65sinking's Daz Creations (New upload 10 July 2025)

[65sinking]

After lurking in the community for years, I finally started creating and sharing some of my own content thanks to generative AI. But trying to get AI to create the images and scenarios in my mind has often been a time-consuming and frustrating process, and given that I've been making it a habit to write short stories and vignettes to accompany the images that I choose to post, my current spell of writer's block isn't helping. As an alternative, I ended up downloading Daz Studio, installed some assets, and began figuring out the basics. Here's my first quicksand render.

Bystander

Bystander.png

She knew he wasn't going to save her. But with time running out, she had to give it one last try. How could someone just stand there and watch as she was swallowed up by the ground?

"Please," she begged, as she sank another inch deeper into the quicksand, up to her chin in the dark, gooey mud. "I'm about to go under..."

[ghostofmyeyes]

That's well done, I like her expression. I hope Daz serves your vision well.

[quagmire_uk]

Looks great! Even when talking about computer graphics like Daz studio, I think the results are much better than AI.

[sixgunzloaded]

Nice job on this! I like the mud coverage and her wide eyes. A great first render. Thanks for sharing it!

[65sinking]

That's well done, I like her expression. I hope Daz serves your vision well.

Thank you! Yes, I really wanted to portray her as having a look of horror and dismay. I'm having a lot of fun with it. I'm still learning a lot of the fundamentals and doing a lot of trial and error, but it's so fulfilling when I finally figure something out and the scene I had in my mind slowly comes together.

Looks great! Even when talking about computer graphics like Daz studio, I think the results are much better than AI.

Thanks! In some way, I've always been amazed and inspired by the quicksand images that people have created using software like Daz and Poser since the early 2000s. 3D art has always been an important part of the history of the quicksand fetish community, and I'm glad to finally give it a try.

I had a lot of fun playing with generative AI, but I'll admit that I didn't have very high standards in the past. Months later, looking back on the thousands of images I've generated and saved with a more critical eye, so many of them aren't good at all. There's some great AI-generated content being shared by other people, but a lot of it still requires some level of editing and processing to truly elevate it to the next level. Playing with Daz might require more time and investment and a learning curve, but I kind of feel better about the amount of control I have over the finished work, rather than hitting "generate" again and again and getting more and more dissatisfied with the results.

Nice job on this! I like the mud coverage and her wide eyes. A great first render. Thanks for sharing it!

Thank you so much for the praise, I've admired your work over the years, so I'm so happy that you liked it. Yes I was going for a somewhat mud-splattered look, and a horrified and dismayed expression. There's something about seeing an image of someone chin deep in quicksand that I find really exciting, so I decided to go with that depth for my very first render. I'm slowly learning more as I keep playing with Daz, and I'm hoping that one day, I'll be able to have a cast of characters like Susan, whom I can place in elaborate perilous sinking scenarios...

[onesixthsinker]

Your work is coming along fantastically so far, keep up with it.

If you ever need help or have questions, feel free to reach out.

[65sinking]

Your work is coming along fantastically so far, keep up with it.

If you ever need help or have questions, feel free to reach out.

Thank you! It's been great drawing inspiration from you, among many other 3D artists. And yes, I'll definitely be asking for help before long.

[65sinking]

I completed a second quicksand render earlier this week. I decided to write a story to accompany it, but as expected, the story took on a life of its own, and it ended up taking longer than expected to complete. But here it is.

Discovery in the Marsh

DiscoveryintheMarsh.png

It’s 7.30 am. You’re not sure if you’ve made the right choice, going out for a morning hike on your day off instead of sleeping in. But regularly spending time outdoors has been so vital and essential for your well-being, and you’ve been so busy at work that for the last couple of weeks, all you had were short walks during your lunch breaks in the city park near your office. Sure, spotting common urban critters helped, but these brief encounters only made you yearn for the chance to head out into a truly wild space. You need to spend a good few hours away from the stresses of life in the city, and immerse yourself in the beauty of nature. A bit of forest bathing and wildlife photography should really help take your mind off things for a while.

As you arrive at the visitor centre of your favourite nature reserve, you look up at the sky cautiously. For the last few days, your area has been hit by early morning thunderstorms, and while they usually end not long after dawn, sometimes the weather suddenly shifts later in the morning and brings on more intense downpours. There are some shelters scattered along the trails, but they are few and far between, and you don’t really want to get caught out in the open if it starts raining. At least it’s only partly cloudy, and there’s no sign of any impending wet weather for now.

You leave the visitor centre and begin walking down one of the trails, completely surrounded by lush greenery. You can already feel the stress and tension fading away, and a sense of calm and serenity washes over you. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, enjoying the soothing, earthy blend of scents of the forest in the fresh, cool morning air. There is also a slight hint of excitement and adventure; you are in a nature reserve after all, and nature, for all of its beauty and splendour, is not without its potential hazards.

The vegetation has clearly benefited from the rains, and you haven’t seen so many different shades of green anywhere else. Several different types of plants are flowering, and as you go closer, you can pick up a hint of their fragrance. You feel reinvigorated and energised. But the dense canopy and undergrowth mean that it’s going to be more challenging to spot wildlife.

You walk slowly, scanning the forest all around you, looking out for the slightest hint of movement; a rustling of leaves might indicate the presence of an animal you could photograph. The morning chorus is in full swing, as a multitude of birds, most of them concealed by the vegetation, sing, chirp, squawk and screech all around you. You make a mental checklist of all the different species you’re hearing, at least the ones you can identify. Perhaps you might be able to pick out something rare, and try to wait to photograph it. The birds are accompanied by countless grasshoppers, katydids, and cicadas. It’s melodious and soothing. Camera in hand, you continue your hike, and start taking photographs of your surroundings, the greenery, and all the creatures you manage to spot, large and small. You haven’t felt this good in a while.

One good thing about visiting on a weekday is that there aren’t many other people around. There are long stretches where you seem to be the only person on the trail. In the span of two hours, you’ve seen fewer than twenty other people. Perhaps the recent spate of wet weather in the mornings also meant that more people opted not to take the risk of getting drenched in a storm.

It’s just what you needed; you’ve had enough of crowds for a while, and with fewer people around, the higher your chances of encountering wildlife along the trail. Still, you smile and nod politely as you meet other visitors enjoying their time out in nature. You even pause for a while to join an older man with a high-end DSLR, massive telephoto lens, and tripod, as both of you take photographs of a mixed flock of birds feasting on the fruits of a tree. After a while, more photographers show up, and begin setting up their gear next to you. Not wanting to be part of a large group of people, you wish them well and continue walking.

You reach the innermost portion of the nature reserve. Few people ever make it this far in, not just because of the distance from the visitor centre, but because of the terrain. The vegetation is more open, as the forest transitions to open woodland, interspersed with large expanses of marshes in the low-lying areas. There are much fewer trees to provide shade, and anyone still out here by late morning has to brave the midday sun. The trail is more overgrown, lined with dense clumps of ferns and tall grass, and anyone who walks too close to the side of the trail soon discovers why it’s a bad idea, as the grass blades make short work of any area of exposed skin. Closer to the marshes, the soil is often waterlogged, and the trails can get very muddy and slippery after heavy rain.

Not that you mind at all. You enjoy the solitude, and there are some opportunities to spot wildlife that would be more challenging to see in the forest. You are well prepared, even as your boots make squishing sounds as you pass through the muddy spots on the trail. You skirt around puddles, and merrily skip over small rivulets that flow across the trail, sending water from all across the landscape into the wetlands. The scents have changed as well; there is a stronger smell of decay, along with the fetid stench of hydrogen sulphide bubbling up from the pools of stagnant water, full of decomposing plant matter. Off-putting to many people, but you’ve grown to love this underappreciated aroma of the marsh.

Dragonflies, in various brilliant shades of red, orange, blue, and green, dart about everywhere. In addition to the birds and insects, the soundscape is now joined by innumerable unseen frogs croaking, trilling, and squeaking. You notice some movement to your side, and as you look closely, you realise that it’s a large frog, sitting on the ground. You slowly raise your camera, trying not to make any sudden movements, and carefully zoom in. Almost there…

Just then, you hear heavy footsteps, and another person jogs past behind you. You’re too focused on your photo opportunity to turn around and acknowledge them. You press the shutter just as the frog, seemingly startled, leaps away and dives into a nearby pool, vanishing beneath a carpet of duckweed and algae. You review your shot, hoping that you were able to capture a clear image, but sadly, all you got was a blur of motion. You look up in mild annoyance, but the other person has already disappeared, having headed further down the trail, seemingly completely unaware that they had ruined your shot.

Joggers, you grumble to yourself. Always making so much noise, oblivious to the wildlife that’s all around them, and scaring them away. Most don’t make it this deep into the nature reserve, but one of them is now ahead of you. Hopefully they don’t spook everything. You decide to pause for a while and have a drink of water, putting more distance between yourself and the jogger.

You resume your hike, hoping that the wildlife has returned to the trail. Not long after, you can’t believe your luck, as you spot a large black, serpentine shape up ahead on the trail, smoothly gliding over the ground. You freeze in your tracks. A cobra! How exciting, it’s been months since you’ve been able to see one out in the open. You get down on one knee, and begin taking photos in rapid succession. Out of all the wildlife you’ve seen this morning, this has to be the highlight so far.

Nonetheless, the joy and excitement is mixed with the slightest tinge of primal fear, and you keep a respectful distance, taking care not to get too close and alarm the snake. It’s slowly and methodically inspecting every inch of ground with its forked tongue, as it rears up slightly and warily looks around, perhaps trying to pick up the scent of a frog or small mammal. As it continues its search for prey, the cobra is moving in your direction, and you prepare to get up and back away. As you move, the snake is suddenly alerted to your presence, several metres away. It rears up, and opens its hood in the classic cobra threat posture. It looks right at you. You nervously take a few more photographs. Both of you stay still for a few moments. Then, as if it knows that it’s sent you a clear message to stay away, it closes its hood, lowers its head, turns to the side, and slithers off, melting away into the undergrowth next to the trail. In mere seconds, it has disappeared without a trace.

You do a fist pump. You can almost feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and realise that your shirt is slightly damp from perspiration. That was such an awesome encounter! You just hope that your photos of the cobra turn out well. Still, as you carefully walk past the spot where the snake vanished, you keep to the opposite side of the trail. What a beautiful creature, you think to yourself.

You’re almost at the end of the trail. It’s been a wonderful morning, and you’re glad that you decided to make the trip. You’re satisfied with the wildlife you’ve managed to spot, and there’s still a chance to make even more observations. Just up ahead, beyond a dense thicket of tall grasses and shrubs, the trail ends at a small lookout point, with a small shelter and viewing platform in front of a large area of open, waterlogged marshland. You like to sit there to look at wetland birds, or to photograph dragonflies. Once you were even lucky enough to watch a family of otters playing and catching fish in the water. You’ve packed your lunch, and you’re looking forward to spending the next few hours sitting there and relaxing, before heading back out to the exit, with hopefully more wildlife sightings along the way. Even so, what could possibly top a close encounter with a cobra?

Just then, you hear something odd. A series of slow, wet slapping sounds, coming from the end of the trail. It doesn’t sound like a frog jumping into the water, or an animal swimming. You stop and listen intently, trying to figure out what it could be. Your eyes open wide in surprise. Are your ears playing tricks on you, but is that a person grunting and breathing heavily?

Your curiosity piqued, you decide to go closer. As you slowly approach the thicket, you notice the mud on the trail getting thicker. With every step, it gives way ever so slightly beneath your weight, and you sink a little, almost up to the lowermost eyelets of your boots. You can feel the suction as you raise your feet and it gently tugs on your soles, reluctantly releasing its hold on you with every step. The rain has made everything here even soggier than usual. At least your boots are waterproof.

“Oh no, I can’t get out…”

Wait, that’s a woman’s voice, you think to yourself, as you cover the final few metres through the thicket. What’s going on here?

You emerge from the vegetation, and come to a stop at the end of the trail. As expected, the marsh is a lovely sight. Many of the wetland plants are in full bloom, and are surrounded by a variety of butterflies. A large heron flies past in the distance, while a kingfisher perches on a small tree not too far away. Several turtles bask on a log above the water’s surface.

But you barely register any of that, as you stare, dumbfounded, at the scene in front of you.

The viewing platform is located a metre or so above the edge of the marsh. In front of the platform, close to the water’s edge, a young woman is floundering waist deep in what seems to be a pool of muddy water. The front of her pink sports bra is splattered with dark brown mud, with splashes all over her body, and even some staining her face. She doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet. Instead, she is looking down at the ground, struggling as she twists her body from side to side, all while gasping and panting.

You can’t help but notice her slim and toned figure, dark brown hair, delicate features, and fair skin. Wow, she’s very attractive, you think to yourself. What’s she doing out here?

Just then, she realises that she isn’t alone, and looks up at you, with panic in her eyes. For a moment, you can almost feel a sense of relief and happiness coming from her, before the fear and anxiety return.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here, please help me, I fell off and I’m stuck in the mud!” The thick, goopy sludge swirls around her.

She lifts her arms and tries to reach out to you.

“Don’t panic! I’ll try to get you out.”

You take off your backpack, place it on the ground, and carefully approach her, clambering off the viewing platform and onto the edge of the marsh itself. The mud here is deeper, and before long, you have sunk to your ankles. But at least you can feel the bottom beneath you. You try to reach her outstretched hands, but you’re still too far away.

“I still can’t reach you! Please hurry, I’m getting deeper…” She looks down at the mud surrounding her body, and whimpers. You look closely. Is she… sinking?

At first, you don’t see it, but you finally notice how the mud forms a shallow depression around her, quivering and undulating with her every movement. Inch by inch, it creeps up her body, or more accurately, she is slowly sinking deeper and deeper. As you watch, her navel vanishes beneath the surface. Oh dear. She’s in really serious trouble.

You take another step forward, and almost manage to grab her hand, but yelp in panic as the ground seems to collapse, and turns to liquid slurry beneath your weight. Before you can react, your right leg plunges into the muck, and you sink to your knee. You quickly step back onto firmer ground, pulling on your leg to free it from the suction of the mud, which relinquishes its grip on your foot with a loud, disgusting slurp. The ooze has managed to get past your boots, and you can’t help but grimace as the moisture seeps through your socks and surrounds your feet.

You look at the young woman, still trying to reach for you. She’s visibly sunk just a little bit deeper.

“If I can just… reach… you!” She places both hands on the surface of the mud, and tries to push herself up. It seems to work; her arms tensing and straining with the effort, she rises above the surface for a few inches. But as she lifts her right arm and tries to grab your hand, her fingertips just barely brushing against yours, she plunges back down again, this time deeper than before. She gives a yelp of surprise. “Ah! My arm… it’s stuck!” Her left arm is mired up to her elbow. She tries to free her trapped arm, and tugs at it to no avail; it remains firmly embedded. Defeated, she lowers her right arm, letting it rest on the surface, her fingers leaving deep gouges in the surface that quickly melt away. Her right arm begins to sink, but she realises the danger and lifts it up again, not wanting to risk getting it stuck as well.

The sludge has reached the bottom of her sports bra. She winces. “This is so gross!” she cries. She thrashes about briefly, then screams in alarm as the slop begins churning with her struggles, and she starts sinking even more rapidly.

“Don’t struggle, it’ll only make you sink faster! Don’t worry, I’ll get you out,” You attempt to calm her down, as you try to think of a way to get her out without falling in yourself.

You find another spot with somewhat firmer ground, and get a little closer, sinking up to your ankles again. “Give me your hand.”

She raises her right arm again. Damn, she’s still out of reach. “My arm is getting tired,” she whines.

She looks down as the mud slowly rises towards her bosom. You try not to stare as the mud seems to give way a little as she descends, before rising and moulding itself around her breasts, as if eagerly preparing to devour them whole. She whimpers fearfully. “Please… I don’t want to sink in this… quicksand…”

You instinctively begin to correct her, “It’s not quicksand, it’s-”

Quicksand!

Something unexpected happens. Your entire body tenses up, as if hearing her utter the word activated something deep within you. You look at her, and suddenly, the scene in front of you seems different, almost… sensual?

Wait, what?

You can’t believe what you’re thinking. You stretch your arm a little bit further. She sinks just a little bit more. “I’ve almost got you!”

But even as you try to reach her hand, you hear a voice whispering in your mind.

Look at her. Such a sweet young thing. Isn’t she lovely?

Look at her body disappearing as she sinks deeper and deeper.

Look at the thick, brown mud surrounding her, like a mouth that’s slowly sucking her in.

Look at her skin, glistening with sweat, and coated with a layer of gunk.

Look at how she is so utterly vulnerable and helpless, a damsel in distress in desperate need of rescue.

Look at how she fights, a futile battle against a terrible fate.

Look at how the marsh is claiming her.

And listen… listen to the bubbling and gurgling of the mud as it ripples and draws her in deeper. Listen to her breathing, her whimpers and cries, her struggles…

Doesn’t that turn you on?

You are horrified by this wave of intrusive thoughts. You try to ignore them, and take another step forward. The mud rises to your calves, then to your shins. The gap closes just a bit more between your hand and hers. But you can feel your breathing getting faster, your heartbeat quicken, and blood flowing… downwards, towards the most intimate area of your own body.

She wriggles in place, gasping and whimpering. “I can’t… I can’t feel the bottom…” She chokes back a sob as the ooze continues to suck her down.

The whispering returns.

Listen to how she’s moaning and panting.

Isn’t this incredibly erotic?

Do you think that maybe… she might be getting turned on by this, just like you are?

Would you… would you like to see her sink further?

You’re aghast at the dark thoughts creeping into your mind.

No! You’re not that kind of person. You’re not going to watch someone drown in this marsh. You lean forward and stretch your arm out a little more. Your arm trembles, your muscles burning from the exertion.

The sinking girl looks at you with pleading, tear-filled eyes. She bites her lower lip, trying not to panic. “Please… please save me. I don’t want to die here…” Her right hand is still agonisingly just out of reach. She tries to lift her left arm, but it remains firmly buried in the muck.

The silt swallows her up just a little bit more, finally fully claiming her breasts, and reaching for her collarbone. “No! Why am I still sinking?”

She looks down again with dread. A bubble rises out of the mire and pops, splashing and coating her neck with more goopy mud. She is taking quick, shallow breaths. “Please hurry… it’s getting harder to breathe.”

“Nearly there!” Just a bit closer, and you’ll be able to grab her hand.

That’s far enough.

Oh no, the whispers are back.

Get any closer to her, and you might fall in as well, and get stuck with her. You’ll drown and die here too. Do you want that?

“Please… I don’t… I don’t know… how long I can last…”

Why don’t you just relax and enjoy the view?

“Help me, please…”

Wouldn’t you like to watch as her shoulders and neck disappear into the wet earth?

“Please… give me your hand…”

Try to imagine the moment she understands that she is doomed, and she is forced to tilt her head back, a rapidly shrinking island in a dark brown sea, in a hopeless attempt to stay above the surface. Unable to hear anything as the mud begins to ooze into her ears. Wouldn’t you like to see that?

“I… I can’t reach you…”

Picture her pretty face as the mud greedily licks at her chin and caresses her cheeks. Think about how she will look when she finally realises, to her dismay, that you aren’t going to save her, but are instead relishing her final moments before she slips under. Doesn’t the thought of that turn you on even more?

“Please, just a little bit more…”

You can keep watching as the mud begins to engulf her upturned face, and all she can do is panic, whimpering and crying as she continues sinking, her final plea for help cut short as the mud rises up to trickle past her lips. Yes… that would be really exciting, right?

“Oh god, no… I’m… I’m so tired…”

Imagine the sight as she tries to cough and spit out the muck as it floods her mouth, but all she can do is choke and sputter uselessly, just before the ooze claims her nose, and fills her airways, violating her. And there is nothing left for her to do but to give you one final look of horror, seconds before the mud reaches her eyes and she is forced to shut them forever. Doesn’t the idea of that make you want to stick one hand inside your pants and start rubbing yourself there?

“I can’t fight much longer…”

Think about the last of her dark brown hair sinking out of sight, followed by her arm, waving and flailing about frantically, hoping that you will somehow be able to save her. Wouldn’t you like to watch her hand still reaching out towards you, scrabbling and clawing desperately, only for her struggles to weaken and fade, just before her hand finally joins the rest of her down below?

“Fuck… it’s… it’s sucking me down…”

Picture yourself staying there, watching, as all that is left of her is the roiling, churning mud, as she puts up one final, pointless struggle to escape. Think about the stream of bubbles slowly rising to the surface of the mud and bursting, and she’s entombed forever in the marsh you love so much.

“Please… I can’t do anything… I need you…”

That would be such a privilege for her, wouldn’t it? Nobody else will know what happened. It’ll be your own special secret, between the two of you.

“Get me out of here…”

You’d like to watch all that unfolding right before you, wouldn’t you?

“I can’t keep my arm up for long…”

You’d like to experience the euphoria and ecstasy from viewing such a scene, wouldn’t you?

“Please… come on… you can do it…”

Sure, you’ll be watching someone die, but she’s doomed, and you aren’t able to save her anyway without putting your own life in grave danger. Her own fate was sealed when she stepped off the lookout point and fell into the marsh. There’s nothing more you could have done. You’re not the one killing her.

“I keep sinking…”

Maybe she might even enjoy the feeling of giving you so much pleasure as she disappears, never to be seen again?

“I’m running out of time…”

All you have to do is not reach any further. There’s no use, she can’t be saved. You should just enjoy the show, and unlock this side of you that you’ve just discovered…

“I don’t want to drown in quicksand!”

A sudden scream from her interrupts your thoughts. Your attention returns to the sinking woman, just as her shoulders disappear in the gunk, and the mud begins to encircle the base of her neck.

Your hand is so close to hers. Just a couple more inches, and you’ll be able to grab hold of her. But you can also feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to give way. You might need to retreat before you end up sinking in the morass, just like her.

“No… please… grab my hand. Please don’t let me die here…” she begins crying softly, as the slurry creeps up her neck and she tilts her head back, the soft surface of the mud yielding to the slight pressure and greedily creeping towards her chin, as her hair spreads out around her face.

You’d like to watch that, wouldn’t you?

No!

You try to shut out these whispers and thoughts, terrified at the darkness within you.

You feel the ground beneath you getting softer. Do you take a gamble and try to save her, even if you end up falling in and sharing her grim fate? Or do you scramble back to safety and bring yourself to a new level of pleasure as she submerges?

No, I’m not that kind of person. I don’t get aroused watching people sinking to their deaths in quicksand, or deep mud, or whatever… No… I’m not like that at all… no…

Are you sure about that?

“No! Please… please… I’m… I’m about to go under…”

[sixgunzloaded]

Excellent second effort! And the narrative was quite well done as well. I think I enjoyed that part as much as the pic itself. It was intense and vivid and very nicely descriptive. I also really liked the 'voice in your head' approach. It captures your photographer's latent fetish awakening quite well. Bravo!
Also, feel free to reach out in my direction anytime you like as well. Though I know O.S.S. will have far more knowledge of DAZ than I ever will. lol I have it on my rig, but I can't ever get it to do what I want so I stick to Poser.

[fear359]

That was awesome! What happened to her?