Old Kaol Story

[velocity88]

Hey everyone (who's reading).

I know this is a long-shot, but just in case: does anyone have that old story by Kaol called Squaw? It was a straightforward story about a Native woman cornering her cowboy lover in quicksand, and making him lick her all the way under. Been missing since his site went down ages ago.

Anyone? Going once? Twice?...

[QuicksandMania]

While you are looking, if anyone has the one he wrote about the Quicksand Olympics (or some similar sport title where the women compete to see who can sink first before the paramedics rescue them), that is a great one to resurrect, too.

[micky3277]

From: "Kaol Sandquk"
Subject: WAM: Hey, a new story! Squaw by Kaol
Date: Thu, 18 Mar 1999 03:59:43 PST

Here's a story none of you have seen before. Hope you enjoy it and feel
free to let me know either way. If you read it on my website, you can
also download the illustration that QS Artist kindly did for it. That's
at http://www.wamsat.com/kaolsand/Story/Squaw.html

Enjoy (hopefully)
(quicksand, m/f, rather grim)



Squaw by Kaol

Tom gave a casual glance over his shoulder. His horse was kicking up
clouds of yellow dust as he
moved across the desert plain. He gave a cocky grin at the noticeable
absence of life behind him
and then turned back around, slapping the reins against the horses neck.
He didn't figure
Chakeela's tribe would be chasing him yet, but he didn't want to take
any chances either. Tom had
no particular destination in mind, he just wanted to get as far away
from Chakeela as possible.
That squaw could cause him seven kinds of trouble and he didn't want any
of ‘em.

Up ahead Tom could see the rise of mountains, though he knew he could
never reach them
tonight. Still, the ground was getting hilly, and he figured he would
find a place near a stream to
rest for the night. Chakeela's tribe might be good at tracking, but not
even they could find him
quickly over the trail he had left.

It was too bad that he'd had to cut out like that, but when Chakeela
told him that she was going to
have a little papoose, well, that was just too much for Tom. She had
been fun and all, but there
was no way he was going to marry no Indian. Chakeela's pa would have
made him marry her too,
as it was a major disgrace for his girl to get pregnant before she was
married, especially to some
white man. Chakeela seemed to believe that Tom would find this news
exciting. He didn't know
what the hell she was thinking, but he knew it was time to ride for the
sun.

Tom climbed off his chestnut mare and walked forward as the stream came
into view. It wasn't big,
and looked to be mostly dried out, but it was enough to quench his and
Patch (his horse's) thirsts.
He took off his hat and dunked his scarf into the water, running the
sodden contents over his
sweaty face. Patch leaned over, bending her head down low, and began to
eagerly slurp up the
water as well. Tom laughed and slapped the horse's rear in good humor.
He'd made good his
escape, and now he could ride on and find another squaw he could ride
on. In good humor, he set
up a campsite for the night and considered where he might travel next.
Maybe it was time to see
what was on the other side of those mountains.

Tom awoke the next morning to the sunrise and lay there for a moment,
soaking up the rays. It
looked to be a beautiful day. He enjoyed his life style with nothing to
tie him down and no
responsibilities except to himself, and maybe Patch. Tom was a good
hunter and he wouldn't go
hungry before it was time to find a new town or village to settle
in...for a little while anyway.

Grabbing his rifle, Tom decided to see if he could scare up some
breakfast. With this water source
it was likely that animals would be in this area, and he began marching
off to see if he could find
some. Leaving Patch behind, Tom followed the course of the river
southward.

The morning sun was already packing some heat, and Tom frowned at
thinking of the ride ahead.
He was walking along the shorebank, ready to go around a bend in the
stream, when his boots
abruptly sank deep into what was strangely mushy sand. "What the hell?"
Tom asked to no one,
startled and annoyed. With irritation, he jerked one leg up and saw the
other one sink in further,
the wet sand pouring into the top of his boot.

"Dammit!" Tom snarled, his good humor of the morning quickly
evaporating. "What the hell is
going on here?"

Forced to place his other leg back down or overbalance, Tom found his
left foot plunging back
into the slushy earth. He was almost immediately past his knees in the
light brown earth and felt it
soaking through his pants. Tom chuckled nervously at this predicament,
wondering what the hell
was happening. He looked about him and saw a dried up tree branch
overhead, too far to reach.
The sand about him had little puddles of water creeping to the surface
and it occurred to him for
the first time, that he might just have gotten himself caught in some
quicksand.

"Shit!" Tom yelled to the sky, as the quicksand was now up to his
crotch. Taking his rifle, he
swung it at the branch overhead, hoping to extend his reach. It was
still too far away. Leaning
forward, he tried driving it into the earth, but it was quicksand as far
as he could reach, and the
stock of the rifle just sank into the gritty sand.

The quicksand was now up to his chest, and Tom set the rifle on the
surface of the bog. Raising his
hands to his mouth, he yelled out. "Patch! Patch! Come here, Patch! Get
your sorry ass over
here!"

Tom lowered his hands, and found his hands and arms slowly settling into
the mire as well. The
stuff was amazingly thick around him, and when he tried raising his arm
again, it felt as though an
invisible hand had locked around his wrist, keeping it at his side.

Something like panic began a climb up his spine then. He couldn't
believe he was going to die in
quicksand, but it sure looked that way.

Tom heard movement in the distance and felt his heartrate accelerate
then. Someone was coming.
"Hello!" he cried out, his voice thin with worry. "Hello! Is somebody
there? Can you help me?"

"Why would I do that?" Chakeela asked, topping the rise and walking down
towards him. Tom
gulped at seeing her approach. Even in his current straits, she was a
knockout of an Indian
woman. Her hair was long, straight and dark, falling to her waist, and
her skin was the color of
maple syrup. Her eyes were dark above high cheekbones, and she looked
amused as she
approached. She wore a simple buffalo hide dress with a plain stone
necklace.

"Chakeela!" Tom cried out. "Boy am I glad to see you?"

"Is that so, Tom?" Chakeela asked, pausing at the edge of the quicksand
and looking down on
him. "You surprise me, as I thought you were fleeing from me."

"Nonsense! Flee the mother of my child? You are out of your mind! Now
get me out of here so we
can plan our wedding."

Chakeela shook her head, eyes downcast. "Ah no, there will be no
wedding. I know your heart."

The quicksand was now up to Tom's neck. His descent seemed to have
slowed, but he certainly was
not moving upward. "Look, Chakeela, you know I love you. Don't you
remember the nights under
the stars?"

Chakeela smiled then, and Tom saw that she did remember that.

"We can have that again," he continued, desperate. "Let me show you."

Chakeela looked at him closely, kneeling down beside the quicksand. She
stuck her hand into the
earth and observed it as it disappeared into the semi-solid surface. She
lifted her hand back up and
a wet dotting of sand covered it. "This is quicksand. It is a stupid man
who walks into quicksand."

Tom grinned foolishly up at her. "That's me. Stupid man. Thank goodness
I have a smart squaw
like you to rescue me."

"Hmm," said Chakeela as if thinking. Standing, she brushed her hands
together to clear off the
sand on them. "Wait right here," she said and winked at him.

"Come back!" Tom cried as she vanished over the ridge. The quicksand was
up to his chin now,
and his muscles trembled beneath the surface.

Chakeela returned a moment later with a rope. Looking above, she threw
the rope over the branch
of the tree. She then secured one end about the base of the tree, and
then the other around her
waist. Tom watched this with fascination and more than a little
anticipation. It almost made him
feel guilty that he would have to run off on her again the first chance
he had.

Holding onto the rope with one hand, Chakeela moved to the edge of the
quicksand and took a
tentative step forward. Her moccasin clad foot vanished quickly and
effortlessly into the yielding
matter. Her dark eyes glanced down at Tom, and she gave a quick smile.
Then, without a word, she
raced quickly across the surface of the surface of the quicksand towards
him. Her feet kicked up
sprays of wet sand as she moved, but her momentum kept her from sinking
more than shin deep at
any point until she stood right before Tom.

Tom looked up at her from his position and was able to see her dark eyes
past the mounds of her
breasts. They looked very pretty from this angle, and Tom realized how
easy it had been to be
taken by her charms. He gave what he hoped would appear to be a grateful
smile. "Nice job,
Chakeela. Now you can get us out of here."

She wagged a finger at him. "Not so fast, white man. You have dishonored
me and run away.
Maybe I just came out here to get a better view of your dying."

Tom smiled, turning on his charm full blast. "No way, Chakeela. I know
you better than that."

A dark eyebrow raised in response. "Perhaps you know less than you think
you do. Chakeela took
her leg, submerged to her knee, and lifted it, placing it behind Tom's
shoulder. She then, with a
slurping sound, pulled free the other leg and did the same, so that she
was now straddling Tom's
body.

Glancing skywards, Tom could now see up Chakeela's skirt at the dark
prize which had once
snared him as hungrily as this quicksand. "Nice view," he said. "But I
ain't exactly in a position to
admire it now, darlin'."

"Oh no," she disagreed. "I think you are in a perfect position to admire
it. In fact, that is all you
are able to do at the moment."

Tom enjoyed the feel of Chakeela's thigh against his cheek as she began
settling into the quicksand
almost on top of him. However, while he seemed to have stopped sinking
for the moment, he was
not feeling especially safe. "Look," he called up. "I will admire you
all day and in many ways once
you get us out of here."

Chakeela pumped her legs up and down, working her way in deeper. She
could no longer see Tom,
as her skirt was like a teepee about his face, but she could feel him
against her legs and knew what
he was seeing. "I think you will make me very happy just where you are,"
she insisted. "In fact, I
think it is very important that you make me decide you are worth
saving."

"Now how the hell am I supposed to do that?" Tom said. "My willy is down
here in the
quicksand."

"But your tongue is not," Chakeela answered. "And I suggest you use it
and use it well."

Tom looked up, and her dark triangle was almost resting upon him, the
hair tickling his nose. "My
tongue, huh?" he mumbled to himself. He was in no position to argue, and
there was something
appealing to the whole notion anyway. He felt her soft and wet skin
pressing against his face now,
and he tentatively slid his tongue from between his lips to between
hers.

There was an immediate reaction and he felt her thighs tighten about his
head. More assuredly this
time, he let his tongue slide into her cleft and tasted the moisture
there. It was hot under her skirt,
and even hotter in here, but he knew his life depended on this little
bit of action.

Chakeela swayed her hips, grinding herself against Tom. One hand held
firmly to the rope, not
allowing her to go any deeper unless she desired it. Her other hand ran
over her sweaty face and
down her neck. She pretended she was riding her pony and let her hips
get a rhythm going just as
they did then.

Click here to view illustration by QS Artist

Beneath her, Tom felt himself descending deeper into the quicksand,
being pushed there by the
body weight above him. He tried to call out a warning, but in order to
pull away from the flesh
pressed against his face, he would have to pull back into the quicksand,
and his head was now
tilted back, ear deep, in the stuff. His tongue licked furiously, his
lips closing and tugging with
gentle kisses in between. He could just make out the cries and moans
from Chakeela above, and he
silently cursed her for getting pregnant and ruining their good thing.

Chakeela could feel the heat building in her, and the sun above was
nothing compared to it. The
quicksand about her legs felt like a tribe of tongues, eagerly licking
and sucking on her flesh, much
as Tom was now. "Keep going!" she cried out as she felt the tongue
hesitate within her. She pushed
petulantly downward with her hips and immediately felt the tongue
probing her with increased
vigor and urgency.

It was impossible to think clearly any longer. Wiggling her hips back
and forth, Chakeela pushed
down, desiring release.

Tom felt the quicksand closing over his face, but he kept his tongue
going. He could feel
Chakeela's firm thighs still held him tightly, and if he could make her
climax in the next few
seconds, he knew he would be okay. Holding his breath, his body encased
in the boggy womb,
Tom forced his tongue as deep into her as he could.

Chakeela felt the quicksand against her crotch now, but didn't pause to
consider what that might
mean. All she knew was it was another sensation made to push her over
the brink. She was
bouncing up and down with abandon now, enjoying the feel of the
quicksand splashing against her
belly. Almost there...almost there...ALMOST....THERE!!!

An incoherent scream emerged from her then, and she let go of the rope
that held her to the
branch above. She immediately settled waist deep into the bog. Chakeela
felt a strong vibration
between her thighs, but paid it no mind. It would not last long; she
knew that from experience.

Chakeela pulled her sweaty blouse loose from where it had stuck to her
breasts and beat it up and
down to get some air to cool her off. She loved this moment, where her
fluids mixed with those of
the quicksand and they shared this intimate afterglow. Tom had ceased
struggling beneath her and
she spared a sad smile for her late lover. He had been as predictable as
all the others. She had
never been pregnant, but she had guessed what his reaction would be when
he told her, and he had
headed the same direction as all the others. So predictable.

The quicksand was now beneath her breasts, and Chakeela sighed,
dreamily. Pleasant as this felt, it
was now time to pull herself free before the suction was too intense for
her. Grabbing the rope with
both hands now, she pulled upwards, her muscles straining. It felt as if
she was trying to lift the
entire bog with her, but after a brief tug of war with the quicksand
goddess, Chakeela felt the mire
loosen its grip. There was a rude sound as her body broke its suction
and began to come free.
Chakeela ignored it and focused on freeing herself. One of these days
the rope or branch would
break and Chakeela would join her lovers, but that uncertainty was part
of the thrill.

Kicking her muddy legs free, Chakeela swung over to the side, her body
dripping wet sand.
Walking over to the tree. She removed the knife that was stuck in the
ground beside it. Carefully,
she carved another notch in it alongside the eight others already there.
With a grin, she walked to
the stream to wash off, and wondered who lucky ten would be.

[PM2K]

The link is dead, but the story still lives.

Thanks for posting. This has been a favorite of mine.

[velocity88]

Thank you so much! I was so sure that this was gone for good. That, and all of my other story searches have continually come up empty. You have made my day.

[PM2K]

For the awesome QSA image to go with the story, check out this thread:

viewtopic.php?f=10&t=14846&hilit=ubergaijin&start=10

Scroll about half way down...