Frustration
Frustration
by Furstrated
On some days she might have thought that the feeling of thick mud dribbling into her fur was enjoyable. However, today was not one of those days. Given her current mood, she thought the sensations were revolting. "Oh my GOD that feels gross," Mouse said short-temperedly.
Lavender was a mouse that was going through a tough time in her life. She had an education in Music, but hadn't landed a good job yet (she still worked at a restaurant), and felt confined and trapped living in her small apartment, spending so many of her hours at work. She earned enough to pay the rent plus a little extra, but she had to live sparsely. And what she was most aggravated about was that yesterday her boyfriend had broken up with her after a meaningless fight, just when she was getting hopes for marriage. He wouldn't come out with it, but Lavender suspected that he was seeing another mouse: he had come home late several times, and she thought she had detected another fragrance on his fur on several occasions. So, to try and untie the knots of sadness and anger in her stomach, she had decided to take a hike through the forest at one end of her neighborhood. It was remarkable how busy she was now, that she never found time to take walks anymore. When she was a kid, she was outside all the time, but now nature seemed unfamiliar, foreign.
As she had been walking, she had admitted she should allow herself more pleasant, stress-free time outdoors. She was quite enjoying the breeze... something not felt in the air-conditioned buildings she normally inhabited. Continuing to walk, Lavender felt invigorated. So maybe the idea of Tom liking another woman was just a hunch. Looking down at herself as she walked, Lavender had wondered how Tom could long for anybody else. She was wearing a pair of blue-as-blue gets jeans, and a comfortable white tee shirt that stretched tightly over her bosom. She thought she was looking fetching today. It made her feel better to have such a high ego about herself. It was healthy insurance against the low self-esteem that breaking up often creates. The faint path winded curvedly under the rustling trees. Being outdoors, she was reminded of when she was a kid. Things were simpler then, and she didn't have all of these problems. Sigh... all of these problems. SMACK! She then had mentally kicked herself in the face quite painfully for moping about her problems, and forced her mind back to just enjoying the scenery for awhile. Which she had been doing, until now. Now she had to think about problems again, because she had some new ones: her shoes had suddenly plunged into a surprisingly muddy spot, and she snapped out of her pleasant daze to see the stretch of ground before her for what it truly was. A valley in the earth was all that remained of where a small stream usually babbled through here. She wouldn't have come this way if she had known she would have stumbled upon such a sticky situation.
Sticky as in muddy, with pools of water standing on foreboding, dark, waterlogged soil. Given that she was in an ankle-deep ditch of mud, and she wasn't even down into the streambed yet, that mud could be pretty deep stuff. But, there were quite a few grassy tufts sprouting from the earth around the "banks" of the streambed.
She had never ventured this direction before, but she wanted a change of scenery. In fact, her life could use a little variation from the old tired routine, she realized. In truth, she didn't want to have to change direction because of this obstacle. She tossed a fist-sized stone into the mass of brown and it stuck into it with a wet squelch, only half of it visible above the surface. But it didn't sink out of sight. Lavender's blue eyes gazed out and surveyed the terrain before her with an intelligent, problem-solving look on her mouth. Her tail waged from side to side as she thought. It was only about a 20-foot stretch of muddy ground. It looked like water must fill the slight valley during periods of much rain. From where she stood, Lavender thought there were plenty places to put her feet; there really were a lot of grass tufts. She could step lively from one to the other to keep her shoes from getting covered with too much swamp gunk. Besides, they were already a shiny brown all over. They couldn't get any worse.
"This, I can do," Lavender said, smiling with her solution. "I may have to fight for control of my life, but this thing is easy." Her cheeks felt hot, like she was tempted by the silent dare that the setting had laid upon her. She grinned and felt giddy in anticipation of whipping this problem.
She leaped lightly from the soft "shore" out to a clump of grass that was like a 1 foot by 1 foot island amidst the brown sea. The grass seemed to sink a little under her, and the mud responded, rippling and shifting all around to account for her weight.
"So far so good." But she could see that she would have to take at least a few steps into the dark brown streambed.
"Oh, God damnit!" Lavender said when her left shoe descended into the mud. That bunny-hop was to one of the smaller tufts of grass, and the grass tuft only had a few roots: not nearly enough to support her weight. Wobbling, she steadied herself, with her face regarding the situation with disgust.
She placed her clean foot on a larger piece of vegetation nearby and then lifted her mucked-up foot from the ground. With a "suck-POP!" sound, her foot was freed rather easily. The stuff on her shoe was somewhat slimy, chunky-looking earth. Light gleamed off of the sticky granules of soil.
She stood precariously on the bit of grass, which held her about an inch over the muddy-looking ground. Her head turning round several times, it occurred to her that she had ended up on a tuft with seemingly no way to progress forward but across the surface of the boggy earth. It was time to take a step.
"Fuck... well, my shoes are already muddy anyway," she said, glancing down in angst at her sneakers, once shiny white. Now the right shoe had tongues of mud licking up its sides, and her left shoe was totally globed with slowly dripping brown slime.
Anyway, there was no way she was going to hop back to dry land now. To change direction would be to admit defeat. Looking straight ahead, she laughed as she realized that she was going to walk across this muddy valley. What if she got stuck? She laughed some more as she bent down undoing her shoe laces. If she was going to go any further she figured it would be better to spare the hardship on her shoes.
Setting her shoes aside the mouse now bare foot pawed took quite a big hop from the grassy zone into the muddy one, Lavender quickly wondered if she should have done it differently. Her foot paws plowed the mud out of the way, and her descent stopped when she reached ankle-deep. She was shocked as sopping wet mud sank around her foot and matted her fur with color.
This stuff was definitely thicker than the stuff on the banks of the streambed. "Oh no," she said, astounded at the suction on her paws. She could barely budge for twenty seconds. She laughed. Finally a foot paw popped out with a sucking noise, leaving a glistening, grainy hole behind that filled with water, and then, mud. The free leg was her left one, so she advanced it, and it sunk again into the ground. Her foot kept sinking, and her breath was taken away. "Oh my god..." she said until her foot stopped sinking, shin-deep. She laughed nervously. "Oh my god! Ha ha ha! This is so disgusting." The bottom of her jeans tried to float top of the bog but some of the fabric became sunken.
Her stuck right leg was finally freed through a bit more effort, and it proceeded to sink again, the churning muck rising and rising for what seemed like ages, submerging her jeans beneath the thickness.
Her left leg, once more. And again, the plunging, plunging, plunging, before "firm" ground. The mud topped the knee on this leg. Her jeans were being pressed against her legs by the quicksand.
No longer smiling, Lavender breathed, "Oh my god..." then yelled, "Hello!" Was she going to be able to get out of this? She wasn't even halfway across.
She put on a smile again and tried. Maybe this was fun, tromping around in the mud. She lifted her leg hard, but it barely moved. However the bog issued a series of burps and gurgles. Maybe that was a good thing - maybe she could work her leg out. She tried some more. No joy. It burped at her plenty though. She found the noises repulsive. She curled her lip and tried some more, pulling on her right leg. The mud rippled and slid around her long-lost foot but not much else happened.
"Shit," Lavender said, and she laughed again. She was getting rather scared.
"Holy... shit!" For several minutes she shouted for help and tried maneuvering her legs.
"Help!"
"God damn it!"
"God DAMN this!" Lavender shouted voice hoarse with anger. Gritting her pearly-white teeth, she twisted her entire body to the side with a monumental effort to lift her right leg from the gulping morass. It slipped out. Fuck. She was going to have to either put her right foot back into the trap now, or stand there like a pink flamingo on one foot, slowly sinking.
What was she to do? She advanced the right leg forward. It sank suspense fully past the knee before settling, just like her left leg. "Well, son of a mother!" Lavender said, almost cussing.
It was so futile...
"Ash... fucks..." she hissed."Let me out!" Her left knee was just a few inches under the surface of the mud. It shouldn't be such a chore to lift it up. She tried to lift her left leg until her hamstrings ached. She felt her submerged leg press against the mud above it firmly. Her leg managed to actually plow through the goop towards the surface a little. She could even see the surface of the mud bulge and ripple as her knee strained towards the surface.
"Just a little... more...!" She said, not breathing as she strained powerfully, putting all of her strength into lifting her left leg just a few more inches. The sight of the chocolate-like surface bulging and rippling in front of her fueled her hopes for escape: she was so close to freedom! Her muscle felt like it needed a fire extinguisher to be salvaged: the pain was such that she badly wanted to stop, but she was afraid of the consequences of such an act. She had to escape now! If she could only press through the final inches of mud... "Unnggggghhhhh!" her mouth snarled out.
The mud slid aside as a brown island rose in it: her knee. Her leg was still bent, but it shouldn't be a problem to uncurl it and get it on the surface too. Or would that be the best strategy, the mouse wondered? She was so mad that she had to stop and think her way out of such a stupid, simple problem. This was ridiculous.
Now what? She continued to think for some seconds. Was she any closer to escaping? Was just having her knee surfaced worth the struggle she had gone through? She could feel the mud touching new fur on her right leg, which was still plunged straight down into the planet. The mud on this leg was beginning to cover her lower thighs. "No! I can't give up," she growled, but her anger was still apparent in her voice. She was making a desperate effort to remain logical and not to break. Her left leg burned because she had to contract her muscle to keep the knee still above the surface.
Unsure of whether to break down by crying or by bellowing in rage, Lavender did both. Her left knee vanished under the surface again; she didn't particularly mind it going, since it was of no use to her. It was now clear to her that there was no escaping this crafty, unpredictable place. She quickly believed that whether one or both legs were above the mud's surface, there was no way to firm ground given her location and the consistency of the stream bed surrounding her.
Unable to muscle her legs clear of the soggy surface, Lavender tried instead to move her left leg straight forward, as if to slog through the jam-like trap. She got nowhere at first; there was a lot of mud to move. Then, she gritted her teeth and flexed her leg muscles to the limit, feeling them burn as she worked them. She discerned movement: her left leg slid forward slightly through the mass. The mud in front of her leg piled up as it was plowed out of the way by her leg. Soon the mud was piled up so thickly in front of her legs that she could hardly move, and she had to wait for it to "melt" oozing back into the rest of the morass. As she waited, she slowly sank.
It was nice that the mud was cool; her burning legs felt nicely chilled as the earth cooled the denim covering them. But the mud was winning this game, and Lavender wasn't amused at all.
"DeMint," she said again in her normal speaking voice. Well, perhaps her normal speaking voice when in a real bad mood. "I didn't have to take this fucking hike. Jesus, why did I step into this shit?"
The soupy, earthy gel trap around her legs replied with obscene sucking sounds as she pulled her leg up a few inches, revealing heavy wet swamp muck clinging to her once blue jeans.
"Damnit! Why did I have to get IN THIS SHIT?" Her ears twitched around a face that was normally beautiful. Right now, however, it was a little unpleasant: Lavender was clearly pissed off.
She was raging. She thrashed her sweaty legs against the mud randomly. It slurped and burped obscenely at her as it slurped her down slowly. She had no more strategies; there were no more avenues open to her. Her wildly moving hips were generating enough force to soften up the surface mud immediately around her, and it was gurgling noisily at her hips. Her motions caused the bog to spit mud from her waist, speckling her t-shirt and the rest of her body with glistening mud blobs.
Gritting her teeth, her denim-covered legs were pushing at the ring of mud encircling them, in a futile gesture to escape. There was only a little give and take as the mud sucked at them, trying to inhale them back down into its depths. The mud gripped her shoes with its suction, weighed down her jeans with its sticky grain. But these physics were transparent to her; all she was aware of was her inability to maneuver. And it was frustrating as hell.
She was finding it even harder to thrash now, because the mud was claiming new fur low on her thighs, and her legs were losing what little mobility they still possessed. "My god... I'm still sinking. I can't BELIEVE this!" She definitely felt fear, but it came out as rage.
Lavender twisted her athletic torso from side to side, and flexed her leg muscles, still trying to break free. "What a stupid trap!" she shouted. Why did she have to get stuck in this quagmire? She started to direct her anger at herself. She should have acted differently in the beginning. She wouldn't be in this fucking mess if she'd just used a little common sense. How hard would it have been to test the ground with a stick? Why didn't she think before she acted? Everything could be different now; it was really her own dumb fault.
In an expression she was glad nobody was around to hear (because they wouldn't have rescued her if they had heard it,) Lava used every major bad word she had the privilege of knowing.
"Listen to me! I want OUT of this!" she instructed the quick mud. Her legs strained uselessly, weakly towards the surface, accompanied by slimy, goopy, sucking sounds that almost taunted her. She reminded herself of a foolish child stomping her boots in the mud, until they got stuck and somebody had to pull him out. What an absolutely dumb thing to do, to get stuck in a bunch of wet earth. You'd have to be blind to stumble into some, surely. What happens in mud BESIDES things getting mired? And here she was, looking dumbfounded and beaten, and she hadn't even stopped sinking yet. The mud was rousingly slowly, but it was now staining her lower thighs with its color.
The feeling that things were only getting worse spurred her to attempt escape more. She leaned forward slightly for a second and reluctantly put her clean paws down onto the surface of the mud and pressed. She had to bend over quite a ways to do this, however, and in fact when she shifted forward like that it appeared to her that the mud was rising up her thighs faster.
How aggravating! No matter what she would do, she was bound by this force. Any action was futile. She couldn't recall feeling so helpless. But she wasn't about to admit defeat. She still had a fighter's gleam in her eye, and she had a thing or two to show this forest if it thought it would come out on top. Lavender's fur was beginning to feel hot, as if she was standing close to a blazing fire. But the water-packed mud was cool; this heat was coming from her. She breathed in and out a few times, allowing herself a rest, studying this warmth she felt.
The cool touch of the muck could barely be felt climbing up the shapely sides of her hips. Although she wore jeans and her legs were remaining mostly clean, it met the tip of her crotch, and she wondered if she might be able to sit firmly on the top of the mud.
Nope, her rear end penetrated the mud covering up part of her tail. It wasn't thick enough to support her weight - only thick enough to hold her down, keep her bound, and impede her movement in every direction but down.
She noticed that a few holes in her jeans were providing the quagmire with a doorway to more of her fur. She shivered as drops of wetness touched her legs and slowly dribbled down the insides of her pants. She shuddered several more times, feeling chilled but hot at the same time. The mud was making its way up the zipper of her jeans, and her eyes widened when she became acutely aware of how hot her crotch felt, in particular, as she felt the pressure rising as the mud pushed against the front of her jeans.
In a confused trance, not quite wholly awake, she distractedly lowered an arm and pressed a hand against the front of her jeans, increasing the pressure to her femalehood. She had to dip her claws partly into the mud to reach where she wanted. Both the mud on her paws and the claws between her legs felt good. The fire increased, and the heat was not from her previous struggling workout. The pressure from her paws was fine but the insistent mud felt suddenly wonderful too, like some revolution had occurred and for a moment her opinion of the mud swayed 180 degrees. Lavender blinked, looked around, and completely caught off-guard by this involuntary reaction to the inanimate mud. But was the mud really inanimate? She rocked against it once, as she had done before so many times with her legs. A small swell rocked back against her moments later as the surface of the mud jostled. She shivered again as the wave lapped against her jeans. Her logical mind, still revolted by the mud's audacity, was swept away with angry confusion. She thought it was even more frustrating that she had given into the mud and was now willingly frolicking in it like a child. But the dirty, repressed side of her mind then contributed ITS point of view. "You're hardly frolicking... you just humped against the Mud!"
This thought served only as a turn-on, much to her dismay. Why couldn't she clear her mind and figure a way out of the quicksand? None of the damsels in the jungle movies ever had this reaction to mud. Mud was dangerous, bad. No redeeming qualities to it, that was for sure. What was her body thinking? Did it know something her brain didn't?
"Oh!" She moaned, cheeks blushing, allowing her pelvis another experimental thrust into the stuff. For a moment she felt guilty, not angry, for participating in such a taboo act. She carefully glanced around, fearful that she might be noticed engaging in her naughty dance in the sucking mud. With the coast clear, she then remembered that it had been the quicksand that had done this to her, first grabbing her, then pulling her slowly in so that it could have its way with her. The anger and testosterone of a cornered animal returned, and added to the heat between her legs she was acting even less rationally now. She wanted to punish the lying, traitorous earth for dropping her into itself, licking, tasting, painting her fur and her clothes. "Hell, it is trying to rape me," Lavender said. That excited her. Why?
"It won't let me out... ash... I'm stuck..."
Still, more turned on.
"God damnit... what the hell is going on?" she said pissed.
"This stuff is so disgusting," she sneered, but now she felt arousal when she said that. Her nipples... they were hard against her shirt! Lavender felt perturbed. Her body was ready and willing for sex here, and it Was hardly the time or place. She thought about the sensations she felt... and they were... interesting, she had to admit, but... masturbating here? Getting off on mud? Quicksand?
"Hmmm, quicksand," her mouth said, without the approval of her consciousness.
"Quicksand."
Lavender could absolutely not fight it any more. "Hahn!" A moan of sexual arousal escaped her mouth. Lavender felt terribly betrayed, not only by the normally stable and supporting earth, but by her own body. She felt totally out of control of the situation; she couldn't get out of the mud, due to its heavy, thick, sticky nature, and she couldn't manage to control her own wetness underneath her panties.
"Oh..." She opened her eyes to the quicksand's (she repeated the word several more times) touch. It was divine. She thought, "Don't touch me like that!" How dare the mud be so audacious as to touch her like it was touching her now: like a thick, stiff massage being applied all over her submerged skin below her waist? Her pelvis felt tingly under its pressure.
Her rage had released an abundance of testosterone and adrenaline into her blood and she felt a bad need to vent this energy. She did not want to be doing this. Oh, it felt good.
Degrading her, deriving pleasure from messy mud like a child, or anything else that was immature.
Between her legs...
But what else could she do? Damnit, it wasn't like she could escape. She continued to massage the front of her jeans with her paw, and slowly, gently, rocked her lower body rhythmically. Hmmm. She definitely felt better this way. Not so much fear now!
Still, wasn't it morally wrong to be doing this? What would people think if they knew what she was doing? This seemed totally abnormal, to be masturbating uncontrollably... trapped in quicksand in the middle of the forest? "Oh," she whispered; it felt good as the mud reached her belt. She had been sinking more, because of her movement. Its presence cinched her waist even more tightly than the belt alone had. The sinking... the instability of the ground under her... even it seemed erotically stimulating now, to her awakened senses.
"Quicksand," Lavender grinned. "I am going to teach you something new." Her voice was low and husky. Whatever personality Lava usually adopted had taken a leave of absence!
Lava's sensations became intense. Waist deep in the mud, Lava bent forward at the waist, slapping her upper body onto the mud's surface. Her right arm stretched out across the muddy surface and tried to grip it (only to sink into it) while her left travelled under her shirt, lifting it up and away, exposing her bare stomach to the surface of the mud. As she bent over, first her midriff, then the tips of her breasts touched the silky quicksand. The sensation of her nipples pushing into the brown glop surprised her and her eyes grew wide, and the only noise she could make was a gasp. Her previously mud-speckled upper body became caked in glossy brown lubricant.
She couldn't believe how hot pressing her breasts into the quicksand made her. It was the perfect wet pressure against her nipples, and it drove her absolutely wild. She drove them into the mud again, and again, in new locations each time, steam-rolling through the muck with her soft bosom, nerve endings crackling. Her moans became louder.
She noticed how the mud had wholly filled all of the gaps around her foot paws, leaving her feet pressing against the sticky, matted mud walls that felt so soft now. Her mud-painted toes wiggled in the ooze and she loved how her feet felt encased in tight slime.
She reclined backwards in the sticky hole in the earth, with her shirt falling partly back down over her mud-greased breasts. As she reclined she moved her hips forward. Her paws were buried deep below in the muck, as her claw tips were buried in her own slick place between her legs. The mud kept oozing through the several holes in her jeans, continuing to cool her sweaty fur underneath. She wasn't even aware of anything anymore besides her instincts. As she slipped forwards and backwards with her upper body and hips, breasts dragging through the muck, bits of mud clung to her fur, covering her in little mud-spats, "oh! oh! Yes...
Mmm... fucks yes!" Her cries actually echoed off the low hills surrounding the swampy valley.
The first orgasm that hit her was like the best surprise ever, even though she felt it was coming. Her muscles tensed with euphoria and she exploded wildly around in her mud hole. She almost felt panic; not because of the mud, but because she had never felt this way before. The pleasure was not subsiding, and was so intense it frightened her, and during the orgasm she moaned pleadingly, as if trying to coax her body back to some level of control.
For thirty seconds, though, control was not to be gained. "God damn mud... won't let me out? dung! Ah! Ah!" she breathed into the air, which had grown humid with her sweat and the wetness of the mud she had churned up. The only smell around was not fresh forest air, but only humidity and mud. She was in such ecstasy that her vision wavered. This was alright, though, because she felt like closing her eyes and riding it out. God, her legs were in pain stretching to no avail against the thickness. But oh...she could move her breasts into the quicksand... and her crotch. Surprisingly, the same repetitious swaying of her crotch against the cunning sex-trap never got boring. "Oh my God... Oh my God! Hush!" She arched her back heavily into each thrust, the shifting of her weight creating rhythmic slurping and sucking sounds to rise from her naughty, newfound play pit. "Uh!"
Was this just her first orgasm, or was she having many? There wasn't really a fine line.
"Ah..."
It was so filthy, so muddy, and she loved it.
"AHH!"
...the final contraction of the madams coursed through her, a mad jolt of energy that raised her blood temperature to 105 Fahrenheit. Truly remarkable, the climax amazed her, and doubled her pulse in a slowing series of grinds against the loving mud. "oh... oh... my god..." She huffed and puffed for some time, resting on her arms in the mud, on her chest, and then righting herself, as her upper body would often begin to sink below the surface.
Her orgasm hadn't drained her sexually, only physically. Her muscles demanded rest, but this experience was too strong emotionally for her to cool down. Bewildered at her own behavior and drive, she sat in the mud peacefully for a while before its irresistibility surprised her again, as she knew it would. She remembered for a split-second that moving around might cause her to sink further, and her continued sinking might take her under the surface and drown her, but she quickly discarded the thought, it being of very low priority. Part of her mind said, "Wait... go back to that... that was important..." but that facet of her mind was being overpowered right now by the part of her mind that was making her hips begin to thrust spastically against the gluey, thick mud. It was so yielding but firm, so soft but hard...
Lavender began to feel her tail being pressed hard against her back, as it began to be consumed by the muck. Suddenly angry at the restriction of the jeans around her legs, Lavender became urgent to rid her body of them. She didn't want anything wrapped around her body but the erotic, encasing, caressing quicksand. Her paws fought through the tiring, thick ooze, and fumbled with her belt buckle, which was reluctant to move through the semi-solid quicksand.
The mud now crested the top of her jeans and spilled down her body in places, finding its way deep into the insides of her jeans, skimming easily down the sweat-slicked fur. She felt a blob catch in her pubic mound, tickling her, and a paw was immediately distracted, grabbing her crotch, making her quake with mad sensation.
She had to have this, she had to bathe in this quicksand, and she had to get out of these clothes. Her other hand furiously fought her belt, which finally she solved. Dying, she tore open the top snap of her jeans and her hand showed the goo into the wet realm near her panties. The mud and her fingers slipped against and around her underwear, its slipperiness solo arousing.
The cool mud failed to cool her off down there, so she allowed more to spill inside. Fumbling in the slippery mess, she urgently unzipped the zipper. The wall of mud moved against her midriff, against her... "Oh, that's good," Lavender said as she fingered herself. "Oh... I can't get out of here... fuck this whole mess!" Remembering how she couldn't escape excited her as it made her blood boil. There was so much aggression inside of her. She writhed like a sexual beast.
She had become such a creature that she had forgotten why she was here, who she was, or what anything outside this experience meant. Nothing existed but her wanton, breast-deep, splattered body, aching intensely in both pleasure and pain, feeling endless frustration-powered lust for the sticky hole in the earth in which she fucked not only the very matter that threatened to swallow her whole, but the only matter that still existed in her sex-flooded mind.
Another period of orgasm.
As the waves of mud rolled across the bog, jostling thickly against her delirious body, Lavender found herself wishing the rocking would stop. But she herself could not sit still under such sensations; her own involuntary muscles were rocking the bog, churning the surface. It was a vicious circle; and endless loop that didn't have a foreseeable finale.
She had not been sinking for awhile, but that changed as some of the mud rolled past itself. "Oh!" Exclaimed Lava surprised, her weight shifting backwards as the ooze under her gave way even further. She began sinking as the depths below her feet churned flabbily and made way for her legs. The cool, relaxing touch of the mud made her shiver as it rose. Oh, she loved how it rose. She had been beginning to calm down again, but now now. It was up to the bottom of her bare ribs; she still held her t-shirt up around her shoulders. More inches of her fur were meeting ecstasy. The only part of her body she could feel was the rising ring that the bog encircled that was rising up her torso.
The mud rose from her waist to high on her ribs in several seconds. She sank to just under her breasts. She moaned as it touched them from below. She rubbed the slick muck across her nipples some more, first a little and then large clods which aroused her even more. Such mud, slipping past her nipples! Her brown fur was becoming matted to her forehead with sweat and bits of mud. She tasted mud, which she spat out as much as she could, but the smell was intoxicating. It was like there was less oxygen in the mud-heavy air, and it made her light-headed.
The incessant breast touching earned her another high-voltage orgasm, which she spent clutching at the mud; trying to force her hips and breasts into it. She was in so deep, her breasts were constantly stimulated now, and since they were at surface level she enjoyed the contrast between air and mud. It was so slippery, but so tough to move through. Lavender's lust flared brightly, with her concentration on the slipperiness of the quicksand, until finally she eased to a halt again, whimpering in defeat.
No matter how much effort she put into the fighting (and now loving) with the mud, she was always the one that wore out first. She cursed quietly and contentedly from her tiredness and lack of breath, smiling in relief, listening to the once-again quiet scenery with the sun peeking through the trees that surrounded the little private grotto. Mud splats dotted her face and fur, and it was slowly finding its way home, leaving vertical marks across her face as it dropped.
She was now enjoying the mud passively, not aggressively - not with hostility, but with tranquility. Too tired to move, Lavender floated. The mud massaged, lightly kneaded her muscles with its own natural oils. She felt like she was wrapped in a womb.
Hmm... It was comfortable. "Take all of me!" Lavender demanded, but she couldn't go any deeper. The mud below her feet was very thick, and she tended to bob back to just below armpit-deep. She tried again, but her movements were wobbly, and she was unable to move with any strength against the mud. She sighed in futility. "Damn it... some quicksand you turned out to be." Then she laughed weakly, realizing she was too worn-out by the wonderful eroticism the quicksand had given her to curse it for any halfway-good reason.
After... how long? Of pen-ultimate pleasure, Lavender settled back against the mud. Her breathing and heart rate finally declined and she basked in a radiant afterglow.
As Lava floated breast-deep in the perfect mix of water and soil, her muscles felt great, like they were being rejuvenated already. In fact it was only because they were relieved not to be resting. Still, for a time, Lavender thought she might drift to sleep in this bed of earth. She realized that whatever problems she used to have meant nothing here. It felt wonderful to be free from them for these moments; she wanted to stay here badly, but she knew it wasn't possible. Not only would this thick mud not swallow her whole, but she realized that throwing her life away wasn't worth it, even in a place as likable as this. Still, there wasn't any hurry.