Indica Fetish found herself at the bottom of the practice pool. Heavy SCUBA weights cinched her chest and thighs, pinning her more firmly than any lover ever had, and her own breath fogged the inside of her mask as she watched Onyx Kim’s approach—a vision in bl*ck rubber and neon yellow fins, hair streaming wild in the current, eyes merciless and smiling.

The corn on the cob dildo—gleaming bl*e, knobbled, and unexpectedly regal in its harness—looked more like a weapon than an implement of pleasure, and Onyx Kim wielded it with the easy authority of someone accustomed to both inflicting and receiving every flavor of humiliation. With a lazy, predatory grace, Kim straddled Indica’s hips, fastening her even more immovably to the pool floor, and brought the latex c*ck into view. Indica’s eyes widened behind her goggles, and she gave a mock-pleading shake of her head, though they both knew she’d been dy*ng for this since Kim had first pulled the corn from her duffel and announced, “Tonight, you’re going to take the whole cob.”

But before the literal penetration commenced, Onyx Kim unscrewed a compartment in the base of the corn and revealed a tiny, waterproof scroll. Through her regulator, Indica started to giggle, the bubbles erupting in a frantic stream as she recalled her last words on the surface: “The code is on the corn!” Kim arched an eyebrow and, with a flourish, unrolled the scroll and angled it toward Indica’s face. The writing was minuscule, but even underwater, Indica could read the line: “Solve this, and you get to come up for air.”

Now, Onyx Kim pressed the tip of the dildo against Indica’s slick, pulsing opening, hovering just at the threshold, waiting for Indica to either submit or solve the puzzle. Indica’s mind raced, oxygen already b*rning low, but the teasing was exquisite, sharper than the need for breath itself.

The longer Indica hesitated, the more playful—and cruel—Onyx Kim became, gently rocking the corn head against Indica’s clit, then withdrawing, then returning, all while watching the clock as if timing an endurance test. Indica’s moans, stifled by the mouthpiece, vibrated through her entire body.

Only when Indica, panting and desperate, finally deciphered the code—an anagram that spelled SEED—did Onyx Kim reward her, plunging the corn inside with a powerful, triumphant thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, sweet as the ache that preceded it, and Indica’s hands, though bound, trembled with gratitude and need.

Onyx Kim leaned in until their masks bumped. “What’s the safe word?” she teased, voice muffled by bubbles.

Indica grinned, the answer already wet on her tongue.

XOXOXO

Kelli

Snorkel Gear Swimming Bathtub Fetish Aquaphilias- indica and Onyx- She Gets Strapped Underwater on SCUBA by Sexy Asian Domme with C4s.com