Underwater: Carly

Carly and Chanta have played before but not like this. Carly sits bound in the wicker chair, wrists and ankles lashed tight. Chanta grabs her hair, forces her under, holds her down until the bubbles thin and the body jerks, then yanks her up gasping. A thin crop cracks across her wet tits again and again. She gasps, cries, but the shock hits her cunt next—metal prongs driven inside her, voltage snapping sharp. The water breaks over her again while she comes, shaking the chair, squirting into the tub. She is pulled out dripping, led across the floor, wrists and ankles re-tied so she kneels inside the clear tank like a live exhibit. Chanta slides in behind her, works a strap-on deep, fucks her slow and steady while the water level rises past her shoulders. Carly's breath gets short, ragged. Chanta dips lower, mouth finding the swollen clit floating in the water, sucking hard while she thrusts. The tank is nearly full. They drop together, snorkels in place, straps secured. Chanta’s hands move fast under the surface, looping rope, cinching Carly’s wrists to her ankles until she’s bowed in a strict hogtie, tits pressed to the glass bottom. The vibrator comes on underwater, pressed tight to Carly’s cunt, buzzing relentless while Chanta watches her shake and twist, breath hissing through the tube, orgasm tearing through her in silence.