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Sibling Rivalry Exploited (Sisters)
(c) Pinglis, 2015. Not to be reproduced without permission.
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Notes to the reader.
Anyone who has experience of being underwater wearing a mask knows that the peripheral vision of the wearer is severely limited. In other words, a diver can only really see what is directly in front of them at any one time.
This story is written with ‘omniscient viewpoints’ – that is, the story may be told from the perspective of the different characters (or narrator) all within a short space. This is not a usual practice for short stories as it can be confusing. However, for the believability of describing what a diver may see underwater, especially when stressed in a perilous situation, it is used here.
Otherwise, this is a fictional story of jealousy, revenge, betrayal and the ‘hit man’
Part of a series of assassin-related stories. Some feature a hit man, some feature a hit woman.
Contains scuba, scuba fighting, forced scuba drowning (not overly graphic), scuba erotica.
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The man sat quietly in the empty cabin of the chartered flying boat that was taking him to the location for his latest contract, put down his drink and opened the dossier on the job again. His quarry were two sisters who were competitive to the point of stupidity and who had a common problem – an absolute jealousy of others but particularly of each other.
They had another common interest – scuba diving – and this is why the man had been chosen.
From reading the material, the man discovered that the women were both in their twenties and had inherited stocks and influential positions of power in their late father’s pharmaceutical business. Far too much money and power for a pair of spoilt children turned adult to get through in one lifetime but they tried their best to spend their way through the company’s substantial profits all the same. They had also skippered a few high profile company deals of late through meddling in boardroom affairs and, in short, some very senior company people were getting agitated.
What the sisters couldn’t buy with the money, they bought with the power or their bodies – they were both toned from the gym and, although not stunning, they would turn most men’s heads and so flings and sexual persuasions were easy to come by. They also were adept at pleasing men, if it meant that they could get something useful out of it. However, one of the sisters, Ariel, had recently fell in love with a guy from a high profile rock band but it ended badly – they guy had just left her a note one day and left – and she had fallen apart for a short time. Her sister, Imogen, had secretly monopolized on his period by undermining her standing in her father’s business – a ruse to obtain increasing power and to subdue Ariel’s claim on the family fortune.
None of the information was as useful as what was in an envelope in the back of the dossier. He thoughtfully thumbed through the items; these were going to be pivotal to the success of his plan and he relaxed back into his seat and sipped his drink again.
He was not really the philosophical sort but it did occur to him that, sometimes, the business of eliminating people was a tricky one and sometimes, well, it just took care of itself. Often, the most difficult part of his job was avoiding alerting the authorities to foul play and the key to avoiding arousing those suspicions was to take care of the people who noticed the most and ensure that they noticed the least. The cab drivers, the door men of hotels, bar tenders, fishermen – they could always provide information on his targets, and his, final movements and that could complicate matters unnecessarily. Fortunately, these people often earned tiny amounts of money to support loved ones and a sizable bundle of cash shoved in a top pocket, along with an unveiled threat towards their families, worked wonders in allowing them to reconsider their observations.
Unusually, for this job, most of the covering of tracks work was going to be taken care of by his employers so the man just had to do his bit. And his bit, as he thought about the items in the back of the dossier, might just take care of itself, too. He felt the plane start to descend and he closed his eyes.
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Ariel and Imogen were drinking lunchtime spritzers on the deck of their yacht when the man came aboard. It was an unusually civil period as they had been quarreling loudly on the yacht for the last 10 days of their traditional Caribbean break and last evening had been no exception with the crew having to intervene in a drunken squabble which saw Imogen warning Ariel that if she did not sort herself out soon, the company board would be taking action against her as she beyond becoming a liability.
Right now, however, they both ceased hostilities and eyed the man who had immediately got to work and was checking the scuba equipment on the dive platform below. Imogen snapped her fingers to one of the crew who hurried over, not wishing to annoy her employer.
“Who is that?” asked Imogen sharply.
“It’s your replacement dive master for today, Miss.”
“Where is our usual master?,” inquired Imogen.
“Ill, Miss – an ear infection, I believe. This man has been flown in especially, and comes highly recommended.”
Imogen eyed the man’s torso – a fantastic six pack then her gaze surveyed his strong arms and thighs, a well defined chin and a high cheek bones. She smiled suggestively when the man looked up and her and grinned, and then she looked at her sister to see if she had also taken an interest. A pang of annoyance shot through her when she saw that Ariel was looking over the top of her sunglasses at him, too.
“Tell the usual master that his services are no longer required aboard this yacht,” snapped Imogen and the crew member nodded and walked off.
The man approached the sisters and introduced himself as their dive master and that he’d be taking them to a special spot that wasn’t well known to most in the area. The yacht was already being readied to take them there and, by the time they were kitted up and he’d talked through the dive plan, they’d be over the site.
The sisters eagerly finished off their drinks and moved to the platform, with Imogen making a nuisance of herself by claiming that she needed help with her kit, just to take attention away from Ariel. But, the man deliberately flirted gently with Ariel, which he could see was annoying Imogen. He had to be careful not to overstep the mark, though – the dive had to go ahead – but the sisters had to be exactly in a right frame of mind for what he had planned.
Imogen squeezed herself into a white, tight halter necked one piece with a very high cut leg, black fluting that emphasized the lines of her body and a zip up front, which she provocatively left open to show off her medium sized, natural breasts. She strapped her yellow scuba tank on next, the red harness straps cutting down the sides of her body to meet the belt around her waist. She made sure that the man watched her as she took time to strap her knife to her toned thigh, leaning over in his direction and allowing him to look at her cleavage. She was pleased to see that she had distracted him away from Ariel even for a short few moments, especially as Ariel has also noticed and a flash of annoyance had passed over her face. Soon, her clear oval mask was over her forehead, weight belt around her waist. She smiled suggestively at the man as she slipped her white, open toed fins onto her feet, and he admired her toned legs then returned a grin.
Ariel had changed into a shiny, rubber-effect wet look bikini with a skimpy top, which struggled to contain her breasts, and boyish shorts. Thanks to the man’s hands occasionally touching her body as he assisted her in kitting up, the top largely failed to disguise her increasingly erect nipples. “The temperature must be dropping,” sneered Imogen when she them poking at the bikini material and Ariel countered with, “Actually, I think things are heating up.” They exchanged glances, Ariel clearly winning that exchange. Imogen snorted.
Soon, though, she was kitted although she couldn’t find her usual mask so she rummaged around in a chest of dive gear and donned a vintage dual pane mask that she remembered that her father’s young mistress (who Imogen despised) was rather fond of. She didn’t fail to register the sneer on her sisters face when she spat into it and cleaned the lenses. “You’re using that old thing?,” snapped Imogen, pointing to the mask. “Why not?,” responded Ariel, “it’s newer than yours.” The man then reached into the chest and pulled out a huge, vintage dive knife and handed to her. “Looks like something out of an old movie,” she commented and sniffed the sheath. It had a fabulous rubber smell, despite its age. She carefully placed it against her calf and allowed the man to tighten up the rubber straps while she studied his tight ass as he bent over.
The man stood upright and asked them to go and stand at the edge of the dive platform. The sisters obliged. He stood behind them and, in turn, turned their air on and slipped their regulators over their shoulders. Ariel was first to test hers then let it fall to her side. “It’s good,” she remarked.
Imogen grabbed hers and felt in her hand that it wasn’t the usual shape. She raised it up and turned it, regarding it suspiciously.
“Where is this old thing from? Is it safe?,” Imogen asked.
“It’s a Cyklon,” replied the man uninterestedly.
“Cyk..what? Is it safe?,” asked Imogen.
“Perfectly safe and better than the rubbish you were using before,” insisted the man.
Imogen struggled to push the mouthpiece between her lips at first as it was bigger than her usual one and sampled the air.
“Is it OK?” he asked, thinking that her lips looked fantastic around the oversized mouthpiece.
“Mmmmph…Yemmph,” she replied breathing heavily through it.
He placed his hand over it and removed it purposely from her mouth, watching her lips deform around it and leave a little trail of saliva on it. As he did this, the yacht rolled and he placed his hand on her stomach to steady himself. A brief flush of excitement ran through Imogen’s body from his touch. While he still watched her face as it flushed, she slipped her tongue out and pushed the tip into the mouthpiece then, deliberately slowly, jostled it back between her gums, all while watching the man’s eyes, which never left her mouth at any time. A few moments later, he looked deep into her eyes and then snapped out of his thoughts, reaching out to move her contents and depth gauge console to where she could find it.
The man cleared his throat.
“A few moments, please,” he requested, then moved to the back of the platform and quickly donned his large twin scuba tanks, fins, weights, knife and mask.
Imogen turned to quickly look at the man who wore his kit over a pair of black shorts which clearly showed the outline of his substantially sized semi-hard cock and thought about how good he was at using it. She then gazed at his twin tanks and wondered why he might need quite so much air. Her thoughts turned erotic and she imagined him fucking her under the water – something that she had not done before but which appealed to her.
Imogen turned her eyes and looked towards Ariel who was also watching the man kit up and appeared to be deep in thought and this caused her some more annoyance. Ariel snapped out of her trance and caught her sister looking at her and returned the gaze; they exchanged a particular look when they’d both seen something that they both desired and this was no exception.
They just couldn’t help themselves. As the man came to stand between them, he fitted a strange device to his knife holder.
“What’s that?,” asked Ariel.
“Capture noose.”
“A what?,” inquired Imogen as she put her hand over his as he held it.
The man looked at her briefly then took his hand away from hers and unclipped the object. It was constructed from a thick rod about a foot long with a diameter of a few inches. At one end, a thick cord looped out and back to the rod, then ran down a groove which ran the full length of the rod to the other end. The groove was covered. At the end of the groove was a special metal clasp with a gripper strip cut into it.
The man demonstrated how it worked to the women; he released the clasp and let the cord out then looped it over his wrist and, with one hand, pulled the cord sharply then pushed the clasp shut with his thumb.
They looked a little confused still.
“I use it for catching and restraining prey,” he remarked, then allowed it to hang down next to the outline of his penis which bulged out his shorts.
The women said nothing but looked at the rod resting near to his cock and thought about a few scenarios where both items could be used on themselves.
The man enjoyed the silence, knowing full well what the women were thinking about and it stiffened him. He hoped that the two women noticed.
He waited for a few moments then announced, “OK, let’s go. If you haven’t already – put your regulators in and hand over masks. Stride on 3.2..1…Go!”
The women fumbled their regulators in and entered the water first. He checked his watch then strode off the platform to join them in the warm turquoise water.
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After a brief check on the surface, he signaled to descend and duck dived below first. Kicking for the bottom, he rolled over to look behind him and saw the two women following closely behind, bubbles steaming from their regulators as they finned to keep up with him. He cleared his ears and they copied him then he rolled over and looked towards the bottom where the wreck lay at a depth of about 12 metres.
As the women went deeper, they saw the outline of the boat. It wasn’t big but it clearly had a recognizable bridge, two decks and a bent funnel. The wreck sat almost upright with a sizeable gash in the hull on the side they were approaching from and they wondered how it had ended up here and were a little excited about the prospect of exploring it. Previously, they’d dived on the reef, quite shallow, looking at the fish and often just following a tour line that the previous master had put out but this man clearly had a more exciting outlook. The wreck looked dangerous and interesting, not unlike the mysterious man who was leading them towards it.
The man leisurely finned towards the main deck, approximately one third of the hull length back from the bow and grabbed onto the distorted railing which ran the full length of the hull. As the women arrived, he grasped Ariel’s hand first to help her grab onto the railing, then he assisted Imogen; the current wasn’t strong but he just wanted to touch them – to keep the ball rolling.
They all paused for a moment to take in the view – the deck above them overhung a little causing a tunnel effect and light flickered in from either end. Fish circled around and it was very peaceful, only the sound of their scuba equipment and an occasional metal groan from the hull of the wreck upset the tranquility.
The man turned to the women and they arranged themselves in a circle to do his dive check. As usual, he gave the OK signal to Ariel first. When he offered the OK signal to Imogen, he delighted in her arched eyebrows in her mask, as she failed to hide her annoyance before she signaled OK back. He reached out and took Ariel’s scuba tank contents gauge and checked it then signaled OK to her and smiled around his regulator. She smiled back. The man then checked his own air gauge and looked back towards Ariel and gave the OK again.
Imogen was particularly irritated as she had pushed her breasts forward to get his attention and he’d ignored her. She huffed into her mouthpiece, let go of the railing and finned towards a doorway she’d seen towards the bow but she stopped before she got there and looked back. The man noted that she had gone but pretended to ignore her and, instead, took Ariel’s hand then finned and pulled her down, along the hull, towards the bottom. She squeezed his hand and he squeezed it back then he rolled over and ran his fingers along her cheek. Bubbles burst from her regulator as she ‘mmmm’d’ in acceptance and she responded by running her fingers up his arm. Over Ariel’s shoulder, above them, he saw Imogen’s head appear over the side of the main deck watching them. Then it disappeared again as she slid back out of view. Imagining how Imogen would be feeling, his cock hardened even more.
He let go of Ariel’s hand and moved towards the bottom, nearer to the bow. She followed slightly behind, admiring his toned thighs and butt and she felt some pangs of desire start in her stomach nd groin. She’d always found scuba diving to be erotic but today had taken a turn for the better. And this man was totally desirable – she just had to keep Imogen away from him.
‘Imogen! Where was she?’ thought Ariel and she quickly swiveled her head all around but her sister was nowhere to be seen.
She looked back to the man who appeared unperturbed by Imogen’s disappearance and she felt relaxed if he was.
The man had settled on the bottom below her and she joined him. She motioned that Imogen had gone and he shrugged touched her cheek then ran his fingertips from her lips, down her throat and to her breasts. Forgetting her sister, she reached out and ran her fingers down his chest then to his crotch, stopping at the top of his shorts. The man looked into her eyes and ran his fingers up her legs then between them, feeling the groove of her mound behind her bikini shorts. Excited bubbles burst from her regulator as she watched his eyes and she forgot about her sister and all of her problems for a moment.
But Imogen was not far away – she had moved to a different vantage point and was watching them both caressing. She bit down on her mouthpiece in anger.
The man checked his watch then signaled to Ariel to stay put for a moment. He looked around then raised his hands to signal that he didn’t know where her sister was. She grabbed at his hand, pulling him onto her, but he waggled his finger and grinned back. Then he finned upwards to where he had just noticed Imogen watching them caressing from.
Ariel looked up and watched the man ascend away, enjoying the sight of his powerful legs. She checked her air gauge and her tank registered almost full but she was not used to being alone underwater as their previous dive master stayed with them always. She found the freedom a little exciting and it made her feel adventurous.
She reached out and touched the rusty hull of the wreck, wondering why she’d never found this one before as she’d dived this area quite often. Looking up again, she watched as the man disappeared over the side of the deck, out of view, and she felt the urge to follow where his fingertips had…up her legs and into the groove of her pussy behind her shorts. She gasped a little then slid her hand inside, looking around and up, nervously, while she touched herself and pictured the man touching her from a few moments before.
“How dare he touch me? We’ve only just met,” she thought but gently rubbed her clitoris with her fingertip and exhaled with pleasure.
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The man caught up with Imogen near the bridge. She had her hands on a porthole and her head was poking inside, her long legs trailing out behind her. He finned close to her and watched for a moment – watched her rounded ass filling out that sexy suit of hers, the fluting accentuating her curves. He reached out his hand towards her but paused and his eyes followed her air hose from the first stage on top of her scuba tank, over her shoulder to where her cheek obscured it. He thought of her suggestively pushing it into her mouth when they were back on the dive platform and he thought that she’d make an interesting fuck. He moved to the other side of her and enjoyed watching the bubbles bursting from her Cyklon’s exhaust. With his hand hovering just away from her leg, it’s length accentuated by her fin, for several second then grabbed her ankle very roughly and immediately yanked her backwards towards him.
Imogen squealed with surprise as she was pulled backwards and flailed her arms as her hands lost grip on the porthole. She turned quickly to see who or what had grabbed her and she was surprised to see the man looking straight into her mask, his expression commanding. He tightened his grasp on her ankle, which hurt her a little, and she tried to pull her leg away but he was strong. He then grabbed her other ankle, very hard, and pulled her legs straight, towards him. Confused, she tried to fin away but her ankles were held tight and she struggled to free herself, wriggling her body ineffectively. When she realized that she could not free herself, she stopped struggling, and the man used his hands to pull himself along her body as if he was climbing a ladder.
She lay motionless, excited by his hands on her body. Bubbles burst from her regulator as his rough hands grabbed at her and she pushed down on his shoulders, half-heartedly, to stop him bringing his head to hers. He responded by grabbing her buttock and squeezing it hard. ‘Oh, it’s like this, is it?’ she thought as his hands moved to cover her breasts and squeeze them, causing her to exhale in excitement for a long time.
‘How things change in a day’, she thought, glad that she fired the previous dive master. She released her hands from the man’s shoulders and put them behind her back in submission and he watched, his cock stiffening even more. He looked at the shape of the shoulders with her arms drawn back, her scuba harness passing over them and down the side of her breasts. He took in the lines of her body in the gear for a few seconds, enjoying the sight; she looked exquisite.
When he brought his mask level with hers and looked into her eyes, she thought his eyes had the look of animal desire and she responded by reaching both her hands down to his shorts, lifting the material up with one hand and then sliding her fingers inside, her fingers already curled and ready to grasp him.
The man looked into Imogen’s mask, her jet black hair flowing around it, and enjoyed her green eyes staring back at him, her eyes also full of want. He thought that Imogen was a kindred spirit – probably the stronger of the two sisters – and ruthless with it given what she had done to Ariel.
His suspicion that she’d be an interesting fuck was largely confirmed. The weak push on his shoulders then her putting her hands behind her back had confirmed it. She was probably very inventive and the sort who likes to be submissive despite having a powerful position in society. He thought of fucking her when she had been tied up – another sexual interest of his – filling her pussy with his cock while her hands were tied tightly behind her waist, his hand over her mouth, feeling her tongue licking against it as sweat from her face ran over his fingers. She’d be swearing against his hand, her sounds muffled, demanding that he ‘fuck her harder.’
Her eyes watched as the man opposite her zoned out for a moment. She could tell that he was thinking about fucking her and it excited her a little more. She stroked his cock and was impressed by its apparent size in her hand. Her thoughts turned to him doing her face down from behind. Rough. Quick. Her left feeling unsatisfied and dwelling on it for days, until the next time she’d let him do it to her.
She wanted him, no doubt, he could see it. But, he couldn’t quite determine if it was because she found him attractive, or to get one up on her sister or because she was used to getting what she wanted. No matter, really, he thought. They weren’t going to fall in love and get married – he had a job to do.
He ran his finger tips down her one piece and between her legs while she watched his eyes. They rolled up and closed for a few seconds when he pinched her clitoris through the fabric and he watched her lips purse around the regulator mouthpiece as she bit down on it in pleasure. He felt her hand continue to work inside his shorts, her other hand outside, squeezing his balls.
She opened her eyes again. When they refocused on his, they were filled with desperate want.
The man smiled to her and moved away, much to her annoyance, her hand slipping out of his shorts. She snarled a little around her mouthpiece then played long. He beckoned her to come inside the wreck with him. She hesitated at first, as her old master had warned her about such things without a safety line but he seemed to know what he was doing, so she kicked her fins and followed into the murk.
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Ariel checked her contents again. Still plenty of air but he had been away for what seemed to be a long time now. She looked through the hatch where he had told her to stay and saw something glinting inside, on the floor. She looked up and around again but saw nothing, not even bubbles except her own, and she moved towards the hatch, hanging on the plate of the hull either side. The object was close, close enough to slip inside and grab but she hesitated as, like Imogen, she’d been warned about going into wrecks. It didn’t take long to kick up silt and she would be in a blackout, not knowing where to go next, and without a line, it could be fatal. Still, if she got the object, perhaps it would better whatever her sister found on the dive and she could get one up on her. She finned cautiously inside.
The object was a box, like a cigar box but bigger. It looked quite new and it had mirrored glass items stuck to it. “What the fuck?,” she thought as she reached out to it. Picking it up and cocking her head to one side as she regarded it. She turned it over then back upright again. Then she opened the lid.
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Imogen followed the man inside. He paused at the back of the bridge, at the top of a rusty staircase, and looked back. She went to swim down the staircase but he grabbed her arm and stopped her. Annoyed, she looked into his eyes and tried to free her arm. The man spread his fingers, twice, indicating that he had no flashlight / torch and she understood. But she could see weak natural light filtering up from below so she thought it was OK. Patronizingly, she patted his shorts, then finned downwards. As her legs kicked, he released her arm and then smiled after her as she finned down into the hull.
‘That’s my girl,’ he thought.
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Ariel’s eyes widened as she saw the first photograph, face up in the box. It was her ex – the one who had hurt her – leaving Ariel’s apartment and it looked like the sort of photo that private investigators took. But what was his photo doing here? She tipped the box over and saw more photos float down out of it and, dropping the box, grabbed them before they dispersed. The second photo was of Imogen, waiting at a table in a restaurant – she was dressed very sexily in a revealing black number – looking very slightly bored. The next photo showed Imogen and her ex sitting at the table together, intimately toasting each other with champagne. The next photo showed them leaving the restaurant together and the next photo showed them going into Imogen’s apartment. Ariel paused breathing as she flicked through the rest. Imogen and her ex fucking… her sucking him. Different positions. His body on hers. Him inside her. And, in the last photo, Imogen appeared to be looking right into the camera as her ex arched his back, presumably, coming inside her.
Her expression Ariel had seen before – each and every time that Imogen decided that she was going to take what Ariel had.
Her heart pounded and thoughts raced.
Rage built inside her, like nothing she had ever felt before.
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Imogen slid down the stairwell, pulling herself along via the rails but paused at the bottom. To the right was a corridor but it looked very dark. Ahead was a bulkhead with a door in it – ajar. Beyond it was a platform with rusted railings around it. She grabbed the doorway sides and pulled herself inside, excited. She’d never been inside a wreck before and she wished she had brought a torch but adrenaline flowed through her body which dulled her decision making processes.
She finned to the railing and grabbed onto it. Below, almost in the centre of the room was a diver, kneeling, with their back to her. From the short, bright red hair, she guessed it was her sister but what was she doing in here? Imogen turned and pulled herself down a short staircase, her legs folded vertically behind her, then held her breath and sneaked up on the diver, approaching just slightly above her and looking over her shoulder. The diver was looking though something that she’d found. A number of things. Then she noticed that they were the photos. And she instantly recognized them as the ones she’d had one of the company investigators take of her and her Ariel’s ex. She’d taken the ones of them fucking as a trophy. She’d done it because Ariel had something she hadn’t and wanted something in her arsenal if she wanted to hurt her sister but when Ariel had gone off the rails, she’d felt some compassion and disposed of them, hoping that they would never be discovered.
But here they were and in her sister’s hands. Her heart sank and she felt a little nauseous.
Ariel’s rage was manifested by short intakes of air then bubbles from her regulator. Her chest rose and sank quickly as she looked around, back to the hatch where she came in and then behind her. Nothing. Then she looked over her other shoulder and saw her sister, hovering there, watching her.
Her fucking sister.
At first, Ariel was surprised but then she realized that it must have been Imogen that planted the photos.
Why else would she be here now?
An immediate desire to kill her overtook any other thoughts that she had.
Ariel did not even register the look of shame on Imogen’s face as she was already pushing off the bottom towards her sister who was already holding her hands out in defense.
Ariel grabbed towards Imogen’s face, but Imogen grabbed her wrists and they wrestled together. Ariel tried to roll her sister over, underneath her and succeeded, pushing her sister towards the bottom. Imogen’s tank hit a platform support and clanged then hit the bottom soon after. Ariel was clawing at her mask and regulator and she was having a hard time keeping her sister’s hands away from them. Ariel pushed her sister down onto the bottom and was surrounded in bubbles from her sister’s regulator as it tried to keep pace with the demand of the woman’s lungs.
Through the bubbles, Imogen saw something in Ariel’s eyes that she’d never quite seen before – absolute and clear hatred. She knew she was in big trouble.
She was absolutely sure that Ariel would kill her if she was allowed to get the upper hand in the fight.
Imogen struggled but managed to roll Ariel over but Ariel used the momentum to continue the roll and to get on top again. Imogen reached out to grab a rail or support nearby but couldn’t quite grab anything and Ariel used this opportunity to force her sister towards the stair railing then pushed her arm into it with some force. Her sister squealed into her regulator mouthpiece with pain and momentarily let go of Ariel’s wrist, allowing Ariel to grab at her mask. Imogen strained her body to keep away from her sister’s hand but, while looking away, she didn’t see Ariel’s hand grab hold of her vulnerable air hose. She felt Ariel’s fist against her cheek as the hose was clenched, then Ariel pulled it with all her strength, tearing Imogen’s regulator from between her lips. Bubbles streamed from her mouth as she cried ‘No’ then she saw her sister holding her air source away to one side, as far as possible from her.
The man now watched from the hatchway where Ariel had entered the wreck. He followed her down the stairwell watching her cute bum wiggling in her one piece as she used very small fin strokes to slide her body forward. She was so hot to look at and the thought that her and her equally fuckable sister were likely to be in a scuba fight to the death within a few seconds had sent his pulse racing. He tried to be professional and had cleared his thoughts enough to return to the task – he had quickly closed the bulkhead door behind her then quickly finned up and out of the bridge and down to where he had told Ariel to stay.
Now he was observing the struggle he anticipated; the fight that he had planned to happen. His hand was already in his shorts, grasping his cock and stroking it’s tip and he tried to decide who he would like to win, which basically amounted to which one he’d have to finish off by himself.
It was a tough call. For now, he just enjoyed the sight – he’d always liked to watch girl’s fighting especially when they showed their penchant for guile and it turned dirty. This was ten times better, though – it was underwater and it was obvious that only one of them would be leaving this one alive. He was particularly impressed with the way that Ariel had forced her sister to release her grip by smashing her wrist into the metalwork and then gone straight for her regulator yanking it firmly away. “No messing about – just like a pro,” he thought and smiled.
Imogen looked at her regulator and tried to grab for it. She stretched as far as she could but it was just out of reach. She tried to squirm her body around to reach a few extra inches but Ariel had her pinned to the bottom tight. Realizing that the situation was dire, she flailed around for a few seconds, losing precious air from her lips as she cried out to be let free.
Her eyes narrowed as she realized that panic was not going to recover her air source and she quickly switched her attention to her sister’s mask as she knew Ariel was not comfortable with water in her eyes. Holding Ariel’s wrist firmly to stop her protecting her face, she closed her fingertips over the edge of her sister’s mask and lifted it from her face, causing it to flood.
Imogen had seen the expression that now came to her sister’s face before when she had flown into an emergency ascent after another diver accidentally knocked her mask off with their fin. That time, she had gone to assist her sister although the dive master had done most of the work calming her down. She had mostly watched, smugly noting another of sister’s weaknesses. She never thought she’d have the opportunity to exploit this one.
Behind the glass, Ariel’s face was fully submerged and it changed to that of panic. She immediately started to try to free her held wrist but, since Imogen held it tight, Ariel then released Imogen’s regulator and brought it to her mask.
Imogen reached out for her air source as soon as it floated free.
Ariel moved upright, away from her prone sister, hand to her mask, tipping her head back and exhaling, desperately trying to clear it.
Imogen quickly grabbed her regulator back and fed it back between her pursed lips, exhaling quickly to clear it then greedily sucking on the air it gave. As Imogen continued to watch her sister struggle to clear her mask, she thought that it was time all this was over. Only the strongest survive. If Ariel was prepared to kill her, then she should be prepared to do the same.
Imogen’s eyes never left her sister as she slid her fingertips down her thigh and undid her knife retainer clasp by flicking it off with her thumb. She could see that Ariel was close to clearing her mask and would be attacking again as soon as it was done. Distracted, she fumbled for the knife to pull it clear of the sheath, but couldn’t find it, so she brought her leg up into her body and turned her mask to look. She grabbed the knife easily this time and slid it out of its sheath but she had lost valuable seconds.
Ariel had finally righted her mask and cleared it. Looking back, she saw her sister with her knee up against her chest and the reason for it. Her hand was closing over the handle of her knife and when it was withdrawn from the sheath, she saw the glint of the knife blade that she now wielded towards her.
Ariel stretched her long, toned leg out level and reached for the knife strapped to her calf. She had to work quickly as she wasn’t sure if her sister was using her knife for attack or defense but, as she looked back towards Imogen, it was clear from her sister’s expression that attack was on her mind so Ariel gave up on retrieving her knife and finned backwards and away. She yelped as she hit her head on something overhanging above her and immediately felt dizzy. As she looked towards what she had hit, she noticed racking placed against the bulkhead and some of it was leaning over.
As Imogen approached slowly from below, Ariel turned her body and pushed the heels of her fins against the bulkhead, her hands on the racking. She strained her muscles and the racking started to move – a metal shriek filled her ears as it started to topple over towards her sister. She rolled over just in time to see Imogen, below, changing direction to desperately avoid the racking that was falling onto her.
As Imogen finned on her back, watching her powerful legs work, she saw the racking come down and, momentarily, she thought she would easily get clear. Then, a sudden pain hit her legs at the knees which prevented her from finning any more. She tried to pull her legs up towards her, but the metal scraped down her lower legs, scraping skin off, then snagged her fins at her ankles – and it pulled her down with it. When the racking came to rest on the deck of the room, it pinned her to the floor. She looked down her body and saw the metalwork across her thin ankles. She pulled her legs up but they wouldn’t budge so she tried to roll and that was not going to work either. She arched her back and neck, air hose kinking and stretching as she shook her head from side to side, and pushed out against the deck with her arms, desperately trying to dislodge herself but she was held fast. She breathed quickly, rapid bursts of bubbles exhausting from the vintage regulator but it was no good. She had been just inches from getting herself clear but now she’d need help to get free.
And then she saw Ariel circling down from above her.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Imogen flailed her arms around in at attempt to search for her knife – she’d dropped it as she tried to avoid the racking but she could not feel it lying on the deck.
As she searched, she looked towards the hatch in the hull where most of the light was entering from and saw the outline of a diver.
It was the man.
He was watching but waiting. Was his hand in his shorts? She was sure of it. Why? Her eyes pleaded to him from behind her mask as she stretched her hands out in his direction, beckoning him.
A distorted “help” was shouted into her mouthpiece but he didn’t come.
He just watched.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Her view of the man was suddenly blocked as her sister’s folded legs came into view and Ariel settled on the deck, kneeling next to her. Ariel had deliberately positioned herself so her mask and regulator were out of reach of Imogen – no mistakes this time – and she looked along her sister’s legs to the racking that pinned her. Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, she returned her gaze back into Imogen’s mask.
Imogen hoped her sister would show pity and she motioned towards the racking, making a pushing motion, imploring Ariel to free her. Ariel’s expression did not change as the brought her hand from behind her back – and grasped firmly in it was the knife that Imogen had dropped. As her sister brought the knife towards her, bubbles erupted from her regulator exhaust as she shouted a muffled, “Noooooo!”
Swinging her head to one side then back again, she could see that Ariel had now grabbed her air hose and was holding it in front of her mask, clenched in her fist. Her other hand held the knife blade against the thin rubber hose and slight pressure was applied. Imogen watched as the edge of the blade sank very slightly into the rubber and then was held away again. She looked into Ariel’s mask. Ariel looked back. Her eyebrows were narrowed and she looked determined.
Then Ariel started to slice her air hose again.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Suddenly, an arm appeared from behind Ariel’s head which then crossed her throat, pulling her back. A hand reached around from her other shoulder, moving swiftly towards her regulator and closed tightly over the circular exhaust of the Cyklon she was breathing from. Ariel squealed and released the knife and her sister’s hose, and reached up, fingers clawing at the arm across her neck. Her dyed bright red hair swirled in the water as she swiveled her head around in panic, desperately trying to see her attacker.
Imogen watched as Ariel’s regulator was being tugged out of her sister’s mouth. Ariel knew what was happening, too, as she reached up to protect it, fingers grasping at the body of the regulator while she bit down onto the rubber mouthpiece instinctively.
Despite her efforts, the regulator was jostled then pulled with such force that her lips distorted with the mouthpiece almost being torn free – salt water slipped in but she managed to work it back a little between her teeth, Her lips pursed, she got a few more rushed breaths before it was tugged again, this time much harder than before.
She could not hold it this time and it was torn clear.
Bubbles erupted from her lips as she screamed.
Imogen watched, not quite sure whether what she was seeing was a good or bad thing. It was the man behind her, as she recognized the huge Rolex dive watch on the attacker’s wrist but she could not see his face and was fixated on her sister screaming her air out of her lungs. She was even more perplexed when the attacker forced the regulator back into Ariel’s mouth and, while she was distracted, grabbed her wrists and yanked them behind her waist.
Her sister let out a moan for help as her arms were overpowered, and she wriggled her body, desperately trying to release her hands so she could protect her regulator from being snatched again.
Breathing quickly, she changed tack and tried to turn herself towards her attacker and partially succeeded, but her hands were still held tight.
Imogen could now the man, kneeling behind her sister, his legs astride hers. He was holding both of her wrists with one hand while slipping something over them with the other. When she looked closer, she could see it was a cable tie. Imogen screamed to her sister, who put in an extra effort to free herself. Despite the man almost losing grip of Ariel’s wrists, he yanked the tie tight and then turned Ariel towards him. Rolling over onto his side, he ignored her panicked expression and kicked her hard in the stomach, away from him, with his heel. He watched as bubbles streamed from her as she exhaled, winded, and then tried to curl herself up into a ball, legs pulled up tight into her belly. The man moved quickly towards her and grabbed each of her ankles and pulled them hard towards him, causing Ariel to squeal.
Then the man paused and looked back to Imogen and grinned.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Turning back, the man watched the woman struggling in front of him. Her arms were behind her back, pushing her breasts out, and he could see the underside of them beneath her bikini top. They don’t like being captive either, he thought, as his gaze moved over her flat stomach to the muscles working under the skin of her legs as she struggled to free her ankles from his grasp. His cock was so hard. Not just because of her struggling body looked so good, but because he had admired how she had dealt with Imogen. He’d almost let himself watch her slowly and deliberately cut her sister’s hose, just to hear the hiss and bubbles of escaping air that never quite blotted out the inevitable screaming into a regulator that had suddenly stopped delivering air into a panicking diver’s body.
Yes, with some training, she could have been of some use to him if maybe their paths had crossed differently, but he had to finish the contract and he had his own ‘bonus’ in mind. Grasping each ankle in turn, roughly, the man slipped off Ariel’s fins and discarded them. Then he released her.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Ariel was panicking and dazed. She kicked her legs hard but they just cycled ineffectually, no longer having to cope with the water resistance that wearing a fin provided. She knew she would stand no chance against him if she tried to swim away as he would easily catch her. The man was approaching her again and she lashed out with her feet.
The man grabbed one of Ariel’s ankles again and held it firmly. She kicked it with her free leg but it didn’t make him let go. With his free hand, he reached towards her calf and unclipped the vintage knife she had strapped there. He removed it from the sheath as she watched, her eyes registering fear. She stopped kicking and moaned “No” into her mouthpiece.
He then moved between her legs, parting them and positioned his body between her thighs. She didn’t resist out of fear. He brought the knife to her bikini shorts and slid the blade beneath the fabric. Ariel felt the cool blade slide over her pussy lips and she squealed into her regulator. The man smiled then pulled the knife upwards, slicing the fabric easily. Reaching down, he grabbed her shorts and pulled them away. Ariel was shaven, just how he liked it. Quickly, he slid two fingers gently inside her tight pussy, his thumb roughly pushed into her anus.
She squirmed and exhaled a long stream of bubbles as he held her like a bowling ball.
Imogen watched as the man removed his fingers then pushed down his shorts then brought his impressive erect cock up to her opening and started to push it inside her. He grabbed her weight belt with one hand and used it to pull her onto his cock – a long stream of bubbles came from his regulator as he slid his shaft all the way into her. Then he started to pump her, slowly and deliberately. She struggled, wriggling ineffectually, bubbles erupting from her regulator in very short bursts.
The man looked down at Ariel’s body. He liked girls who liked to be tied up almost as much as tying up those who didn’t but doing it underwater was so very much better. He sucked on his regulator, his twin tanks probably had plenty of air to deliver but he hadn’t checked for some time and not knowing often increased his arousal.
He thought of two things while he fucked her. His own air running out and also the chance that Imogen would get free and attack him. The danger of both excited him and his regulator bubbled with excitement as his cock slid in and out of her tight kitty with each stroke.
Imogen watched as the man cupped his own balls and squeezed them hard. Then he released them and reached forwards over Ariel’s body and around the back of her head. Imogen watched as the man’s arm jiggled as though he was operating something then she let out a yelp as she realized what he was doing….
The man’s hand closed over the valve on the top of Ariel’s scuba tank and he looked towards her face. She’d turned to one side and he could only see the side of her mask sitting on her high cheekbones. The regulator in her mouth looked inviting and he wanted to take it away from her but he had a different idea for this one. He held his breath before he slowly turned the valve clockwise to close it. He listened to the rush of air into the woman’s regulator then bubbles of the exhaust intently. Before he reached the 5 turns required to close the valve fully, the rushes of air stopped and muffled screaming into her regulator began.
He’d shut off her air supply completely.
Ariel had tried to blank out what was happening to her. She couldn’t quite believe the situation that she was in and she felt numb. What she couldn’t blank out was feeling that it become hard to inhale. Just as the realization hit her that she might not be able to breathe, her air stopped completely. She sucked in hard, but there was no intake of air to be had. She wanted so badly to reach for the regulator between her lips, to check it was still there. To take it out, purge it and put it back but her hands wouldn’t budge. She let out a muffled screamed and sucked again. No air.
She felt dizzy.
The man always enjoyed the few moments between turning a woman’s (or man’s) air off and them realizing what had happened. It was a sweet few moments that he sometimes did for pleasure (he kept in touch with a few people who liked breath-play and met them for illicit sex) and, better, when he did it for business. It took a good few moments for the woman in front of him to realize it as, unlike breath-players, she wasn’t expecting it and he used this time to almost slide out of her pussy. When her realization set in, given away by the confused look in her eyes, he sunk his shaft deep into her again.
Moments passed. He knew she wouldn’t last long because she had been exerting herself for some time and she never got a decent breath before he shut her air off. He watched as she alternated between sucking desperately on the mouthpiece, willing air from it, and releasing a little burst of air as she panicked.
The man pumped her hard now, quickly. She hadn’t got long left. He watched her cheeks deform inwards as she sucked so hard to get air. Clearly weakening, she shouted a muffled help into her regulator then looked into the man’s mask, pleadingly. He watched as her eyes started to roll up in her head, whites showing. He smiled back around his mouthpiece and breathed deeply, teasingly. Her struggling lessened and he knew he needed to cum quickly. He could see her no longer trying to suck on the regulator and he also felt the warmth from his balls, working up into his cock. He watched her wriggle her body one last time, just as his cum spurted into her, his cock throbbing satisfyingly. He arched his back with pleasure and strained against his scuba tank harness. Apart from a few more convulsions, she moved no more and her legs went limp. He relaxed his body. Spent.
The man paused for a while then reached around the back of her head which had lolled backwards. He turned her air back on again. Grabbing the regulator out of her mouth, he held it away and pressed the purge button, pushed something into the end of it, then let it go. It continued to bubble furiously as it floated down, the purge button held in, emptying her scuba tank. He then slid himself out of her and watched a trail of white cum float away from the end of his cock.
He cupped some of it and watched it swirl in his hand.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Still with his shorts down, the man turned and looked straight at Imogen then pushed off the bottom, finning over to her. She felt numb. She’d tried to release herself to help her sister but all she could see was little trails of blood from the ankles where the metal had just cut into her. She couldn’t help watch his softening cock bounce between his legs as he purposefully approached her. She looked down her body as he came to rest kneeling over her and she saw his hand being placed on the rack.
He looked into her mask and smiled. Imogen’s expression changed to confusion then one of an appeal to his better nature.
The man looked away and appeared to try to push the racking upwards. He grunted into his regulator and Imogen saw his muscles bulge with the effort.
She felt excited. He was going to rescue her! She looked at his cock, still hard and bobbling around and thought that she’d have to repay him generously if he got her out of her predicament.
The man then turned to her and his face was that of dominance and malevolence. Then he grinned.
Imogen reached out to grab his cock and clasped her fingers around it. It had softened but she tugged it, then slid her hand up and down it. She looked back to his mask and feigned a look of desire. The man looked back, amused. Imogen smiled at him in return.
Still stroking his shaft, Imogen watched as the man put both hands on the racking and dug his knees into the deck, readying himself to push.
Imogen willed him success in moving it but then shook her head in surprise when, instead of pushing the racking up, his fingers grabbed at it and he pulled it downwards. The metal groaned and clamped her legs just a little harder. She saw him turn towards her and look into her mask; he looked pleased with himself and she felt rage at being deceived. She became more incensed when she felt his cock stiffen a little as watched her anger rising and she let go of it, squealing for help and reaching her hands up to the racking to push at it herself. She squirmed her body, trying to get some purchase, her muscles rippling under her skin, but she was not strong enough to release her legs.
The man watched her struggling and grinned around his mouthpiece. Her head was pointing away from him as she pushed hard against the racking again and he watched her lips from side on pursing around her regulator mouthpiece as she grunted into it, every sinew in her body trying to move the metal that pinned her.
As her regulator exhaust burst with frantic bubbling from her exertions, the man reached down beside her and lifted up her air contents gauge and leaned over her body to bring it in front of her mask. As he rotated it so that they could both see it, he saw that the pointer on the gauge was now well into the red reserve sector. She had just minutes of air left.
He watched as Imogen flung her head around to look at him, her eyes wide with panic. She spoke into her regulator, a series of frantic ‘mmmmms’ which seemed to amount to helping her and to not leave her there.
He just smiled back.
The man surveyed her body and wished he had more time for her but he guessed that his own air was running low, even with his twin tanks, and he didn’t want to contemplate a difficult ascent from the wreck this close to the end of a successful job. She saw his desire and placed her hand around his cock again and released a muffled “help” into her regulator then smiled at him.
The man turned to her, casually dropped her contents gauge then saluted with two fingers before pushing off back towards Ariel.
Imogen screamed and began to squirm.
Taking hold of Ariel’s legs, the man gently refitted her fins and dragged her body just out of reach of Imogen who was now clawing at the metal of the floor to reach him. Ariel’s regulator had stopped flowing as her scuba tank was empty so the man removed the clip he had shoved into the purge valve and then he rolled her over and slid his knife between her wrists, cutting the cable tie. Her arms floated free again. Pushing her away, gently, he watched as her body slid through the water, elegant and motionless. Her arms and legs were outstretched and her air hose curled downwards from her tank valve with her dead regulator just touching the deck.
Immediately, the man finned towards the hatch in the hull. When he reached it, he held onto the doorway with one hand and quickly looked back over his shoulder to Imogen who was still clawing at the deck in desperation.
———————————————————————————————————————
Imogen closed her eyes briefly. It felt like it was getting harder to breathe but maybe she was just imagining it. She grabbed her air contents gauge again and saw the pointer almost on the end stop – completely empty. She shook it, willing the pointer to show more air available, then banged it on the deck and checked it again, frantically.
She moaned a feeble “mmmmmelp” into her regulator when the pointer stubbornly failed to respond to her efforts.
When she looked up from the dial of the gauge again, the hatchway was empty and the man had gone.
———————————————————————————————————————
The investigation into the “tragic events” that befell Imogen and Ariel was handled mostly by the pharmaceutical company’s internal security and the local police although the latter were easy enough to buy off, as were the crew of the company yacht.
The local newspapers were paid to report that the sisters were intensely jealous of each other and that one of them had taunted the other with photographs of an affair with the other’s partner left at an undisclosed dive site. An underwater quarrel inside a dangerous boat wreck, resulting in both of their deaths had occurred, both of the women unfortunately running out of air in the altercation, probably due to their lack of wreck diving experience and because neither had a safety line or torch.
The man finished reading the front page article about the incident as he sat sipping a beer on the harbour side. He looked at a PR photo of the two sisters, taken at some glitzy event, which accompanied the text. Both looked stunning in their skimpy dresses and they looked full of life.
The waiter came over and saw the newspaper, shaking his head and commented what a terrible waste it was.
The man agreed with a wry smile, but replied that you never know what goes on behind closed doors.
He finished his beer, dropped a considerable tip on the table and strolled away towards his two-seater sports car, feeling his cock harden with each step.
“Or behind closed bulkheads,” he said to himself and smiled.