Dunked: Harmony

Harmony keeps that fuck-me stance even when the rope bites. She’s slung face-down, ass high, a spreader bar locking her ankles wide. I drive her shoulders down until the cables sing, then crank the winch until only her toes kiss the floor. The breast ropes bulge tight around those heavy tits, turning pale flesh purple. She swings a little when she breathes. That’s when the water hits. A full dunk, held under until the bubbles stop. I pull her up spluttering, let her gasp once, then drop her again. The third time her eyes roll and the gag leaks drool into the bucket. Her nipples look like they could cut glass through the wet rope. Every yank on the line jerks her tits harder. She moans like she’s begging for the next plunge. The water’s cold; the pain is hot. I leave her dangling, breasts bound, cunt dripping, long after the last bubble pops.