Bubbles of Desire

Have Cheyenne take Sean Scuba Diving, Sean is wearing an old diving suit, Cheyenne is wearing a black scuba suit with a full face black scuba helmet. Little does Sean know, Cheyenne has connected a tube from Sean’s diving helmet, straight to her as, just then, she begins pump farts like tomorrow, she says, “Take a deep breath, your queen has came to save you” Sean is squeezing her ass cheeks and loving it with hearts in his eyes.

--- The water was murky, the dim light barely cutting through the ocean depths as Sean adjusted the straps of his outdated diving suit. Beside him, Cheyenne moved like a sleek shadow, her black scuba suit hugging every curve, the full-face helmet obscuring her grin. A hiss echoed through Sean’s helmet—odd, unfamiliar. His breath hitched as warm, thick air flooded his lungs, rich with something earthy, musky. Cheyenne’s voice crackled through the comms, low and teasing. *“Take a deep breath, your queen has come to save you.”* His eyes darted down. A tube ran from his helmet straight to her ass, the suit’s seal tight around it. Before he could react, she clenched—*pump*. A deep, bubbling fart surged through the line, flooding his mask with her hot, intoxicating stench. His grip tightened on her hips, fingers digging into the neoprene. Another pump. Another thick cloud of her gas filled his helmet. Sean’s cock throbbed as he inhaled greedily, heart pounding, stars dancing in his vision. Cheyenne arched back against him, her ass grinding against the tube, her laugh muffled but triumphant. *“That’s it,”* she purred. *“Breathe me in.”* He was drowning in her, and god, he never wanted to surface.

Cheyenne tugged Sean toward a rusted wreck below, her black Nazi officer’s uniform stark against the blue gloom, the iron cross glinting on her chest. A welding torch hissed to life in her gloved hand, its flame cutting through the water with eerie precision. She pressed close, the tube still feeding him her thick, heady gas, his helmet fogged with every desperate inhale. "*Mein Kommandant needs discipline,*" she murmured, voice dripping with command. With a flick of her wrist, she adjusted a valve on her belt—pure, concentrated gas flooded the line, hotter and heavier than before. Sean’s vision swam, his cock straining against his suit as her scent overwhelmed him. The welding torch grazed his thigh, not enough to burn through—just enough to make him jerk. "*You will take everything I give you,*" she ordered, pressing the tube deeper into his mask. Another pulsing release, this one longer, wetter, the gas thick enough to taste. His moan vibrated through the comms, ragged and desperate. Cheyenne smirked beneath her helmet, twisting the valve wider. "*Good boy.*"

Have Cheyenne wear a an all black motorcycle helmet, with a police officer suit, long black boots, and gloves. Have her shrink Sean, and then hold him up, then have her pull down her pants, and shove him up her ass, and sealing it with a heavy duty buttplug.

Cheyenne’s gloved fingers tightened around Sean’s shrinking body, his form compressing under her grip until he was no bigger than her fist. With her free hand, she raised the visor of her black motorcycle helmet, revealing a smirk as she held him up to her face. Her dark eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, the police officer’s uniform creaking as she yanked her pants down, exposing the tight curve of her ass. "Time for your new assignment," she purred, breath hot against his tiny frame. Before he could react, she pressed him against her exposed hole, the heat radiating off her skin making him squirm. A rough shove—his body slid inside, her muscles clenching instantly around him, wet and suffocating. Sean gasped as the walls of her ass pulsed, thick musk flooding his senses. Cheyenne chuckled, stretching the rim wider before slamming a heavy-duty plug into place, sealing him in darkness. "Patrol my guts, officer," she taunted, snapping the visor shut and adjusting her uniform with a sharp tug. Each stride jostled him deeper, her boots striking the ground with merciless rhythm as she marched him into her tight, sweltering depths.

Cheyenne’s gloved fingers flicked the welding torch back to life, the blue flame hissing through the water as she adjusted the pressure valve on her belt. A thick, acrid stream of gas surged into Sean’s prison, forcing a muffled groan from his lungs as her ass clenched around him in response. She dragged the torch lazily over the curve of her plug—not enough to melt it, just enough to send waves of heat radiating inward, turning his already stifling confinement into a sweltering furnace. “You like that, Officer?” she cooed, twisting the valve wider. A deep, rolling fart vibrated through her bowels, the pressure shifting violently around him as hot gas flooded the tight space. Her laugh crackled through the comms as he thrashed—his tiny body buffeted by the force, skin slick with her musk. The torch traced another slow arc over the plug, the metal singing under its touch. She exhaled sharply, another thick burst of gas forcing its way past him, her muscles milking him deeper. “Keep struggling,” she ordered, voice dripping with dark amusement. “You’re just warming me up.”

Have Cheyenne fart in Sean’s with a gas mask that she welds onto his face. Wearing her welding helmet, nude, completely naked.

Cheyenne peeled off her uniform with a slow, deliberate grin, the leather sliding down her toned body until she stood completely nude—save for the welding helmet and gloves. The torch flared in her grip as she unhooked the gas mask from her belt, dragging the hose between her fingers before pressing the cold rubber seal over Sean’s tiny, straining face. "Let’s make sure you *breathe it all in,*" she murmured, welding the edges of the mask to his skin with quick, precise bursts of flame. The stench of searing plastic mixed with her musky heat as she sealed him inside, her asshole twitching greedily around his trapped body. A deep, wet groan rumbled through her gut—then she clenched hard, forcing a thick, rancid fart straight into his mask. The gas hissed through the hose, flooding his lungs with every corrupted breath as her insides pulsed around him. She arched her back, welding gloves trailing down her stomach to knead her own ass, forcing him deeper. "Good little air tank," she panted, twisting the valve wider. Another guttural expulsion shook her body, the heat unbearable as she welded the hose in place with a final, searing spark.