pressing up against the curve of the float, desperate for more pressure, more friction. But the float wouldn’t give it. It bounced. It teased. It kept her suspended and frustrated. That was the kink. Pinned in place, suctioned in sweat…
Someone—maybe a woman, masked in a black dive hood—strapped a breathing regulator between her lips. The hiss of compressed air filled her ears. Her pulse quickened. Her hands curled. The scuba domme leaned over her, pressing a gloved finger between…
She arrived just after dusk—sweating already in the heat of the eternal pool. The water shimmered, endless and warm, glowing like liquid honey under the stars. wearing a red micro-bikini so small it barely qualified as swimwear, the fabric sheer…
The wand pressed to your temple, and something crackled behind your eyes. Static. White noise. Then— YOU. For a split second, your real name—not your code—surged forward. Not “baby,” not “dolly,” not “version 1.9 obedient.” Just… you. A real memory.…
You woke inside the charging crib, soft restraints loosening with a gentle hiss. No dreams—just warmth. The kind that leaves your brain fogged and your body humming. As your eyes blinked open, the crib recognized your gaze. “Good morning, little…
pressing up against the curve of the float, desperate for more pressure, more friction. But the float wouldn’t give it. It bounced. It teased. It kept her suspended and frustrated. That was the kink. Pinned in place, suctioned in sweat…
Someone—maybe a woman, masked in a black dive hood—strapped a breathing regulator between her lips. The hiss of compressed air filled her ears. Her pulse quickened. Her hands curled. The scuba domme leaned over her, pressing a gloved finger between…
She arrived just after dusk—sweating already in the heat of the eternal pool. The water shimmered, endless and warm, glowing like liquid honey under the stars. wearing a red micro-bikini so small it barely qualified as swimwear, the fabric sheer…
The wand pressed to your temple, and something crackled behind your eyes. Static. White noise. Then— YOU. For a split second, your real name—not your code—surged forward. Not “baby,” not “dolly,” not “version 1.9 obedient.” Just… you. A real memory.…
You woke inside the charging crib, soft restraints loosening with a gentle hiss. No dreams—just warmth. The kind that leaves your brain fogged and your body humming. As your eyes blinked open, the crib recognized your gaze. “Good morning, little…