wish they were Cupid” the doorman spat at her
“Many may wish, but only one of them has the power to do what Cupid can do”
“You’re wasting my time young lady, get out my queue before I accidently make you our only candidate”
“The lights in the VIP area tonight are purple while the rest of the venue is set to red. You meanwhile are waiting for someone to come along and say the phrase final sunset but so far all the suitable candidates have told you that it is last dusk because that was the code I gave them. I am Cupid and I want to talk to Charlie”

The doorman stood with his mouth open while the queue fell silent with awe. Ignoring the sudden attention Connie slipped past him and pushed her way into the club. It was as she had expected with red lights pouring down from the roof and a purple lit VIP area high above her. She was surprised to see that the ground sloped down to the centre where a stage had been built. In its centre the mud pit was lit up with white light and a tall man in a black cloak was addressing the audience.

“Tonight is a dark night for us ladies and gentlemen. For the first time in the history of this club no candidates have presented themselves. There have been many usurpers but every sinker should have an equal chance to give themselves to the mud. So I now chose from among you a sinker to join the stage” The head sinker pointed into the crowd but Connie couldn’t see who he had chosen. Instead she pushed harder to get to the front, while fans from outside, entered, chanting her name.

The crowd at the front pushed an individual forwards, and as Connie got closer, she could see his face both worried and humoured. It was the boy from the line, the good looking boy that had given her the piece of paper.

“You have the stamp of a sinker, you shall sink for us”
“I am a sinker, but I wont sink for you today. I am waiting for the right lady” the boy smugly spoke back.
“The third rule of mud club: those that wish to sink will get sunk” the head sinker recalled, “and you wish to sink”
“I have come here since the first night, hoping to sink but always being denied. Perhaps tonight I will sink, but not because you say so…”
“You speak nonsense boy. Do you go willingly or will we throw you in?”
“I never introduced myself to you before because you were so controlling, but I never once rejected any of your updates. I am the male victim and I will sink when Cupid wants me to.”
“An elaborate excuse to get out of a predicament you started”
“Really? You never told anyone that the male victim had already been chosen.”
“So what if you are he? You stamped yourself a sinker? Tonight you will sink”
“And I will! Have you not figured it out yet? She was logged on. She changed the codes. That’s why you have no candidates and a full compliment of usurpers. And why would she do that if she wasn’t coming here herself” the hansom boy cried out with glee as he expressed his words.
“She wont come because she doesn’t agree. She ran from her duty” the head sinker cursed.

“No, she comes because she doesn’t agree, Charlie” Connie climbed onto the stage and walked up so that she was merely talking, “How many naïve people have lost their lives because of this sick fantasy”
“Your fantasy” the head sinker cut back
“My fantasy yes, and maybe I’m naïve too, but I set this up and you set this up for me. But now it has to end” Connie pleaded.
“You may have started it but Mud Club will live on” the head sinker reached into his robe and pulled out a roll of paper, “I have your profile here proving you to be a sinker. Will you go willingly or will we throw you in?”
“I’m here to stop you, not to sink in some fantasy!” Connie spat back

“Wait a minute” the hansom boy cut in, “Charlie will never stop Mud Club, I know him too well. But if you and me do this, not only will we finally get to live our fantasy, but two admins will sink and take their passwords with them. It takes two to run the site and our fantasy will deprive him of his power.”
“But I don’t want anyone else to die”
“I am too deeply involved in this too walk away and Charlie would never let me. It would continue until I found someone as amazing as you to sink with or long after Charlie forced me to give up my password.”
“But…” Connie broke into tears
“This crowd wont let you leave, are obsessed with your sinking as much as I am with your fantasy. Let me make this the best night you ever had and finally end this chaos.”
“Sometimes the only way to stop the chaos, when the monsters you create are untouchable, is to place the barrel to your own head, in order to stop them all” Connie surmised aloud, “I will go willingly”

“Okay then” Charlie projected his voice to the audience, while rolling down the paper, “Your name is cupid. You want to sink, and you are going willingly as per your testament. We have given you a bottomless mud pit, out of arms reach from the nearest help. You are free to feel helpless and our mud is so deep that you will never feel the bottom. Is this as per your fantasy?”

“It is..” Connie swallowed with anticipation as she realised that this had all been made for her.

“You wanted a male victim with which to indulge your pleasure. To sink with and to make love to as you both are swallowed by the earth. I present peter, the male victim. Is this as per your fantasy?”
Connie stared over at peter who stood healthy and relaxed, happy to be with her, happy to die for her, “It… It… He is…”

“Then your instructions are clear. You are to be naked”, Charlie turned to her, “Strip”

Connie started taking her jacket off as she looked across at Peter standing there, “He is to strip too” Connie blushed as she realised how quickly she had blurted it out.

Together they began stripping, although Peter appeared more timid about stripping in front of his audience. Connie threw her jacket to the floor, knowing that she wouldn’t need it again. She feared that she would quickly become cold, but as her bare arms were warmed by the spotlights she only felt the slightest of drafts. Pulling her dress by the bottom she pulled it up over her head and suddenly felt warmer as the bright lights kissed her skin. Charlie gazed upon her and raised an eyebrow as he inspected her lingerie.

“I guess you did come here to sink after all”
Connie sped up the removal of her bra as if to hide the evidence of her desire. Her breasts spilt out and as they became exposed she realised just how much she was going to feel after she jumped in. She knew her nipples were hard but she didn’t realise how excited she had become until she tried to remove her knickers. They slid off easily enough but were clearly sticking to her womanhood as her vulva drooled down her legs. It wasn’t until she kicked her knickers away that she remembered what came next.

“You are now naked” Charlie announced, “Your instructions are that one of you is to be bound. Which one do you choose?”

Connie realised that she had been generalising when she had wrote that. Was it the mud that bound them or actual ropes? But as Charlie presented the rope she realised that he meant literally. It was her choice, her fantasy, but she still felt like she was press ganging Peter into this. He looked worried and had already done so much for her, “I shall be bound. Take my arms”

Charlie stepped towards her and with a warm hand on her shoulder turned her around. He pulled both her arms together and linked his hand between her wrists and the small of her back. Her skin was moist from the spotlights and his hands glided and stroked as he began working the rope. His hands were coarse but the rope was soft. His hands were warm but the rope was neutral. With each tug she felt the rope pulled tighter and her freedom restricted. By the time he stepped away her arms were solid and she could only wiggle at the shoulders.

As she tested the restraints and reflected on her predicaments she realised that she had found yet another kink that she could have delighted in. Feeling her crotch burn she wanted to stroke her clit or rub her nipples, but the rope allowed neither. The denial only made her burn more fiercely and as she looked around for some release. She was half tempted to rub herself up against the head sinker.
“You are naked and you have been bound” Charlie announced, “Now you are to be forcefully sank in the mud”

Connie didn’t care anymore. The restraint of the rope, the talk of her sinking and the crowd waiting for it. She jumped forwards and began rubbing herself on Charlie, her nipples digging into his rough fabric and her vulva depositing slimy stains all over his immaculate black cloak. She took him by surprise as he tripped over and she began straddling him. He had fallen over several feet short of the pit and while Connie knew she couldn’t take him with her, she still took delight in the mess she had made of his cloak and the knowledge that she was using him as a sex toy, the bound victim, humiliating the master.
“You have been forcing me to sink since I created the club. Enough of you and your instructions” Connie shouted down at him, “Peter, take me now and carry me to the centre”.

Peter walked over, timid and unconfident, but as he gazed down at her naked body his manhood stiffened and his gait grew confident, “I fell in love with your profile the moment I read it” Peter confessed as he placed his arms around her and lifted her up, “I was sad to be left in the dark and was tempted by another…” Peter easily stepped around Charlie who was now scrambling to his feet.

“I had been talking about sinking in mud and I realised that she was eavesdropping on me. I was worried what she might think, but as I gazed at her she gazed back unseeing, ecstasy filling her eyes” Peter gazed into Connie’s eyes as he spoke, his legs slowly edging towards the pit. “When I realised that you were both the same person, I knew you were something special”

Peter began to trudge through the mud, Connie was still held high, her feet gently sliding over the surface. The mud was warm and dusty, dried to a crust by the lights, but Peter was already calf deep by the time they reached the middle. He readjusted his hands to her hips and gently lowered her down, her feet failing to break the surface.

Connie wiggled her feet, testing the thick skin and taking delight as it bounced. She jumped on the spot and it rebounded like a trampoline. Peter sunk to his knees but Connie remained above ground.

The skin teared without warning and Peter steadied her as the mud quickly engulfed her feet. The surface was gooey and hot but quickly cooled to a warm smooth consistency. She wiggled her toes and felt the mud press between them. Pulling her foot out, the mud sucked at her sole and her other leg sank deeper, the mud giving way without stopping. The mud traced its way up her ankle, then her calf and up to the base of her knee and she realised that it wasn’t stopping, even after she lowered her other leg. That foot was swallowed greedily but her descent continued.

Peter was already down to his thighs, his manhood rising up to attention as he could look at her no more and began playing with her skin. His hands wondered all around her legs, taking delight in the prickle of her skin and the firmness of her delicate muscles. His nose rubbed at her burning clitoris until she sunk to deep and he had to settle for kissing her stomach.

Connie went giddy and shuddered as her skin tingled and her body craved for his touch. She stared down at his erect penis, balls touching the mud and shaft only inches from submersion. Pointing her toes downwards she began sinking even faster, the mud sucking down her legs and her heart beating ever faster only making her arousal stronger. She slipped into the mud and into Peter’s arms as she landed on his penis. The mud sucked his balls down while he sank deep inside her.

She only meant to reposition her leg, but with her arms tied and the mud giving way, she only served to push him in deeper, pushing her way over an edge. Her leg twitched once then twice, each twitch sending sensations straight through her and down his penis. Very quickly she was nothing but twitching and humping and moaning as her body became alive and she lost all control.

She wanted to grab him, to feel him and to encourage him to hump faster, but her arms wouldn’t move. They were tied helplessly behind her. With her feet deeply encased and her legs betraying her to their sexual convulsions it was now just her body, Peter and the mud slowly consuming her. With each hump the mud slashed against her like a rising tide. First against her stomach, then her belly button and later her diaphragm. Behind the splashes crept the layer of goo that took hold then never let go. As the goo rose higher it thickened and slowed her movements till she had no idea if she was moving the mud or merely stretching it. Her feet pushing out with force only for her to relax and the mud to push her feet back together again. Even if she could extract herself, the mud would remain attached and stretched, waiting for her to stop before pulling her back in again. She was trapped and sinking and she was loving it.

She was now at her chest, the mud pushing up her breasts as her nipples bounced against Peter with each hump. He was now resigned to grunting and she was panting far too hard to speak a word.
She felt herself floating slightly, his penis starting to extract itself as he sunk deeper. Immediately she began dropping her shoulders, willing herself against all sense to sink faster. Peter understood what she was after, or was just greedy in his pleasure and moved his hands to her hips.

The hands griped hard, returning her to his crotch and she felt herself pulled down by his strength. With the sudden speed of her sinking she took a deep breath but the mud only rose to her collar bone. No, rose over her collar bone. She was sinking with him now and they were both sinking fast.

As their hips sunk into the thick elastic mud she became stuck to him. The mud sucking them together she remained stuck, her chances of floating free now gone. Realizing she was no longer buoyant he released her hips and worked his way up to fondle her breasts and paly with her nipples.

As he pulled her down by her womanhood, she realised that it would be only seconds before she was consumed. The mud was creeping up her neck and massaging the base of her skelp. As he began playing with her breasts all the sensations, the burning in her crotch, the mud holding her feet, the ropes binding her arms, the mud sliding up her legs, the ooze seeping inside her with each thrust, the knowledge she will soon be encased and the show she must have been giving to her audience all converged on her centre. Orgasm burned through her, overloading her nerves and frying her muscles, it was the most intense feeling she had ever felt. Even within the sticky mud that sealed her hips she could feel her juices fighting to escape from her. The mud was still only creeping up her chin and she feared that her release had been too soon, that maybe it would subside before that final breath. But Peter was still humping her, and the mud was still playing with her and her orgasm was only getting stronger. The mud around her was making waves that splattered the top of her head. Her lips slurped at the mud as her dissent sped up. She took her deep breath but barely held it as her panting matched her humping. Mud bubbled in her throat as wave after wave of euphoria passed through her. The mud was kind, neither suffocating her nor gagging her. It slipped into her throat like the tongue of a lover and danced around as she panted. The mud grew thicker, hugging her and binding her. It restricted her every movement and her spasms became more wild and aggressive as the mud played with her. Every muscle burning as she humped with such force as would break every bone in her body. But the mud took it and only held her tighter. Her orgasm grew stronger till it was just her ecstasy floating in the mud. When it finally came to its climax she just relaxed and dissipated into the mud.

The website “Mud Club” is now closed due to inactivity by the administrators. However, the number of disappearances has only increased. Based on your browsing history we recommend “Sink Club.com”.

Welcome to Sink Club.
The first rule of sink club is you do not talk about sink club
The second rule of sink club is you do not talk about sink club
Third rule of sink club: if someone yells stop, goes under or taps out, the sink isn’t over
Forth rule: maximum two to a sink
Fifth rule: one sink at a time
Sixth rule: sinks are in the bare, no shirts, no shoes
Seventh rule: sinks will go on as long as they have to
And the eighth and final rule: if this is your first time at sink club YOU HAVE TO SINK.

(final note, the film referenced about Romans is really a family movie based on a popular franchise. There is very little for mud fetishists to gain from the movie. Please don’t post a comment saying “oh my god that’s orable istories wotten wromans” as I don’t want children to find this in a google search)

[stevensh12]

Wow that was incredibly well done

[Chro_Zarco]

This is a fantastic story! Holy smokes!

[DarkKuroi]

Great story!

[DangerousWill]

Thanks for the positive feedback guys!

Believe it or not this was my second attempt at a quicksand story and my first complete work (though I've been writing non sexual fiction for years). All of a sudden I've got the creative bug and figured I'd direct it here.