The Kid: A Semi-Autobiographical, Somewhat Tongue-in-Cheek Journey of Self-Discovery
(Or, What Happens When I Write a Quicksand Story and Cast Myself as the Hero)
by Jason Sample
August 2017-November 2018
(If you haven't already read Part 7, it's at viewtopic.php?f=14&t=19595#p125973.)
In this relatively short chapter ("relatively short" because I had originally intended to write only a couple of transitional paragraphs at the end of the previous chapter to lead into the final one before realizing that these "couple" of paragraphs were taking on a life of their own), having bid farewell to Angela and her family, Jason finds himself alone by the river, standing before the quicksand pit that had nearly claimed his and Angela's lives earlier that day. He begins preparing to leave for home himself... only to realize that both he and his fetish are now alone with the object of his deepest, life-long fascination.
Standard disclaimer: As before, this story is "semi-autobiographical"; in the course of it I touch on certain aspects of my own quicksand fetish, both positive and negative, that pertain solely to myself. I do not presume or pretend to speak to or about others' experiences of their quicksand fetishes, nor about quicksand fetishism in general. Your mileage may vary.
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The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
Jason stood alone in silence on the dirt path near the edge of the mudflat, his hand still waving absently toward the place where Angela and her family had disappeared from his sight. The smiling face of the sweet young woman to whom he had given a second chance at life when all had seemed lost would always have a special place in his heart, he knew, and he looked forward to the prospect of visiting and chatting with her on the quicksand forum… whenever and if ever she should wish to reach out to him. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he realized that in their final moments together he had forgotten to ask her what screen name she used on the site. Huh, he grunted, shaking his head and mentally kicking himself for the oversight. Well, at least she knows mine, he thought, chuckling quietly to himself.
He lowered his arm and looked over at the expansive mud pit that lay before his feet, still incredulous over his having played a decisive role in the life-or-death drama that had taken place in its depths earlier that afternoon, only a few feet away from where he was now standing. It really did happen, didn’t it? Jason asked himself, shaking his head again as he briefly turned his attention back to the bend in the river where Angela had last waved goodbye to him. I really did rescue a damsel in distress from quicksand. He looked down at his muddy shorts and legs and at the rope that still hung from his belt. It coiled a few times at his feet before winding its way back into the mudflat in a lazy, looping course, traveling along both above and below the miry surface before emerging and finally ending in the knot caught between the two rocks that were lodged in the dirt, a silent witness to his earlier decisions and actions that had enabled him to save Angela’s life. I guess I really did, he said to himself with a smile as he reached around and began untying the rope from his belt.
As he fumbled with the knot Jason again glanced over toward the middle of the mudflat where Angela had gone under earlier and where he had leapt into the muck to pull her to safety. Aside from the loops of rope that still ran through it, the mire lay perfectly smooth and still before him. There was nothing on the surface even to hint that there was a submerged ledge beneath the shallow mud, nothing to suggest that it suddenly fell away into what was effectively a bottomless quagmire, nothing to indicate that this out-of-the-way spot by the riverbank concealed a deadly danger. There really ought to be a sign or some kind of warning about this, he thought as he stared at the treacherous place, and as he continued to stare he slowly realized that he was doing just that, continuing to stare at it, so much so that he found himself increasingly unable and unwilling to tear his eyes from it, while in the back of his mind a subtle urge began nudging him softly from the depths of his subconscious.
You’ve always wanted to try it, the impetus murmured to him; you’ve always fantasized about sinking in quicksand, just as Angela did, and now you finally have the chance. Yes, Jason silently agreed as his eyes lingered over the deceptive surface, he had always wanted to experience real quicksand for himself, leisurely and unhurried; more than once his adolescent wet dreams had awakened him in the night with fleeting images and sensations of his sinking into a clutching, quaking bog, his legs and body held fast by the sucking mire as it pressed tightly around his chest and drew him into its depths, his halfhearted attempts to escape belying his true intent. Such dreams had even occasionally surfaced in his adulthood, a couple of them quite recently, he recalled with a swelling sense of renewed arousal. He took a deep breath as he stood at the edge of the mudflat, the returning hardness inside his shorts quickly becoming more certain and compelling as the sensual thought of slipping into the gooey, clinging ooze began to take hold in his mind.
You couldn’t enjoy it before, when you had to rescue the girl, the wish intimated softly, but now there’s no one else around, and you have the quicksand all to yourself. Without conscious intent on his part, his right foot abruptly scraped across the loose dirt toward the beckoning mire; it would be so very easy to keep moving forward. Go on, the impulse prodded him gently, step into the mud and walk over to the ledge; it’s only a few feet away. The flat surface of the mire held his eyes for several more seconds until Jason, moving slowly as if in a dream, tentatively placed one foot into the shallow muck, which quickly suctioned itself around his lower leg, and he had to put some effort into freeing himself as he began making his way gingerly toward the hidden pitfall that lay before him, reaching down and taking up in his left hand the length of rope that stretched back to the rocks embedded in the ground behind him. A light sheen of sweat formed on his forehead as he made his way effortfully through the thickening ooze, the sticky mud licking and slurping lustfully at his feet and lower legs with every step.
She’s your ultimate, perfect lover, quicksand is, the longing sighed beguilingly to him as Jason continued moving with difficulty through the muck toward the sudden drop-off; soft and wet, always waiting, always willing, always yielding to your desire. The hardness at the base of his pelvic region had now returned with a vengeance, pressing imperatively against the inside of his shorts just as fully as it had when Angela had been sitting astride him in the mud earlier that day. After several strenuous steps he found himself standing almost knee-deep in the ooze at the lip of the submerged ledge, his breath coming in trembling gasps as his toes curled downward toward the unfathomed depths of the clutching mire before him. Was it really “bottomless,” as Angela had described it to her mother?
You know you want her… and she wants you, the craving persisted inside his head as he gaped in uneasy wonder at the muddy expanse before him; she wants you inside her… now. Jason swallowed heavily, holding his arms out slightly at his sides for stability as he sought to maintain his footing in the slippery ooze. He knew that one false move could send him tumbling over the edge into the stuff of his deepest fantasies… or his most consuming nightmares.
You dream of sinking endlessly into her embrace, the yearning insisted urgently to him, penetrating and fucking her long and hard as she grips your body and pulls you in, enveloping and swallowing you whole as you thrust yourself deeper and deeper within her until you finally explode in ecstasy… and you already know she’s more than deep enough to take you in all the way. Jason shuddered as the spellbinding image infiltrated and began to overwhelm his consciousness. It was a fascination that had held him in its grasp to one degree or another for more than forty years… but was he now fantasizing about sinking into the quicksand… or sinking into Angela? He stood quivering before the miry succubus, teetering on the precipice between sensual passion and self-preservation, lust and life, wish and will.
It’ll be our little secret, the persistent itch muttered slyly in Jason’s ear; no one else will ever know, and I certainly won’t tell. Besides, you won’t be in any real danger; the rope is still tied to your belt, and that knot at the other end will hold between those rocks… probably…
Jason’s labored breathing at the edge of the quaggy abyss abruptly caught in his throat as his quicksand fantasy came up short against the memory of how quickly Angela’s own fantasy had turned very nearly fatal for her… and the realization that he was now about to blunder into the same kind of floundering, foolhardy peril himself. He tugged involuntarily on the rope that was still hooked on the rocks in the dirt behind him, the same rope that had held there securely earlier that day and had allowed him to pull Angela and himself to safety… only to feel its knotted end suddenly pop loose from its rocky mooring, and he caught a quick glimpse of it hurtling past him on his left before it buried itself in the miry surface before him. “Huh,” he exhaled quietly, the seductive haze beginning to clear from his mind as his better judgment asserted itself and he started to recover from his sensuous reverie, “you overplayed your hand with that ‘probably.’” He glanced down at the muck encircling his legs and started backing away cautiously from the submerged drop-off, carefully turning around in the mud as he began retreating with difficulty toward the edge of the pit a few feet away from him, quite aware that he no longer had any anchor of salvation should he slip and fall into the quicksand. “Nice try, Kid,” he muttered with a nervous chuckle as he slowly and laboriously made his way out of the gripping ooze toward the safety of solid ground, “but I think I’ve ‘probably’ tempted fate enough for one day.”
After half a minute or so of strenuous labor Jason stepped up onto the dry dirt beyond the edge of the mud pit, shuddering again at the thought of what he had almost done to himself, and willfully so at that. One boneheaded leap into the middle of a bottomless quagmire to save a helpless damsel from a horrible fate should be more than sufficient to satisfy his quicksand craving, he thought… for the time being, at least. Hey, Angela, he imagined messaging her on the forum, you know that quicksand pit you stepped into without planning it out first and that almost killed you? Well, take a wild guess at who almost did the same fool thing after you left... He shook his head as he considered how much grief the Kid was going to give him for his not indulging his quicksand fetish when he’d finally had the chance, and even now he still had to actively avoid looking back at the mudflat lest he succumb again to its miry allurement. “Huh…fool me once…” he muttered quietly to his mental doppelganger, whom he figured was “probably” not even listening anymore now that Jason had resisted the temptation to give himself to the sucking ooze.
Once more Jason reached behind himself to untie the rope from his belt, taking care to avert his eyes from the direction of the pit while the mud-caked knot momentarily resisted his efforts before finally loosening and then falling away from his body. Free at last of his “rat’s tail,” as Angela’s mother had derisively called it, he stooped over to pick up his shoes, making sure that his socks, wallet, car keys, phone, and Fitbit were still nestled inside them, and then walked over to where he had thrown his shirt to the ground earlier when he had become exasperated with the Kid’s self-serving “suggestions” while he had been trying to save Angela from going under in the quicksand. At least, Jason reflected uncomfortably, he had genuinely believed at the time that he was trying to prevent her from sinking below the surface; his grudging acceptance that his monster was just as much a part of himself as he was of it had forced him to acknowledge that, as much as he hadn’t wanted to admit it to her or to himself, a very real part of who he was had wanted to watch her go under, and he wondered which part, man or monster, had ultimately tossed his shirt away when she might still have been able to grasp it if he had held onto it instead. She may have gone under and almost died because of me after all, he grimly concluded, and despite his having risked his life to save hers, despite her having thanked him afterward both for his bravery in rescuing her and for his honesty with her regarding his fetish-level desire to see her sink beneath the surface, and despite their having parted on friendly, positive terms, he suspected that he would always feel a degree of guilt for the anguish and terror that Angela had endured while she had been submerged and trapped within the clutching depths of the mire before he was finally able to pull her free.
Jason bent over and picked up his mud-spattered shirt, holding it and turning it over in his hands to examine just how dirty it was; aside from his shoes and socks, it was his only article of clothing that wasn’t absolutely saturated with muck. Its lower part was still caked from when he had first slipped over the hidden ledge when he had been trying to reach Angela and had fallen waist-deep into the quicksand, and the collar was smudged with mud from where he had gripped it as he had held it out to her to try to reach her, but aside from those places it was mostly still dry and clean. Jason frowned as he again looked down at himself. In addition to the fresh mud that covered his feet and lower legs and the drying mud that still coated his shorts, there was very little of himself that hadn’t become smeared and spattered with muck and mire during his adventure with Angela in the pit. I’m sure not going to pull on my shirt, socks, and shoes over all this gunk, he thought, nor do I want to get it all over the front seat of the car. He looked out toward the river where Angela had waded in to wash the mud from her body before she had stepped into her family’s canoe. She had the right idea, he thought as he turned around and walked back a few feet to pick up the end of the rope that had been tied to his belt before heading down toward the riverbank.
As he approached the edge of the water, Jason warily looked around behind himself and out on the river. Even though there was clearly no one else in the vicinity, he didn’t feel quite as daring as Angela had earlier when she’d removed her bikini before stepping naked into the mud, nor when she’d entered the water nude later to clean herself off. He placed his shirt and shoes on the dry grass on the bank before wading into the water himself, still wearing his muddy shorts and underwear as he dragged the rope in with him. Once he was waist-deep in the water, he unbuckled his belt and removed his shorts, sliding them down each leg and stepping out of them as he alternately swished and squeezed them in the water to rinse as much mud out of them as he could before throwing them back to the shore. He then pulled his boxers away from his body, letting the water flow between the fabric and his skin to clear the mud away from some rather uncomfortable places that it had managed to find during his earlier dip with Angela in the quicksand. He began pulling the rope over the ground and into the river toward himself, letting it run through his hand as the water washed the mud away from its twisted braids, and once its fifty-foot length was completely submerged before him he dunked himself beneath the surface, running his fingers and hands through his hair and over his body to remove as much of the mud as he could from himself before emerging. Convinced that he was as clean as he was going to get under the circumstances, he turned and began making his way toward the shore.
Once back on land, Jason squeezed as much water out of his boxers as he could without removing them — There’s still no one around, right? he wondered as he self-consciously glanced around himself — and then wrung out his shorts as well before putting them back on and buckling his belt. He then sat down and dried off his feet and legs with the clean parts of his shirt before emptying the contents of his Sketchers onto the ground. He pulled his dry socks and shoes onto his feet and then laced up his footwear, glad that at least his feet would be comfortably dry for the walk up the trail to his car. He again examined his shirt, now wet in its clean parts but still muddy at its collar and tail, and he decided that pulling it back on over his head and torso in its less than clean condition wouldn’t make much sense after he had gone to the trouble of washing up in the river. I’ll just carry it with me and see if I have a clean shirt in the car, he concluded as he picked up the rope and began coiling its length into a looping ring before clipping it onto his belt. As dressed and as dry as he could make himself for now, he glanced at his surroundings one last time to make sure that he wasn’t forgetting anything as he gathered up the items that he had stowed earlier inside his shoes. Satisfied that he had all his belongings with him, he turned and began to make his way back up the trail, taking care to avoid a final backward glance toward the tempting mire behind him as the setting sun at last disappeared behind the distant ridge; after his most recent close call at the edge of the quicksand, Jason wasn’t about to give the Kid a chance to lure him back into the clinging ooze and play him for a fool a second time.
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To be concluded (finally!) in Part 9: “Reconciliation.”
The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
- JSample
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- Location: Virginia
The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
Jason Sample
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- Posts: 230
- Joined: Tue Mar 06, 2018 7:02 pm
Re: The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
This has been a really good story, can't wait to see the ending. Glad I waited this long to read this multi-part story. When' is the final part being posted? And is this a real story, because I thought it was complete fiction up until the previous chapter.
- JSample
- Posts: 499
- Joined: Thu Jul 06, 2017 3:27 pm
- Location: Virginia
Re: The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
Solrex wrote:This has been a really good story, can't wait to see the ending. Glad I waited this long to read this multi-part story. When' is the final part being posted? And is this a real story, because I thought it was complete fiction up until the previous chapter.
As I mentioned in my comment on your "Unexpected Sinking Calamity" story, Solrex, I'm glad you're enjoying my story, and I plan to post the conclusion on Thursday. As to whether this is a "real" story, well... in the sense that it actually exists for you and others to read, it's "real," and as to whether it depicts "real" events and a "real" girl named Angela who's "really" on the forum, well... I'm not one to kiss and tell! (Or am I?)

Jason Sample
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- Posts: 230
- Joined: Tue Mar 06, 2018 7:02 pm
Re: The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
JSample wrote:Solrex wrote:This has been a really good story, can't wait to see the ending. Glad I waited this long to read this multi-part story. When' is the final part being posted? And is this a real story, because I thought it was complete fiction up until the previous chapter.
As I mentioned in my comment on your "Unexpected Sinking Calamity" story, Solrex, I'm glad you're enjoying my story, and I plan to post the conclusion on Thursday. As to whether this is a "real" story, well... in the sense that it actually exists for you and others to read, it's "real," and as to whether it depicts "real" events and a "real" girl named Angela who's "really" on the forum, well... I'm not one to kiss and tell! (Or am I?)
I suppose if this story really did happen, some details may have been changed for either lack of memory or making a better story. For example, I'm pretty sure you can't submerge in quicksand, but it may depend on the kind of quicksand you're in. Regardless, it's very enjoyable, and I appreciate your writing.
- JSample
- Posts: 499
- Joined: Thu Jul 06, 2017 3:27 pm
- Location: Virginia
Re: The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
Solrex wrote:I suppose if this story really did happen, some details may have been changed for either lack of memory or making a better story. For example, I'm pretty sure you can't submerge in quicksand, but it may depend on the kind of quicksand you're in. Regardless, it's very enjoyable, and I appreciate your writing.
Thank you, Solrex, and while, yes, the "quicksand" sequence and its aftermath are indeed fictional, I take it as a high compliment that my writing led you to wonder if perhaps my story were "real" after all, even if you only wondered that briefly.

Jason Sample
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- Posts: 230
- Joined: Tue Mar 06, 2018 7:02 pm
Re: The Kid (Part 8): Last Temptation
JSample wrote:Solrex wrote:I suppose if this story really did happen, some details may have been changed for either lack of memory or making a better story. For example, I'm pretty sure you can't submerge in quicksand, but it may depend on the kind of quicksand you're in. Regardless, it's very enjoyable, and I appreciate your writing.
Thank you, Solrex, and while, yes, the "quicksand" sequence and its aftermath are indeed fictional, I take it as a high compliment that my writing led you to wonder if perhaps my story were "real" after all, even if you only wondered that briefly.
You're welcome.

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