In Death Valley

From Zabriskie Point at twilight, she surveys the darkening land before her, plotting a course through the badlands and dry falls that will bring her to Funeral Valley and the life-giving moisture that lies at its far end. A pair of parthenogenic lizards are at her feet, one female grasping another in a mating pose, and she smiles warmly at them. A passage by day would seem easier; the sunlight would clearly show the landmarks and trails she must follow. But the same sunlight would mean certain death: dehydration would overtake her before she could reach her needed moisture.

A passage by night is all that is possible, though it, too, is fraught with dangers. The varied creatures who lurk in sand or amid rocks lie in wait to take their nourishments and their pleasures from those who would traverse their valley. She knows them all, and knows as well whose onslaughts she can fend off, whose she can withstand, and whose she must avoid at all costs, and she chooses her path anticipating where each will be this moonless night. As the last rays of the sun cast their long shadows across the dunes, she leaves the Point, her course emblazoned in her mind, and strides purposely into the rising darkness.

As she starts across the dunes below the point, her naked beauty is clearly seen in the twilight. The jet black of her mane, flowing down to the small of her back, is set against the alabaster of her skin, and the contrast is echoed between her hips. Her emerald eyes and scarlet lips offer the only color in the stark light of sunset on this desert. She reaches the first pass through the badlands in complete darkness, and undertakes the climb depending solely on memory and touch.

Her passage has ben uneventful as she enters the last sandy pass through the Badlands before gaining the level ground of Funeral Valley, but here her first step brings an unexpected pang of pain. Her dark blood flows from the wound in her sole onto the shard of black, glassy obsidian that has cut her. Her next step delivers a matching wound to her other foot, and she realizes she has entered a trap laid in her only access to the Valley. The sand is littered with shattered fragments of this volcanic glass from a distant site to slice at her feet and slow her progress so that she might be captured. In desperation she speeds through the pass, ignoring the myriad cuts inflicted on her feet and the dripping of her scarlet blood into the dry sand.

She passes through the shard field and safely enters the valley, pausing for a moment to regain her breath. Only then is the trap sprung: the sand flies up around her and two talon-like claws grasp her ankles, pulling her legs from beneath her. As she falls to her back, two more seize her wrists, and her limbs are stretched outward and downward to arch her body atop the dry scaly belly of the reptilian beast that laid in wait. His forked tongue wanders over her naked flesh, tasting its sweetness and lusting after its moisture, and settles on each of her nipples in turn, the forks twisting round them and squeezing out a few drops of fluid to whet his appetite. The tongue, now fully extended, twines a few coils around her throat while the tip glides over her, separating her labia and wraps tightly around her clitoris, forcing her vulva to flood with her fluids.

The coils tighten around her neck, forcing her to gasp for breath, and the beast thrusts his scaled tail between her blood-red lips. A spongy organ swells out of the tip and fills her mouth, soaking up the vital moisture within. She feels the beast's excitement as his pores swell and spew forth a fetid brown oil that covers his belly and clings to her back. She feels the roughness of his bifid penis rising erect against her outspread thighs and then the sudden pain as he drives it into both of her nether holes at once. His body shudders at the tightness of her around his dual organ, and his excitement mounts as the soft tissue within his member forces itself deeper into her to draw out all her fluids.

She curses herself for her carelessness and reconciles herself to this certain death. But she will have at least a last pleasure before she expires in his clutch. She sucks frantically at his tail and wildly forces her hips up and down to stroke herself with his organ, seeking a final, body-rending orgasm for her death. Her passion drives the beast into a frenzy of his own, her movements forcing more and more of the vile fluids from his scaly pores. As her body explodes in spasms of pleasure and pain, his gives an earth-shaking shudder and then falls limp. His claws loosen their grip as his penetrating organs shrivel and withdraw form her orifices and his now-flaccid tongue falls from her throat.

She crawls from the lifeless shell of her oppressor and rests briefly to regain her strength; there is still sufficient darkness for her to gain the far end of the valley. As she reaches the small water hole and starts to drink, a lion, a pantero negro from the sierra, approaches her prone form and gently licks the wounds on her soles. He smells the foul odor of the reptilian on her body and washes her, cleansing every inch of her tortured flesh with his rough but comforting tongue. Supine now, she smiles and opens her arms and legs to receive the lover she had risked her life to see once again.