Sylvasyrtim’s Skyrim Sink (Female, Willing, Fatal, Graphic, Fantasy, Skyrim)

[Solrex]

Author’s Note: Hey, so Jan 9th is my Birthday, I’m posting this past midnight the day before, or quite literally, the day of, so wish me a happy birthday!

As for this story, this is of a Bosmer who was the dragonborn, saved Skyrim, and wanted some closure. The writing is extremely detailed, and the drowning uses my experience of holding my breath when I was a stupid young adult to emphasize the experience, as is the norm with my stories that are fatal and submersions. Hopefully in a forum like this the trigger warning isn’t necessary beyond what I’ve done.

Yeah, I spent several writing sessions writing this story, and so now I bring it to you. One thing though, you may notice that at some part, it says she jumped off the ground, but then stopped herself and changed her mind. The story originally skipped to at least knee deep, but I was in a VC in discord with some other fans, and one had mentioned their favorite part of quicksand being the feet sink. So, I rewrote that part. For the rest of it, I just remember putting a ton of details in.

Also, Sylva is Latin for forest, and Syrtim is Latin for quicksand, believe it or not. That’s the character’s name origin story. I believe that is everything.

If you appreciate this story, the best way you can show your support is to leave a reply. Being able to read feedback on my writing helps me to improve and it helps me to have morale to keep writing. Anyways, here is my story, please enjoy!

-Solrex

Upon the Plane of Tamriel, in the Land of Skyrim, there lived the dragonborn. A Bosmer female, or Wood Elf, who had saved the world from Alduin and now was on a new quest. Her name, Sylvasyrtim. She was highly adept with a bow from the shadows.

She was studying the dragon tongue, revisiting word walls and reading every word present, trying to make her own shout.

Slaying many draugr in one of the crypts that filled back up, arrow after arrow, she made her way back to the word wall. Looking over each and every word, she studied them, until one of the words in the corner caught her eye. Gol. She understood it as ground. Just in case, she wrote down the other words as well.

•••••

Once outside, she tested the shout she was forging. “GOL!” The ground shook, and was still. She walked over the affected ground. Just a minor earthquake, for now.

Taking a rest, Sylvasyrtim then made her way to the cold north, frigid snow blocking her path. She hated the snow. It was cold, bitter, and got everywhere, and then melted. Evil stuff, the world could go without it. Clearing the infestations of time, she made her way to another word wall, studying it. She found one word that helped with her project. Mah. Meaning to fall, or fall as in the verb. Copying the other words down, she then left.

Weeks passed. The last word was just escaping her. Even on non-frigid ground, all Gol Mah did was crack up the ground. She needed the last word for her project. Her sexual muscles tensed with excitement when she found wall after wall, just looking for something that would work. She studied her copies of the word walls, but nothing came of it. None of those words helped.

“GOL MAH!!!” She shouted, at Bleak Falls Barrow in great and sexual frustration. The cave shook, causing rocks and walls to collapse, but not the ceiling. However, one wall fell revealing a cavern not explored before. A dirt path followed through, the ground soft.

An underground jungle followed, all of this, hiding in Bleak Falls Barrow. Strange. This wasn’t Blackreach either, much too shallow in the ground for that. A light shone into the next room from the crack in the ceiling, revealing a small grassy grove with a word wall, with a glowing word she hadn’t seen before. She absorbed the word, and understood it. Tum. Down, a direction, and this, this is what she needed.

Walking into the next room, there was a little less lighting from the ceiling cracks, but the room was still visible. It was a round circular room, with light too low for grass to grow here, so there was just a circular floor of dirt that went ever so slightly downhill from the edge of the room to the center. The Bosmer carefully stepped across the ground, testing its strength. It was soft, but just normal ground. She took out a journal, wrote her last words, removed her gear, made herself a grave with her belongings in the previous room, only keeping a pair of steel boots with her.

Turning to the second room, completely naked except for the boots, she brushed her soft hair, her fair fingers brushing through the mud-colored brown fibers that made up her hair. Aiming directly at the center of this room, she smiled, and shouted with the spirits of dragons, “GOL MAH TUM!!!” The ground shook, trembling, shaking, she could barely stand, but it passed. The center of the room had darkened. No cracks, but instead the light soft brown sandy soil had turned into dark soft brown sandy soil.

This was it. She had saved the world, she was good with her life, and wished to take the final sacred journey to Aetherius, sinking into the ground to get there. With her heavy metal boots on, she walked back a bit, her boots clinking slightly, then taking a running start, pushing off the more solid ground, but then she stopped herself. No need to sink super fast into it, she might as well enjoy this.

She then slowly stepped towards the muck in nothing but her metal greaves, clinking along. After two steps, the anticipating hungry land sucked at her boots, and while she would absolutely not care for the boots, if she allowed them to be sucked off, she would die very slowly, and not drown. Thus, she pushed her foot down back into her boot when it started being sensually sucked off.

She was being sucked down slowly, and was up to her ankles, and she tugged with both hands at her heavy feet. She wanted to get to the center of the pit, closer to where she would be completely helpless to escape. Just those words in her mind aroused her enough to urge herself through the sucking soil below her armored feet to take just a few more steps.

The further she got to the center, the heavier the muck got, and the more slurping it did to her war-torn feet, making each slurping step just a bit heavier than the last. She heaved herself forward, each sucking step heavier than her last.

Just two more steps to get to the center. She pulled on her left leg with both hands, it had sunk up to her mid-calf, and the ground wanted nothing more than to drag it down right there and then. Exerting herself, she applied slow force to excavate her foot from the ground’s eager hungry grasp. As she pulled on her left foot, her right sank deeper, yet, she would deal with that later.

With a plop, her left foot came loose, and she landed it in its final position. Focusing on her right foot, she pulled on the leg that was up to 3/4ths of her calf. Applying force, she let her left foot slip deeper into her self-made trap, focusing on freeing her right foot one last time.

She twisted and tugged, and applied effort into slowly extracting her right foot, which was about halfway out now. Her feet were quickly being worn out just from the beginning. Applying more force, she got her right foot up to her ankle, and with slow force, without trying to pop it out, she slowly lifted it from the muddy trap, swampy soil flowing down from the top of the foot as it surfaced, making a soft shthuuuuuuuu sound as the sandy particles fell from her boot back to the small pool she was in. She then placed it where she wanted it to be for the rest of it’s time on Nirn. She pressed her foot down, more of the shthuuuuuuu sound happening as she forced it down. Both her feet were up to about 3/4ths of the way up her calves in no time at all.

She rested, closed her eyes, and let gravity suck her slowly down to her desired fate. She was happy with this. She just rested, exhausted from getting this far. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift off.

Without noticing, she sank deeper and deeper, and the sands approached the top of her boots. She didn’t notice this at all, as she simply had her eyes closed, deep in thought. As the boots sunk under the surface, the sandy soil began pressing between her legs and her boots. An electric wave pulsed over her body in the form of shivers as the muck filled in over her boots, making it’s way between her boots and her legs, putting intense pressure on her calves. She quivered in anticipation, excitement, and arousal as she realized how deep she was. But, she went back to her thoughts.

She reflected on her life. She never had a family. She wasn’t one to want that, she wanted to be a free spirit with nothing to tie her down. No spouse, no children, blood or adopted. She also had joined some guilds on her adventures, but had left any she joined after she saved the world, again, not wanting to be responsible or tied down.

Her heavy boots sternly drove her calves deeper into the sludge. She didn’t realize this before, but this was very dense soil, extremely thick, perfect for how she wanted this to end. The heavy thick muck caressed the bottom of her thighs with intimate suction, creeping up, sucking her down. She playfully tugged at her legs, not to escape, but to feel the pressure of how impossible it was to escape now. She would need the strength to lift 10 dead dragons bare handed to escape now, assuming she didn’t remove her boots that dragged her down towards her demise from this life.

Every inch the creamy blanket of ground took from her thighs, the tighter the encompassing pressure became. The tighter the pressure became, the more aroused the special Bosmer became. The more aroused she became, the more she danced in her relentlessly thick bondage. The more she moved around, the more the caressing earth embraced her helpless thighs more. She felt very connected to nature now, and didn’t plan on being separated any time soon. The soft, sandy muck had sucked her down halfway up her thighs, and the closer it inches to her groin, the wetter she became down there. This was her final tomb in this life, and she was going to enjoy it. Her name did mean forest quicksand, after all.

Her skin was absolutely bubbling with goosebumps, especially near her thighs and legs, and on her arms. The smell of forest sunlight drifted through the air; she bounced downwards, trying to force herself deeper, causing shudders to make her moan aloud, grasping at herself. Impatient, she reached her fingers down to the slimy oozing ground, dipped two fingers into the yielding embracing sludge, pulled them out of the mud, leaving an imprint, and touching herself with those two fingers. As soon as she made contact with her feminine spot, she burst out moaning, shouting in dragon tongue, “GOL MAH TUM, GOL MAH TUM!” This caused the ground beneath her to further crumble, and embrace her with Nirn’s grasp even closer and tighter, with a loving intimate bondage.

As she finished shouting, the muck shook enough to lock up the mud and paralyze her descent with absolute strength over gravity and herself. She tried struggling, but to no avail as the mud was locked while the ground was shaking. Frustrated, she pounded her free fist against the bouncy yet stone hard bog and it bounced off. The weight in and on her boots pulled on her legs, but while the ground shook, they didn’t move.

With a primal shout, she screamed “Fus roh dah,” sending a shockwave of force across the room, causing the quicksand to tighten and not release its grip. What further frustrated her was that she had pulled her fingers out when she shouted, and now her hand was trapped in the static bog, an inch below her ‘juniper berries,’ unable to pleasure them.

She just needed to relax and stop shouting huge amounts of force on the non-Newtonian sludge to start sinking, but a small dark part of her reveled in her pain and frustration, bringing her a darker pleasure. Thinking while struggling, Sylvasyrtim shouted a different shout, “Wuld nah kest!” The whirlwind shout, which once she spoke, pushed her forward with a force- right into the bog in front of her as if it was a brick wall, and she yelped from the impact, her A cups bouncing from from the impact. Cradling her body with her free hand, she rested for a bit, the ground losing tension.

She closed her eyes, meditating. She jolted awake when her fingers touched her soaking ‘honeypot’ from having sunk an inch. Electric signals pulsed through her body, and Sylvasyrtim released a moan. She thrusted her hips at the bog, making intimate love between her jailer and executioner, and herself. Just as the soft sandy soil reached her bits, she pulled her fingers on her cheeks, allowing the soil to invade her deeply as she sank further.

The soft caress of the earth against every inch of her skin, inside and out, felt so lovely and intimate. While she never had intercourse with a sentient being before, she imagined no manhood could give her this much pleasure. The folding earth kissed her virgin ‘mountain flower,’ putting her mind into a deep paradisiacal state, stimulated beyond her wildest dreams. Planting her hands on the surface of the self imposed trap, she focused on banging the boggy ground, entangling herself deeper into its forbidden pleasures secretly hidden mostly from the sunlight, with only a few rays entering this hidden tomb. Just as she plunged into this muck, the muck also plunged deep into her the more she struggled from her helpless yet pleasurable bondage.

Stars flooded Sylvasyrtim’s eyes as she reached the pinnacle of pleasure, an orgasm, an explosion of euphoria so strong she buckled in the bog and her vision blacked out for a bit as shivers spread throughout her body. While not her first, it was more powerful than any she had experienced before, her heart racing faster than lightning across a moonlit sky.

As she came around, her belly button was nowhere to be found, her hands sunk up to the wrists. Pulling fast, she found them casually entangled tightly in the bog, but with slow force, she pulled and slowly slurped them out of the muck, her study yet delicate fingers coated in the brown sandy goop. With her slimed up hands, she massaged and tantalized her small breasts, the mud oozing along the lines she traced. exploring her body to rediscover her pleasureful treasure points hidden across her body. Her nipples, her armpits, tracing along to her neck, she teased and tickled herself, appreciating the hero of Skyrim before she took her final rest in this life.

Plunging her left hand back into the bog, she found her hidden cove, and pulled it open, fully allowing herself to be invaded and enveloped within by the gritty, slimy, sandy earth at this depth, fully enclosed from the inside. A moan erupted from her as she was penetrated by the bog further. Dragging her hand through the thick sludge, she pulled it towards the surface, suction begging for her to keep her hand deep. Her hand escaped with a succulent pop as she resurfaced her hand, the empty silty sludge leaving a momentary impression.

Using both of her hands, she scooped up an armful of mud and bathed herself in it, letting it drip down from the top of her head, the weight of it oozing down her dangerous body. With the bog fully within her ‘pleasure chamber,’ she grinded against the quivering mass, the intense weight holding her in place, and slowly dragging her down. As she humped the silty assassin, the ooze inside her ‘treasure chest’ pounded against her from the inside, stimulating her intensely! Her legs were completely and utterly entrapped to the point of paralysis in this perilous trap she created for herself. The immense weight pulling on her breasts, pressing intimately against her calves and thighs, jiggling both inside and outside of her body, her hips completely encumbered by the dark allure of her filthy yet slow peril.

Getting a self-sabotaging mischievous idea, Sylvasyrtim put her hands into the bog, palm down, and casted a very simple sparks spell she had learned. While she didn’t know that much magic, she knew enough to cast a basic spell like this.

Instantly, after casting, she felt jolts of pain echo through the bog into her, causing her to moan in dark sleazy pleasure. Focusing, this time she casted the spell and kept going, electric pain surging intensely through the bog and pleasuring her, causing involuntary thrashing and causing her to sink just a bit faster. Despite being in the process of taking her own life, Sylvasyrtim had never felt so alive!

Her chest slowly approached the horizon of muck, and as her A cups touched the bog, she self-mischievously cast sparks again, pulling her hands back to wrist deep. This caused her to seize up in pleasure, causing a quite literal electric orgasm to surge defiantly deep within her entire body, causing her vision to go dark with stars for a bit, despite her eyes being wide open. At the same time, heat surged from her groin, exploding from there, pulsing outward across her whole body, from her groin to her toes, fingers, and head, intimately encompassing her whole body in pleasure, washing over her entire body.

When she was able to see again, she realized how fluffy the quicksand was. Not fluffy like a mammoth, but fluffy like a fresh sweet roll you could just sink your teeth into, like it was a bog. The billowing and encompassing feeling of the bog surrounded her entirely and compassionately, hugging her quite literally intimately. Just nature’s heaviest blanket wrapping her up in the very ground itself.

As she sank halfway up her breasts and up to her elbows, she cast sparks one more time, her naughty sinister masochistic and sadistic sides playing with herself, causing a forbidden pleasure to surge and tingle through her mortal body, up through her hands and up to her elbows. Electricity is painful, but in the right amounts, it can be a beautiful pain.

With that done, Sylvasyrtim slurped her arms out of the gooey sloppy sandy bog, and let them rest on the surface. She pondered happily on her life. Having lived a life in Grahtwood, then moved to the province of Skyrim, got caught in an Imperial ambush which led to her discovering she was The Last Dragonborn, which led to her learning her destiny and fulfilling it, and now putting her body to rest.

With solemn demeanor, she dipped her hands dangerously deep into the soft sand next to her armpits, fingers pointed down, and plunged her arms deep into the bog, as far down as they could go, just an inch from her torso horizontally. This was the point of no return. Up to this point, she probably could have gotten out. But now, she sacrificed her arms to her final wish, and her wish to end her life the way her name foretold made her contempt with her life.

The slimy sand on her nipples sent sacred shivers down her spine. If she was to go, then one last orgasm was in place. She placed her left hand within her ‘Nirnroot bush,’ and found the pleasure seeds within, and casted sparks very lightly, immediately seizing up her body. Adjusted to the right level of channeling, she got the perfect level of pain and started thrusting, pulsing the sparks in tune with her grave motions.

The quicksand, in kind, sucked and slurped on her breasts and the remainder of her submerged body, pressing tightly and intimately on her, heavy weight encompassing and pressing on her, the small electricity from her spell enveloping her nerves painfully. Every submerged inch of skin caused painful pleasure, sizzling through her skin. She bounced against the quick and living sands, the weight gulping her down in weighted consumption. Her long brunette hair now fanned across the surface, she held the orgasm in, not letting it escape, but build up, for her final hurrah. Heat built up in her groin, and she was going to only let it release across her body in her final drowning breath.

She offered up her bare vulnerable shoulders to the endless consumption of her grave, the soft soil slurping up her slender shoulders, only her neck and head remained visible now as the slimy earth settled around her vulnerable neck, with her hair fanned out across the surface. With the consistent sparks she was casting, her final orgasm was building up quite powerfully. Thrusting back and forth through the bog in the throes of mindless deadly pleasure, she sank deeper.

As the sandy ooze licked at her delicate neck, pleasure attempted to erupt from her groin, but she held on. The licking of the bog at her neck was almost too much to handle. Especially the side of her neck 90° either way from her face.

Looking up, her ears dipped into sands, and she howled in primal delight at the pleasure caused by the lightest touch of her ears touching the bog. She was completely helpless now, even if she changed her mind now. This only served to arouse her even more.

With the mud licking hungrily at her neck, approaching her helpless chin, her sparks spell being cast in constant pain, her well-built body thrusting, the heavy weight of the muck surrounding her intimately in a deadly cuddle, her metal boots dragging her down deeper and deeper, and her ears just barely submerged in the depths of the ground, the quicksand flooding her elven ear holes, cutting her off from the sound of the outside world, she quivered and moaned, biting her lip, almost to her final destination.

As the silty sandy soft ooze gobbled down her chin, she moaned instinctually, and continued moaning louder and louder, very close to the edge of orgasm, and yet, very close to submerging and her life ending on Nirn. Thrusting up and down, she sank in waves. In one thrust her face, except her nose, went under, and then surfaced again. Taking her last breath, she thrusted again and everything but her hair went under, including her nose. This time, only her nose surfaced, and then with one more deadly bounce, she sunk deeper into dark pleasureful oblivion, her hair trailing on the surface.

Under the surface, oxygen was limited, and running out. Continuing to cast sparks, she no longer held on, and her orgasm built up past the point of being blocked. Sinking into a sensual soft heavy bottomless dark endless void, she felt herself nearing her ultimate edge. It had been several seconds since she tasted her last breath of air, and with her boots dragging her down, it was her last breath she would ever take.

The weight of the sand pushed from every angle, squeezing her sensually and sexually, and it was everything she hoped it to be. She felt her lungs burn for air, air they would never receive again. Thrusting up and down in the darkness, her nerves jiggling in the quicksand, she was being overstimulated to immeasurable extents, and the compression felt as though Nirn itself was giving her a full body hug. Every inch, inside and out, was being hugged, except for her lungs and stomach, but that would soon come.

Sylvasyrtim’s burning lungs felt as though a small crack started to form in her core, and it slowly grew. It was extremely painful, and it led to her final orgasm finally exploding violently throughout her body, pulsing white hot shivers from her groin to the rest of her body, her body tingling and bubbling with cold shivers powerfully. Stars burst in her vision, with blue centers surrounded by orange glows, and then darkness, and also black and white striped patterns surrounding that further out. Her mouth burst open in helpless aroused moaning that could not be held in any long, being quickly suffocated by the soft slimy earth burrowing in relentlessly, filling her mouth, the gritty texture in her mouth the earthy taste violating her without asking for consent. Her very bones vibrated in pleasure and panic, although her mind was very calm, aside from the arousal. It was the best orgasm she had ever experienced.

Each thing she felt slowly faded towards black. The burning and cracking of her lungs faded to a dark nothing. The pressure faded out till it no longer existed. Taste faded as well. However, the colors in her vision only got brighter, cycling through all colors, getting brighter and brighter until it just became white and flashed!

Blinking her eyes open, she was standing there, on a cliff. She was clothed in basic clothing. This must have been Aetherius, and a voice spoke behind her:

“Welcome home, Dovahkiin. Welcome to Aetherius.”

She had made it. She accepted this life, turned around to face the voice. and took a brave step forward into this life. Sylvasyrtim was content.

THE END.

[hiimawesome]

Incredible. Absolutely incredible!!

[DJlurker]

Very well written, I must say.

[Solrex]

Incredible. Absolutely incredible!!

You really mean that? Thank you, I put a lot of work into this, and reading it over, it still has typos. Thank you so much!

Very well written, I must say.

I appreciate it! So this was one of my best works? If not, what was? I know you have read a ton of my stories personally and commented on them. Thank you for the compliments!

[hiimawesome]

I really mean it - genuinely one of the best pieces I've read. The twist that she made the quicksand herself is interesting, and rarely explored. Plus, the genuinely slowness of the sink was hot as hell. It's well written too

[Solrex]

I really mean it - genuinely one of the best pieces I've read.

Thank you so much! This is an amazing piece of criticism to receive right after my birthday.

The twist that she made the quicksand herself is interesting, and rarely explored.

Really? Cause that’s something that I would probably put into many of my fantasies and stories. I’ll have to keep that in mind.

Plus, the genuinely slowness of the sink was hot as hell.

Thank you very much. I hate fast sinks, if you skip a body part without having good reason to, it upsets me. Like for example:

Hot model 37 fell into quicksand and is sinking rapidly. She is up to her knees. As she sinks to her vagina, she orgasms. Being up to her breasts in the muck, she shoves her arms in and accepts her fate as she is dragged under.

This is entirely wrong. Even if we just start at the knees because kinetic motion, it skips the thighs, the belly, the breasts are briefly mentioned, and the armpit, shoulder, neck, chin, and so forth are completely skipped. To be honest, my story probably takes place in real time in less than 5 minutes, but it takes much longer to read due to the details.

It's well written too

Also to mention, I sugar coated this story and went above and beyond in adjectives and adverbs and all the ad- stuff. Alliteration, word variety, and so forth. This was not written in 5 minutes, but over many writing sessions. There was a few typos in the part I injected at the start, since I didn’t look over it enough times, but I’m glad the overall story was fan-fricking-tastic and that you enjoyed it. That means a lot to me. Makes my story feel as though it was worth writing.