Frankie In Quicksand | ropes, bound, gag | illustrated bondage stories
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Frankie had just been out for a night on the town, and he was cute, not at all creepy. She never suspected that he had doctored her drink and had no memory of staggering out to his car with him. But now she was wide awake and re-thinking the creepy versus cute.
She was lying on a bed in a room she’d never seen before, and felt with horror the ropes that tightly bound her wrists behind her, and the ones that encircled her full figure above and below her substantial bust. She wriggled and squirmed to the edge of the bed, managing eventually to wobble to her feet.
She could hear the shower running—he must be in there, getting ready to do whatever perverted plans led a guy to bind and gag a girl against her will. Luckily her feet weren’t tied and she cautiously made her way out of the bedroom. Emerging into the main room of the small house, she looked in vain for a phone, or something sharp she could use to cut herself free.
But—the front door was open! She backed up to the screen and managed to get it open, only to gasp a bit as she emerged onto the porch. As far as the eye could see was marshy swamp, the breeze blowing the cattails. There was only the faint hint of a road, but when she heard her captor yell “Hey, where did you go?” she took off running.
She hadn’t gone far before the “road” took a sharp turn, and her momentum carried her a few steps into the swamp. But with each step, her feet plunged a bit deeper into the squishy muck; and by the time she stopped herself she was knee deep.
“Dammit” she thought as she tried to turn and re-trace her steps—but she went nowhere. The mud was too thick and viscous, and her efforts just caused her to sink to mid-thigh. “What the hell?” Frankie murmured into her gag; fighting to turn back to face the road succeeded, at the cost of driving her deeper, the sticky mud just barely short of her crotch. And there he was, leering at her. Fully dressed, too, so she realized he had never been in the shower, he had only run the water to entice her to make a break for it.
Her cries for help just came out as muffled groans, her shoulders working as she struggled to find any slack in the rope that bound her. Her tormentor threw a thick strand of rope that fell just in front of her. “If you can find a way to reach that, I’ll pull you out and set you free” he chortled. “If not, I’ll just watch the show”. The ooze was covering her belly button… was there any way to get to safety?
Frankie felt the guy’s eyes all over her, lusting after her, as the soft quicksand slowly sucked her deeper. The ropes binding her had thrown her chest into high relief, and now that the deadly ooze was up just under her bosom she could see his body respond as she heaved and squirmed to get just one hand free... she felt her right hand working free of the ropes, could she get it out in time?
The soft wetness was cold on her nipples as she sank a bit deeper…
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