So, I was walking along this secluded beach, and I found a spot where a crystal clear stream came splashing down the cliff and disappeared into the sand. Now, you know me, I just had to check it out. In case you boys have forgotten what I look like:
(okay, that's NOT me- my hair is a darker natural blonde, the eyebrows match the hair, and I'm a good three stone heavier with muscle, but you get the idea.)
Anyway, back to the quicksand. Nobody on the beach but me. I took off my backpack and weapon belt, pulled the daggers out of my knee-high boots, then took the boots off. Next I took off my arm armor, then lifted up my leather-scaled skirt to unbuckle the leg armor. Off came the body armor next, leaving me standing there barefoot in my gambeson (that's a padded undertunic.) Off came the underarmor, leaving me in my silk shift. I kept that on for the moment- my Northern Warrior Babe skin is NOT fond of sunlight, especially the parts that are usually covered up. I retrieved my eleven-foot pole from its pockets on my backpack and put it together. It didn't take much poking around to find out that there was a delightful vein of quicksand connecting the waterfall to the ocean. And this beach sand was the fine, soft, smooth kind, not the gritty rough kind. I couldn't resist. I grabbed the rope from my backpack. Then I dug like a dog, making a deep trench in the sand. I tied the rope to my eleven-foot pole and buried it to make a deadman anchor. Now I had a way out of the quicksand- always a good idea, as I tend to get a bit carried away. So I threw the rope out ahead of me and followed it out into the waiting sands.
Perfect. The sand on top was almost hot from the sun, but underneath it was warm and wet. It only took me a minute or two of walking and bouncing to find a spot that sucked me in up to my hard-muscled thighs. Ahhhhhh. . . But I wanted to go deeper. I started doing my "quicksand dance" to drive myself downward, and it worked just like always. Pump my legs, twist my hips, and the hungry sands sucked me down more and more. Up to my. . . uh, hips. Hell, I can't play this down. When the warm, wet, silky sand hit me there, I put my hand on the outside of my silk shift and. . . oh, gods! Sort of started losing my mind right then. Waist deep and sinking, struggling, touching myself with silk and silky sucking sand, and of course my body was on fire from both the sexual pleasure and that "quicksand thrill." Damn, I am SO into the whole stuck-and-sinking thing.
So there I was, getting "into" some absolutely perfect real quicksand. What would you boys do if you caught me there? Join me? Steal my rope? Just watch me moan and writhe and sink? Spank my ass for being a bad girl and playing in the quicksand? Tell me your fantasies, and maybe I'll tell you what happened next. . .
Ostara, Quicksand Warrior Princess
