"Sink and Swim" (QS, Grim)
#4 of WAM/Vore/Peril/Niche fetishes
Another story of somewhat advanced age...
Xanthus (c) xanthus.sofurry.com
"Sink and Swim" (Good Ending Version)
(Contains: Anthro Characters, Quicksand)
By Zerr
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story consists of two versions. If you wish to read the "grim ending" version instead, please make use of CTRL+F or its equivalent and type in the words "grim ending". You should then find what you're looking for without much ado.
On a bright summer day, Xanthus and Zerr were out for a stroll in a densely-wooded nature trail. The duo had decided to go for a leisurely walk, at Xan's suggestion. Zerr was suspicious whenever the dragon wanted to take him on an outing, as the 15 foot tall, red and black armoured reptilian loved to get his smaller friend into perilous situations, asserting his dominance while simultaneously receiving a perverse brand of entertainment. Xanthus could push the blue crocodilian around with ease due to their difference in size, and enjoyed doing so. Even so they called each other friends; though often perturbed by the large, draconian reptile's antics, Zerr was a somewhat submissive creature and wasn't able to entirely dislike the situations he found himself in.
As the pair traversed the lush forest, Xanthus led the way, telling Zerr that he had been through the area before. After some time, they reached the edge of a small grassy cliff, the face of it descending vertically before tapering into a slope. The ground at the bottom was quite dark and looked like soil from above. A pungent, earthy aroma permeated the air. As Zerr approached the cliff's edge to look down, he failed to notice his dragon friend's steps slowing down to bring him slightly behind the crocodile.
"Looks like a dead end," said the smaller reptile, stopping as he neared the edge.
"Only one way to find out!" was the large one's reply, Zerr freezing as he realized what was imminent. He tried to move out of the way, but before he could, Xanthus gave him a nudge forward and he stumbled, falling off the edge of the cliff.
Zerr managed to land feet-first on the slope below, but it was steep and he couldn't keep his footing. Sliding down the grade, he watched in horror as the black earth rapidly drew nearer, stepping into it with one foot and then the other, his momentum carrying him along, blundering at least ten feet forward into the vast expanse of what he realized now was thick, doughy, dark mud. Before coming to a halt he managed to fall forward, landing face-first in the soft ooze. Pushing himself up with some trouble, his body settled immediately waist-deep, his entire front covered in black mud.
"What's the idea!?" the crocodile yelled, spitting mud out of his mouth, irate and nervous. He did the best he could to wipe away the slop from his face and torso.
"I think you should know by now! You better find a way outta there, Zerr; the stuff's deep!" the dragon grinned devilishly.
Zerr swore under his breath. It was bad enough that he was in this mess, but he was right in the middle of it as well. Any form of solid ground was far out of his reach. He shifted nervously as the gooey expanse encircled his stomach, hungrily sucking him down into its depths. The crocodilian looked around frantically for something to grab, hearing the chuckles and occasional teasing of Xan from above. He noticed a vine hanging nearby and made his way over to it, dragging himself through the thick muck with his hands. He had to be careful; he was sinking down more with every movement, and needed to be as high as possible to reach that vine.
"I don't think you're gonna make it!" called the dragon playfully. Zerr ignored him and kept swim-walking through the yielding earth, almost there. Finally he reached the area directly beneath the vine and swung his arm at it, stretching his body as high as he could. Sadly, he missed the end of it by an inch. He cursed again as he heard Xan's taunting, descending still deeper into the black abyss.
Chest-deep and sinking fast, Zerr pushed downward with his palms as he tried to gain some height to reach the vine. His upper body was now covered in the thick, dark ooze as he sacrificed his arms to the mire in a desperate attempt for leverage. After pushing himself a few inches higher, struggling to quickly bring his arm back up was a battle; the viscous substance did not want to relinquish its prey. Finally freeing his right arm, he reached upward, and with one last, well-aimed swipe, he managed to grab the vine. Taking it in his palms, he pulled himself upward with as much force as he could muster, already taxed by the struggle to get this far. The lean, athletic muscles in his arms flexed as they extracted him from the dangerous bog, in as quick and efficient a manner as they were capable.
Xanthus' laughter and jeering had died down and become replaced with quiet interest, as he watched what he considered his plaything climbing the vine, and slowly freeing himself from the muck. Zerr managed to pull out his hips, and then his thighs, inch by slow inch with the help of the vine. He was feeling rather relieved by the time his knees resurfaced, and was just about to escape fully when, unfortunately for him, the makeshift rope he was using snapped in half, sending him back down into the doughy morass, sinking down to just above his knees.
"What a shame, guess you'll have to sink after all!" shouted the familiar voice above Zerr. Sighing with renewed discontent, the crocodilian surveyed the treetops once more for another vine, or perhaps a low-hanging branch. His thighs were being hungrily enveloped by the black ooze once again, and after a few seconds of searching, he realized that vine was the only one within his reach, much to his disappointment (and much to Xan's delight).
It was then he decided; he would make his way to the opposite shore in a final attempt to escape. He hadn't tried to reach the edge of the pit at first because he could tell it was too far, but now, thigh-deep in the clinging morass, the crocodile thought he might be able to get there in time, with some effort and luck. And so Zerr started to make his way over, his back to the cliff where Xanthus stood, observing him, with an amused expression upon his scaly visage. Trudging through the thick slop, his tired legs pushed the muck as they forced themselves through, his mud-coated thighs slowly disappearing from view once again. Alongside the usual panic was a quiet determination as Zerr made his way, sinking deeper and deeper into the bottomless, all-consuming sludge.
"You may as well give up, Croccy! Just surrender and let yourself be a meal for this hungry bog!" said Xan, clearly enjoying the show, and altogether unperturbed by the prospect of the crocodilian's imminent demise.
"I will not! I'm gonna to get myself out of this, and then we'll see who's laughing!" replied Zerr, without even turning around to look back at his dubious friend. Now hip-deep again, he started using his hands as well to drag himself through the thick mess, having trouble moving his legs as they went deeper. He could see the shore ahead of him but it was still quite far, and he hoped he could make it before the only thing left on the surface were bubbles.
Zerr noticed how cool the mud was; refreshingly so, as the sunlight filtering down through the leaves onto his struggling, strained body made him yearn to cool off. Not only that, but it was also amazingly soft; were he not fighting for his life, he might have quite enjoyed himself in it. The doughy muck pushed back against his kicking legs, sliding around and in between them, enveloping his waist and everywhere below. His troubled thoughts drifted as the ooze caressed him gently but firmly, squelching contentedly as it slowly dragged down and savoured his lean, scaly frame... constricting his body and making movement more and more difficult by the second, churning relentlessly around his weary struggles. How he would have loved to just let himself go, to wallow and squirm in the mire's tight grip, its pleasurable yet suffocating hug pressing against his body, surrounding and filling him entirely, squeezing him all over and finally bringing him to the point of blissful madness within its murky depths... Zerr shook his head; he couldn't let those thoughts cloud his facilities. He needed all his meager, dwindling strength if he hoped to get out alive.
Zerr was gradually closing the distance between himself and the edge of the unrelenting swamp, panting from the exertion and the tightness of the mud around his stomach, and now his chest as well. He was so deep now that his movements were comparable to swimming, his feet slightly raised and pushing back against the mud, while his hands pulled him forward, dragging heaps of sludge toward him with each movement. Swimming through the dark, doughy morass, even his athletic strokes could not deliver him efficiently, and soon he was up to his shoulders, tilting up his chin with a terrified look upon his face. Fortunately, he was almost at the shore, and with a few more slow, draining pulls, the herculean effort of reaching the edge was finally over. The shoreline was littered with plant life; cattails and grass for the most part. Bringing his arms up, the crocodile grasped desperately at the collection of reeds and tall grass, trying to drag himself out. He prayed they would hold.
Today, however, was not Zerr's lucky day. He had barely managed to extract a few inches of his body before he was once again let down by the surrounding plant life. The vegetation was unable to support the weight of his body, combined with the thick, merciless swamp's suction, and his hands ripped out from the ground his only method of survival, the last-ditch attempt to extricate himself a resounding failure. Plopping back down into the mire, his apparent new home, Zerr's countenance betrayed fear, exhaustion, and defeat, as he tossed the uprooted weeds away, breathing heavily.
Fighting the bog's unrelenting grip, he clawed at its surface. His fingers, and then his hands left trails that were promptly filled in again, his arms grabbing for something, anything, weakly resisting the inevitable, but merely finding more of the ooze, splashing down and being sucked under after a few seconds of floating. Drawing shallow, strained breaths, the muck compressed his torso and made breathing an immensely difficult task. Tired beyond comprehension from his futile struggles, Zerr turned his snout up to the heavens as the back of his head was slowly swallowed up.
Zerr was just about to give up, when he decided to make one final attempt at escape. He doubted the reeds and grass would be any stronger, but he grabbed at them anyway. This time, the plant life on the shore proved surprisingly tenacious, and slowly but surely the crocodile pulled himself up and out of the doughy mire. He was surprised that he was actually extracting himself, and was relieved when, after a good few minutes of pulling, he was finally out of the clinging muck for good. Sitting on his rear on solid ground at last, he backed himself away from the edge, gasping and staring at the quaking bog that nearly spelt his doom. Hearing the flapping of wings, he was vaguely aware of Xan landing beside him.
"I'm impressed! Not many would have been able to survive that mire. I guess I'll be keeping you around for a while yet!" grinned the dragon, his nonchalant manner signifying that he considered himself blameless for the entire ordeal Zerr had just gone through.
Sighing with relief and exhaustion, ready to collapse in bed after a nice, cool shower, Zerr vowed from that day forward to be more careful around Xanthus. Still, he thought to himself, the intimidating, huge dragon surely had many things planned for him yet...
~~~~~
"Sink and Swim" (Grim Ending Version)
(Contains: Anthro Characters, Quicksand, Grim Ending)
By Zerr
On a bright summer day, Xanthus and Zerr were out for a stroll in a densely-wooded nature trail. The duo had decided to go for a leisurely walk, at Xan's suggestion. Zerr was suspicious whenever the dragon wanted to take him on an outing, as the 15 foot tall, red and black armoured reptilian loved to get his smaller friend into perilous situations, asserting his dominance while simultaneously receiving a perverse brand of entertainment. Xanthus could push the blue crocodilian around with ease due to their difference in size, and enjoyed doing so. Even so they called each other friends; though often perturbed by the large, draconian reptile's antics, Zerr was a somewhat submissive creature and wasn't able to entirely dislike the situations he found himself in.
As the pair traversed the lush forest, Xanthus led the way, telling Zerr that he had been through the area before. After some time, they reached the edge of a small grassy cliff, the face of it descending vertically before tapering into a slope. The ground at the bottom was quite dark and looked like soil from above. A pungent, earthy aroma permeated the air. As Zerr approached the cliff's edge to look down, he failed to notice his dragon friend's steps slowing down to bring him slightly behind the crocodile.
"Looks like a dead end," said the smaller reptile, stopping as he neared the edge.
"Only one way to find out!" was the large one's reply, Zerr freezing as he realized what was imminent. He tried to move out of the way, but before he could, Xanthus gave him a nudge forward and he stumbled, falling off the edge of the cliff.
Zerr managed to land feet-first on the slope below, but it was steep and he couldn't keep his footing. Sliding down the grade, he watched in horror as the black earth rapidly drew nearer, stepping into it with one foot and then the other, his momentum carrying him along, blundering at least ten feet forward into the vast expanse of what he realized now was thick, doughy, dark mud. Before coming to a halt he managed to fall forward, landing face-first in the soft ooze. Pushing himself up with some trouble, his body settled immediately waist-deep, his entire front covered in black mud.
"What's the idea!?" the crocodile yelled, spitting mud out of his mouth, irate and nervous. He did the best he could to wipe away the slop from his face and torso.
"I think you should know by now! You better find a way outta there, Zerr; the stuff's deep!" the dragon grinned devilishly.
Zerr swore under his breath. It was bad enough that he was in this mess, but he was right in the middle of it as well. Any form of solid ground was far out of his reach. He shifted nervously as the gooey expanse encircled his stomach, hungrily sucking him down into its depths. The crocodilian looked around frantically for something to grab, hearing the chuckles and occasional teasing of Xan from above. He noticed a vine hanging nearby and made his way over to it, dragging himself through the thick muck with his hands. He had to be careful; he was sinking down more with every movement, and needed to be as high as possible to reach that vine.
"I don't think you're gonna make it!" called the dragon playfully. Zerr ignored him and kept swim-walking through the yielding earth, almost there. Finally he reached the area directly beneath the vine and swung his arm at it, stretching his body as high as he could. Sadly, he missed the end of it by an inch. He cursed again as he heard Xan's taunting, descending still deeper into the black abyss.
Chest-deep and sinking fast, Zerr pushed downward with his palms as he tried to gain some height to reach the vine. His upper body was now covered in the thick, dark ooze as he sacrificed his arms to the mire in a desperate attempt for leverage. After pushing himself a few inches higher, struggling to quickly bring his arm back up was a battle; the viscous substance did not want to relinquish its prey. Finally freeing his right arm, he reached upward, and with one last, well-aimed swipe, he managed to grab the vine. Taking it in his palms, he pulled himself upward with as much force as he could muster, already taxed by the struggle to get this far. The lean, athletic muscles in his arms flexed as they extracted him from the dangerous bog, in as quick and efficient a manner as they were capable.
Xanthus' laughter and jeering had died down and become replaced with quiet interest, as he watched what he considered his plaything climbing the vine, and slowly freeing himself from the muck. Zerr managed to pull out his hips, and then his thighs, inch by slow inch with the help of the vine. He was feeling rather relieved by the time his knees resurfaced, and was just about to escape fully when, unfortunately for him, the makeshift rope he was using snapped in half, sending him back down into the doughy morass, sinking down to just above his knees.
"What a shame, guess you'll have to sink after all!" shouted the familiar voice above Zerr. Sighing with renewed discontent, the crocodilian surveyed the treetops once more for another vine, or perhaps a low-hanging branch. His thighs were being hungrily enveloped by the black ooze once again, and after a few seconds of searching, he realized that vine was the only one within his reach, much to his disappointment (and much to Xan's delight).
It was then he decided; he would make his way to the opposite shore in a final attempt to escape. He hadn't tried to reach the edge of the pit at first because he could tell it was too far, but now, thigh-deep in the clinging morass, the crocodile thought he might be able to get there in time, with some effort and luck. And so Zerr started to make his way over, his back to the cliff where Xanthus stood, observing him, with an amused expression upon his scaly visage. Trudging through the thick slop, his tired legs pushed the muck as they forced themselves through, his mud-coated thighs slowly disappearing from view once again. Alongside the usual panic was a quiet determination as Zerr made his way, sinking deeper and deeper into the bottomless, all-consuming sludge.
"You may as well give up, Croccy! Just surrender and let yourself be a meal for this hungry bog!" said Xan, clearly enjoying the show, and altogether unperturbed by the prospect of the crocodilian's imminent demise.
"I will not! I'm gonna to get myself out of this, and then we'll see who's laughing!" replied Zerr, without even turning around to look back at his dubious friend. Now hip-deep again, he started using his hands as well to drag himself through the thick mess, having trouble moving his legs as they went deeper. He could see the shore ahead of him but it was still quite far, and he hoped he could make it before the only thing left on the surface were bubbles.
Zerr noticed how cool the mud was; refreshingly so, as the sunlight filtering down through the leaves onto his struggling, strained body made him yearn to cool off. Not only that, but it was also amazingly soft; were he not fighting for his life, he might have quite enjoyed himself in it. The doughy muck pushed back against his kicking legs, sliding around and in between them, enveloping his waist and everywhere below. His troubled thoughts drifted as the ooze caressed him gently but firmly, squelching contentedly as it slowly dragged down and savoured his lean, scaly frame... constricting his body and making movement more and more difficult by the second, churning relentlessly around his weary struggles. How he would have loved to just let himself go, to wallow and squirm in the mire's tight grip, its pleasurable yet suffocating hug pressing against his body, surrounding and filling him entirely, squeezing him all over and finally bringing him to the point of blissful madness within its murky depths... Zerr shook his head; he couldn't let those thoughts cloud his facilities. He needed all his meager, dwindling strength if he hoped to get out alive.
Zerr was gradually closing the distance between himself and the edge of the unrelenting swamp, panting from the exertion and the tightness of the mud around his stomach, and now his chest as well. He was so deep now that his movements were comparable to swimming, his feet slightly raised and pushing back against the mud, while his hands pulled him forward, dragging heaps of sludge toward him with each movement. Swimming through the dark, doughy morass, even his athletic strokes could not deliver him efficiently, and soon he was up to his shoulders, tilting up his chin with a terrified look upon his face. Fortunately, he was almost at the shore, and with a few more slow, draining pulls, the herculean effort of reaching the edge was finally over. The shoreline was littered with plant life; cattails and grass for the most part. Bringing his arms up, the crocodile grasped desperately at the collection of reeds and tall grass, trying to drag himself out. He prayed they would hold.
Today, however, was not Zerr's lucky day. He had barely managed to extract a few inches of his body before he was once again let down by the surrounding plant life. The vegetation was unable to support the weight of his body, combined with the thick, merciless swamp's suction, and his hands ripped out from the ground his only method of survival, the last-ditch attempt to extricate himself a resounding failure. Plopping back down into the mire, his apparent new home, Zerr's countenance betrayed fear, exhaustion, and defeat, as he tossed the uprooted weeds away, breathing heavily.
Fighting the bog's unrelenting grip, he clawed at its surface. His fingers, and then his hands left trails that were promptly filled in again, his arms grabbing for something, anything, weakly resisting the inevitable, but merely finding more of the ooze, splashing down and being sucked under after a few seconds of floating. Drawing shallow, strained breaths, the muck compressed his torso and made breathing an immensely difficult task. Tired beyond comprehension from his futile struggles, Zerr turned his snout up to the heavens as the back of his head was slowly swallowed up.
He could hear the flapping of wings as Xanthus landed on the ground right in front of him. He was almost relieved, but then he heard the words "Bye, Zerr!" and knew he wasn't getting any help. Alas, after all his efforts, he failed to escape the mire's deadly embrace. Taking one last, deep breath as the bottomless ooze closed in on him, his head was dragged down with the rest of him at last.
Under the surface, his chest tightened. After holding his breath for what felt like eternity, he had no choice but to breathe in. Suffocating in the tight grip of the bog, he clutched his throat as mud rushed into his mouth and nostrils, drowning him. His lungs ached for oxygen. He thrashed briefly, violently, but soon his energy was spent, and he hung there, limp and lifeless, his body slowly shutting down as it was deprived of air.
*****
Above the surface, the red-and-black dragon sighed. He had almost considered saving Zerr, but the crocodilian's desperate struggles were just too enjoyable. He had thouroughly enjoyed himself, but frowned at the thought of having to find another toy to replace this one. "Oh well," he thought, and after watching the bubbles dwindle for a little longer, he flapped his large wings and took off on his way home, for some private reflection on the day's events... and after he left, no man or beast would find any signs of what had happened that day, the muck settling flat, to give no hints at all about what similar fate would strike anyone as unfortunate as that blue crocodile...