Augustina wasn't having a good time. She knew better than to expect to make friends here, but the snubbing was total right from the start, and she knew why. She caught on fast that her slinky club wear wasn't making her any friends among the chic but casual of the girls she was already thinking of as “the real models”. There wasn't even a man here to impress – which was weird, honestly. The lady in the purple goth gear didn't look like anyone with a sense of fashion. Then, clearly she didn't either.
As the various competitors branched out to explore the candy jungle, Augustina went her own way, looking to escape the sidelong glances of the other girls. Not the hate she was used to when she turned men's heads and their girls shot daggers at her, but a withering dismissal that threatened to get her tearing up. She didn't belong here. She rubbed her face, moving further into the weird display room. She knelt, plucking some rubbery grass and tasting it. Gummy grass. Who would waste money on this kind of crap? She adjusted her skirt, trying to pull it a little lower on her thighs without making her cleavage pop out even more. It was a delicate balance, and she cursed again her dress, her friends insistence she looked amazing, and every choice she had ever made leading up to this moment. It was then that she saw some orange figures, moving stealthily in the candy cane reeds across a chocolate river. She whistled a low tone of confused surprise as she repeated the sight in her mind, imagining trying to tell her friends. “Sure, it was then I realized a pumpkin was stalking me in the candy canes, across the chocolate river.”
Shaking her head, she moved towards the rivers bank, stepping carefully in her heels, hiking her skirt a few inches to free her from the tiny steps the tight fitting minidress required. “Hello?” she called to the other side, nervously. She felt watched. Looking around, she saw that at least a few of the other contestants were within eyesight, if not easy calling distance. This place was BIG. Stepping forward as she looked at the nearest contestant, the one with the red hair, Agustina put a foot wrong and stumbled towards the river with a yelp, twisting and falling on her ass with a busty jiggle her fiance would have loved. Looking down, she let out a low sob... she was covered in chocolate, on her ass in a pit of what looked like brownie batter along the riverside. She raised a hand to her face, smearing chocolate on it as she tried to stifle her sobs. He would be so disappointed in her, he was so sure she'd be getting the prize and the money, and they needed it so bad... now she looked like a fucking hooker covered in shit! She picked up a clump of chocolate and flung it with a cry, getting her feet under her to flee this disaster once and for all.
She wasn't fleeing though. She was stuck. Her legs sank deep as she stood, leaving her standing in a pool of brownie batter, her chest heaving, makeup and chocolate smeared on her face. There was literally no possible way this day could get worse. Absently she ran a hand through her hair, ruining a very expensive hairdo with a smear of sticky chocolate, and she nearly screamed again. How much money had she wasted on this? How could she face ANYONE! She felt the sobs coming again, and this time she made no attempt to stop them, plopping back onto her ass in the chocolate and bawling. The shake of her tits on landing made her think of her fiance again – if he was here he'd see the funny side. He'd love her, coated in chocolate in a sexy dress by the river, bouncing with every fall. He wasn't here though, and she wasn't about to let him ruin a good sulk.
Cherry had seen her and was heading her way, and Augustina tried to clean up, cursing her chocolate coated hands. Sitting down had been a bad idea she realized, as she tried to stand and only pushed her hands deep into the gooey muck her ass was slowly sinking into. She tried to smile bashfully at the approaching woman, who looked as concerned as a goddess could look over a guttersnipe in a cocktail dress. “Stop it.” she told herself wearily. “You got here too.” It wasn't convincing, but she didn't feel like bawling anymore. She felt like getting help. “Hey!” she called out to the other model. “I think I'm stuck!”
The other woman was hesitating a few yards out, chocolate oozing along her shoes. That was was weird – Augustina had walked there not ten minutes ago, and it had been dry as a desert. As Augustina tried to stand again, she suddenly sank deeper, almost to her chest. Deep beneath, she felt movement.... like a tide of chocolate, tugging at her. Growing stronger. “I'm sinking deeper!” she called out “I think I need help!”. Other ladies were beginning to gather, watching her with various degrees of sympathy. Veronica and Micky both openly smirked at the trapped latina, and she felt herself hardening, her spine straightening. What kind of a bitch would smirk at her now, in this mess? She wished she could watch how fast those lumberjacks would sink in this mess! At least being tiny was an advantage here. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, the purple goth lady (Willamina Wonkette was it?) was standing in front of the gathered girls, jabbing her cane into the chocolate sodden ground.
“Can't get to her – the chocolate is making the ground unstable. Does that sometimes. We'll just have to leave her and come back for her later!” Willamina tossed a smile her way, and Augustina didn't like the look of it at all. “Wait you can't, something is pulling me under! Like an undertow!” she called out. She'd swum in the ocean as a kid, and she had been so scared by the lecture on undertows that she had almost entirely avoided oceans since. “It's pulling me down!” It was too, she could feel it getting stronger, her breasts nestling into the chocolate, buoyant on the thick goo.
The redhead took a step forward, and sunk into the moist ground almost to her calf, yanking the leg free with difficulty. “We can't just leave her there, are you crazy?” she yelled at the purple clad hostess, who paid her little mind as she watched Augustina sink. “Welll....” drawled Willamina. “If there's a current, she's probably near one of the inflows that suck the chocolate out to be processed. Probably she will end up in one of the pipes.” As Augustina began to process this, Willamina winked at her.
“What do you mean in a pipe!” Augustina shouted, more shrilly than she intended. He feet were kicking in what felt like almost pure chocolate now, a river of it running beneath her, pulling her down. She flailed at the edges of the pit (quicksand I'm in quicksand) she thought fearfully, clawing for some kind of purchase. Buoyant or not, her tits were sliding beneath the chocolate, and her fighting was just making the pit more liquid, the suction increasing. Being tiny wasn't great at all with a current growing around her, making her bob as she struggled to get towards something solid, crying out in fear as the thickness around her began to dissipate into a deep sucking sensation. The other women were all yelling at the hostess now, even Micky and Veronica worried for her. Augustina felt the resistance of the material around her give way, and her mouth went under, coming up with a delicious mouthful of chocolate. It was terrifying. “HELP!!” She shouted, drawing the wide eyes of the assembled models her way. They didn't look helpful. The looked scared, and useless. The hostess looked... the hostess looked like her fiance did when he saw her tits bounce. The hostess was as frightening as this chocolate soup. “ROPE!!” she shouted. There had to be some... licorice or something!
Augustina clawed to keep her head up, trying to breathe steady. Several girls had run to find some rope, while the hostess lectured the others. Augustina, it appeared, would be ducked under for a few minutes, then pop out and be cleaned up and waiting at the end of the tour. Augustina would be fine, and well compensated for her troubles. Augustina would probably have fun. Augustina spit chocolate, trying to howl not to trust the hostess. She'd seen her eyes, smoldering and crazy and mocking, and she knew if she went under there was no pleasant cleanup and wait in a lounge. She was fighting for her life, kicking as strong as she could against the current. Twice now she had bobbed entirely under, coming up dripping chocolate down her face. She kicked as hard as she could, rising above the chocolate pool like a mermaid, fudge rolling down her body as she shouted again “HELP!!”, then crashed back down, going under. She tried to breathe, tried to claw her way back. She could feel the pull increasing as she dipped down, feel her tight dress flutter and pull between her legs. With a desperate display of strength, she broke through again, gasping before her mouth went under. “Just go under!” Called the hostess, smiling a chilling smile, just for her. Why should this random woman want her dead? Why her? Her muscles burned as she scanned the horizon, watching women struggling to drag candy canes, thin licorice ropes, or nothing at all... and she knew none of them would be back in time. She was going under. She tried for a moment to believe in the exit from the tube, being cleaned by careful hands, set up in a comfy chair... As her muscles began to give out, she went back to what had started the whole crisis, and began sobbing. Other woman watched her, stricken, as she began to slide under. Her eyes, wet with tears and blurry, caught Mickey watching her sink with horror. It was almost comforting, knowing she had wiped the smirk away. It didn't comfort for long, as she slipped beneath the surface, and realized she didn't have it in her to rise again.
She slid into a darkness deeper than she could have imagined, thick and clinging, then she banged into something. There WAS a tube, but as she bumped against it she realized, to her horror, the intake was blocked by a screen. She hadn't realized how much she was, despite her doubt, counting on that happy ending the hostess had promised. Unable to drag herself away from the powerful suction, she scrabbled at the screen, looking for a door, some way in. She needed to get through, she needed air, she needed it 30 seconds ago. As she found a latch, and the padlock sealing it, she opened her mouth to scream, chocolate filling it before a sound could escape. She gagged on the sweet sludge, her mind filled with nothing but the shrill and ceaseless demand for air. She bucked once, then twice, then she stilled, sprawled across the intake like a broken doll... though try as they might, none of the many eyes watching could get a camera to pick her up, so deep in the viscous dark.