A True Account by Black Squirrel, May 1999 * Note: This text was originally posted on the WAMfan-Mailinglist, so it's not written like a story. Whoa! This is as close as I can get :) What's that guy babbling about? I'll tell ya :) But be warned, this is gonna be quite a long text and I will not always hit the point directly. Heck, I just have to get this thoughts out of my mind, so don't scold me too hard for doing so. It all started yesterday when I was sitting right where I am now, staring at the screen, while browsing the net, reading the newsgroups and my email. Once again I visited some of the WAM sites and dreamt of trying this myself once. But this time something struck me, and I decided not to leave this a dream any longer. To explain my hestation (some of you might know that I never really tried to WAM before) I have to tell you something about my surroundings and my way of life. If you are not interested in reading that, just skip the next paragraph :). I live in a flat together with my mom and her boyfriend. She doesn't know about my interest in WAM and I don't think she would like to hear about it either. She also does my laundry and knows nearly every piece of clothing lying around in my wardrobe. I don't mind this, but anyway, it makes things complicated when you get them dirty and want to hide this. Of course there would be questions (I believe every mother would be concerned when she found some pants covered in thick mud). So I put away the thought of playing myself and left it to my imagination. That special night however, I decided to give it a shot and not to think about the consequences. Still with me? Okay, I will continue then ;) As I said, I made my decision to try something dirty this night. There was some place I knew for a long time, where I probably would find some ankle deep or hopefully calf deep mud. It was one of my favourite spots to go to and ponder about things. I thought, this place should be my first stop. So I grabbed a pair of old sneakers, put on two pairs of jogging pants against the cold and left the flat as silent as possible. I was extremely nervous and mentally cursed every small noise I made. The floorboards cracked, my key squeaked in the lock when I closed the door and even the soft rustling of the fabric of my jacket annoyed me. Finally I made my way downstairs through the stairwell and left the house through the back door. I quickly entered my old but trusted car and started the engine. Again, I was concerned that someone could notice my departure. I can't tell you why ... Seriously it would be hard to hear for my mother or her mate when I drove off, especially when they were sleeping, but I was in another state of mind at that time. Everything I did seemed to have to be covered, kept secret. So I slowly backed out of the parking lot and made my way down the street. A quick glance on my wrist watch told me that it was about half past one in the mornings. When I was a few hundret meters (I'll stick to the German way of measuring for the rest of this posting, okay?) away, I felt a bit relaxed. If they really knew I was gone, they weren't able to stop me now. I don't know why they should try, anyway, they didn't even know what I was going to do. As I said, I wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe it was better I didn't, for if I had pondered my situation more closely I certainly would have stopped right away and returned to my flat. About ten minutes later I reached the forest that borders my hometown to the south east. I pulled up alongside the road and stopped there. Quickly, to keep myself from chicken out, I left the car and locked the driver's door. Then I started walking down the small road that led into the woods. To the left side there was a large recreation site for people to hike, and a big playground. At nights the place was often visited by young people to make a bonfire on the large fireplace and start a party. This night was no exception and I heard a lot of voices shouting and singing as I went by. For one it annoyed me, because it broke the silence of the wood surrounding me, but on the other hand I could be sure, nobody would notice the noises of my shoes crunching on the sandy ground as I was passing by. About three hundred meters from my car I reached the place. It was a large clearing, filled with shallow ponds and weeds growing everywhere. I still heard the voices of the people close by but didn't care about them anymore. I left the path to my left side and made my way through some thorny bushes. A few steps later the ground descended and I was cautiosly picking my way further on. When I heard one of my sneakers squishing into some soft earth I knew I reached my destination. At first I was undecided what I should do. Then I quickly looked around me and made sure that I was hidden by the bushes and trees growing between the ponds and the path. With quivering fingers I untied the straps of my old sneakers and pulled them off one by one. My socks followed next in line and I almost gasped at the feeling of the cold damp earth touching the soles of my feet. To be on the safe side I put my shoes some steps away and returned to the moist spot I had found. Cautiously I made my next step forward. There were a lot of plants growing there and some of them even had thorns which I didn't want to step onto. A few steps later I felt one of my feet sinking into some soft mud, about ankle deep. Inside of me I was screaming for joy! At last I found what I was looking for. I placed my other foot next to the first - felt it sinking as well. Quickly I pulled up my pants. I did a good thing in choosing my worn out jogging outfit for this night, because I could fold it up to way over my knees if it was neccessary. The second pair I wore underneath was just as flexible and so I had no problem with getting my legs exposed up to mid-thigh. The mud over my feet felt soft and warm once I got used to the temperature. I never was getting cold easily and so it was quite comfortable for me. I felt more soft earth beneath my soles and exploratively started wiggling my toes a bit. To my surprise I found them digging a little deeper, making me gasp with joy when I felt the muck sliding up my legs a few centimeters. It was not much but I enjoyed it already, now standing to my lower calves in the black sticky stuff. Then I did what you're absolutely supposed not to do, if you got stuck in mud or quicksand - I started to pump my feet up and down. With every tug I felt myself sliding a little deeper into the morass, working my way down up to mid-calf. It felt so good that I had to force me to stop and rest for a while. The mud was so thick that it even didn't close over my feet but left my legs a lot of space to move. But even though the mud wasn't encasing my legs completely it was not easy to pull my legs out of the little hole I dug myself. I stood there for a few seconds, enjoyed the cool mud flowing down my calves, and decided to try it again somewhere near where more water was glittering in the dimness. Slowly I put my foot down and felt it sinking again. This time the mud I found was softer, easier to sink into yet as strong as the first stuff. I worked my legs around until I was about as deep as before. Then I felt myself sliding a bit to one side and finally I ended up in the very same hole I sunk into before. But this time I had taken the softer mud with me and this mixed with the thicker stuff. This made just the perfect mixture to hold my legs gently in place while resisting against pulling them out. I was really excited then. The feeling of the black muck encasing my legs to my calves, trapping them with it's soft caress, was incredible. I tried to move my feet and managed it to point my toes downward, causing me to bury myself even deeper. I don't use the term "sinking" here, because it was not like that. If I wanted to get deeper, I had to work for it. But nontheless, it was a great feeling. All the time the yelling and shouting of the party people went on. When I had gotten myself down to my upper calves I felt some stones below my feet and my descent came to a stop. This was as deep as I would get here and I stopped my punping for a while. I just stood there, tugging at my legs from time to time, took pleasure in the feeling of entrapment. Sucking noises escaped the mud while I was moving my feet around a bit and this intensified my arousal even more. I could tell you what happened next, but I figure you know it all :). When my mind finally cleared, I pulled my legs out of the muddy hole and stepped to the watery side of one of the ponds. I quickly washed off most of the mud and made my way back to the path again, picking up my shoes and socks as I went. Back on the sandy track I felt the cold wind moving around my legs, so I rubbed off some of the water with my hands and unfolded my pants again. They would have dried up when I got home again. At first I made my way along the path on bare feet but then it became uncomfortable and I stepped into my sneakers. They made some squishing noises while I went but this was more amusing than annoying. When I finally got home I washed off in the bathroom and inspected my feet more closely. The mud had been soft but there had been some stones in it that left a few scratches on my skin. Nothing bad but I could feel them, now that my rush slowly ceased to an afterglow. Afterwards I went back into my room and put myself to sleep. Hey ... I said, I put *myself* to sleep, not you! *snicker* I hope I didn't bore you too much with my little story, but I had to write it down and what good does a written text if you're not going to share it? In hindsight I should have prepared this event better I suppose, but it was not the clear mind working in my head at this time. I found a lot of muddy stains on my pants and sneakers and I don't know how to explain this to my mom if she notices. But I still think this experience was worth it. Maybe I will try it again, and then I will take some more precautions. Then again ... maybe not ... ;)