Finally trying my hand at AI quicksand images

[GTaggert]

 
Angela shuddered as she confronted the import of what she was about to do… of what she knew that she must do. The elements would have her wait interminably for the inevitable effects of exposure to eventually do her in, while starvation and thirst would have her linger at the surface of the quicksand for days or even weeks while she wasted away in their pitiless grip… but she would not submit to their ravages. Neither would she become a meal for the jaws of a rapacious predator as it ripped her to pieces, nor a target for the claws and stings of attacking insects as they swarmed her face, nor a home for invading microbes as they surreptitiously gained entry to her body and consumed her from within. She would not go to her doom in a struggling, screaming submersion of her will to that of either her fetish or the quicksand… instead, she would meet her fate in her own way, under her own control, and by her own hands… the quicksand and her secret fetish for it be damned.
 

WOW! This is a great story!

[JSample]

WOW! This is a great story!

Thank you. Glad you enjoyed it.

[JSample]

 
                                        "HOMECOMING"

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She felt herself floating dimly between dreaming and wakefulness as her breathing became more erratic, while the cold mud stole silently up the sides of her upturned face, merging with her remaining tears as it prepared at last to claim her as its own. Sarah barely noticed. Her receding thoughts were already journeying elsewhere. Perhaps she really was dreaming after all, she wondered hazily as endless seconds passed in stillness. Yes, that must be it. She was dreaming. In a moment she would wake up, she imagined as she exhaled softly, and all of this –– the “dare spot,” the terror, the hopelessness –– would have been only a dream. That would be nice. She exhaled once more. Now a new memory emerged, rising tenderly from her subconscious as her body hung motionless, cradled within the bosom of the quicksand. Or was it another dream? She could no longer tell the difference. She felt herself drifting away as her vision began to fade, while a new scene slowly opened within her mind...

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She was safe at home in her own bed, snuggled with her favorite stuffed animals, her sheets and quilt wrapped warmly and reassuringly around her. She had always felt most secure when she was burrowed deep beneath her covers, with only a small opening remaining at her pillow through which she could breathe comfortably while she slumbered. But she couldn't drift off to sleep just yet; she had to be ready to go. She couldn't slip away without first being gently tucked in, without saying her Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, without receiving her goodnight kiss, without her bedside lamp being switched off for the night. All these things had to happen first, and only then would she at last be ready. And when the time finally came, all that remained for little Sarah to do was to close her eyes and cry out for her...

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                                          “MOMMY!––”


(From my story "Homecoming - A Narrative Adaptation of the MPV Video 'Just a Little Further,' Starring Sarah Michelle." No photos or images from any source, whether from MPV or of Sarah Michelle herself, were used to generate these images; they all originated solely from written descriptions of her character's general appearance in the video and from text prompts.)
 

[JSample]

 
                                        "THE PROMISE"

There was an earthquake.

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No… not an earthquake; it had only seemed to her to have been so. Angela shuddered as a jolt of electricity surged through the epicenter of her being, her diaphragm abruptly spasming to life and reflexively inhaling a lungful of air deep into her chest. Wha…? she murmured amid her confusion as she sensed that she was now somehow in the light, its overwhelming brilliance forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut against it. Wait… I… I have… eyes? Her lungs continued drawing in air urgently and imperatively, and she felt the need to cough to clear out something that was partially blocking her windpipe. How… how am I… breathing… again? What’s… happening? Where…? she wondered hazily as her consciousness gradually reasserted itself, along with her sense of physical awareness. A dense heaviness encompassed her chest, forcing her lungs to battle to fill themselves against its weight, and she was as yet unable to move her arms or legs. There was warmth accompanying the light, bathing her face soothingly under its tender caress, and, while she couldn’t be sure, she had the distinct impression that she had just been… kissed.

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There was a presence nearby, intimately so, she realized, its arm wrapped tightly around her chest as it held her body close in its embrace. Something interposed itself between her face and the intense brightness above her, eclipsing the light as she hesitantly began to open her eyes. She found herself staring into a human face, its features washed out and obscured by the intensity of the glare that radiated around it like a halo. “You… you…” she spluttered weakly as she beheld its countenance, for a moment certain that she was looking into her grandfather’s eyes… and then clouds passed before the afternoon sun, dimming its light as her vision continued to clear. The image shifted subtly before her, and she found that she was gazing at a face not from her past… but from her present. “You…”

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“Yes,” Jason smiled back at her, gently wiping the remaining muck and ooze away from her face, “I promised.”


(From my story "'The Girl' (Part 5): Angela's Purgatory.")